The Teslatorium

"You... you say what is and is not real, but manifestations of psychokinetic phenomena are as good as real within this space, best not to underestimate them," Skitters would say as she regained her footing... somewhat. She would cast another glance at the engine before following the others. Oddly this time she spoke, it lacked the funny accent altogether, it was clear, not even an electronic crackle, but actually eloquent. It came to her own surprise, now that she was far enough away to really process things clearly. She'd rub her chin with one of her paws. "Cor!"

The giant looks amused, if such emotions could be read from his eyes alone. He then cast an odd stare at those suffering from nausea from the Innovatium. He was feeling perfectly fine, as much as normal in any case. He followed along quietly, puffing out some small plumes of steam from his mask. "But it is a form of radiation... I suppose for one as I, it makes sense to not feel its effects so readily... but who is the most receptive is another matter altogether."

Jonathan would lead the group through a similarly winding route as the one to the engine, going through doorways that weren't in any way immaterial - strange as they were - and eventually reaching the cabins. When he next spoke, it was in the same tone as when he was explaining Innovatium's effects; the group would suspect that he was making up the explanation as he went along.
"Oh, I didn't mean that what you're seeing isn't..." John would hesitate, having realised he had talked himself into a corner. He would start again. "If you think about it, the Imagiverse isn't a particularly real world, if you could excuse the existential crisis of that statement. It has always been subject to change from powerful minds; just look at the Creators. It's just that Innovatium sort of... gives you the partial ability of the Creators, allowing you to achieve accomplishments deemed impossible by mundane science." Having found some easy ground, he'd continue more confidently, "That's part of Skeletorian technology, in fact! We're able to make machines that can produce foodstuffs out of nothing, like the Cornucopia in the Cafetorium; We've built airships that could travel the globe sixty times; we've even made musical robots that can generate a tune you can really hum. Of course, I don't believe that's the full extent of Innovatium; even after over a hundred years in studying it, we've only just scratched the surface of what is capable with it."
A moment of silence amongst the Chosen Few would pass.
"... So... Is any of what we saw at the engine real?" asked Adam.
"I think it's safe to say," John replied a touch sharply, "that the answer would be yes and no."
"Is it dangerous?" interrogated Max, asking the question John was attempting to wriggle away from.
"Potentially. When reality is being put through the wringer, all sorts of things can happen, not just the good things. There might be an invasion of things from the Dungeon Dimensions, but I've designed the engine to slim those chances to as close to null as possible. We'll just have to carry on and pray if needs be.
"Anyways, I'd love to stay and chat, but I need to start up the engines and begin our voyage. Make yourselves comfy; I've positioned the two groups so that your cabin is opposite the other, so if you want to cross to the other and mingle, feel free, although Max might object."
"Hey, I like talkin' as much as anyone else," objected Max, "As long as it isn't while I'm sleepin'."
"Right. Cheerio, then," John would make his way down to the helm as he called out. "I'll let you know through the gramo-com when we're about to take off!" He'd then take a door to his left, only to immediately come out a door further away, if anyone can see far enough.
"I've seen the gramo-com," Adam said absentmindedly. "It's like those intercoms up on the surface, but with pipes and stuff. Dunno how it can travel that far, though."
"Right." Max would open the door to their cabin, similarly decadent, similarly dimensionally warped. "Might as well make ourselves comfy. I take the bed by the left-side of the window." He would then be followed by the others, who briefly fight for their beds before closing the door behind them. The others would be left alone to enter their cabin.

“Yes and no, eh?” Vragi mused, “That’s an answer I can get behind.”

The dwarf bustled along the he corridor as they made their way back. He appeared quite content with John’s explanation, even if it seemed suspicious. On the other hand, the sheer length of the corridor was taking its toll on him. He was used to scrambling in the dark dank of mines and beating the anvil for extended periods of time, but not so much running.

As they reached the cabins, he caught up, wheezing slightly and whistled at seeing the interior, before seating himself on one of the bunks (he wouldn’t be picky).

“Well, this is rather exciting!” He said with a dangerous glint in his eye.

Skitters's wobbliness had finally subsided now that she was far enough away from the "ground zero" of Innovatium radiation. It still bothered her... that it bothered her that much. It might make keeping up this charade... if it could be called that. She watched the others enter their cabins, fighting like children over who gets which bed. Look at them, fighting over simple beds. She let out a mocking snort as she turned to the cabins assigned to them and stepped in. She looked it over and then jumped the one in the furthest corner of the room, taking the covers and sheets, swirling it around herself into a makeshift structure.

"Mine!" she yelled, holding a pillow over her head, glaring at the others, before plopping it down over her head to finish her mini-fort.

Grimms just walked in and chuckled to himself. "This should prove to be very interesting," he muttered, as he seated himself in a corner of the cabin, slipping out a book from one of his large coat pockets and began to just quietly read.

Innovatium's discovery is often rumoured to have occurred at the precise time that Peter Walter I discovered Blue Matter, theorised to be the glue that holds reality together. This is interesting to note, as Innovatium is said to do the opposite; acting upon the mutability of reality to provoke hyper-fantasy, a term used to describe phenomenon that is more unreal than what is usual in the Imagiverse. Hyper-fantasy occurrences include near-physical hallucinations, the bending of physical laws and the supposed communication with a distant being, first reported by Jonathan C. Skelecoot, then recently deceased, in 1899, when an accident during the early studies of Innovatium reportedly drove him insane, running out of his laboratory and informing his co-workers, in a loud voice, that their world, along with the countless others they had yet to discover, wasn't real, that it was merely the imaginings of an omnipotent being that wasn't God. The concerned scientists called for the police, and Jonathan, who had calmed down considerably, was escorted to New Bedlam, as it was later named, where he had plenty of time to ascertain what he had seen in the explosion.
When Adam visited John in the asylum, straitjacketed despite his apparent civility, he was the first to hear John's story.

Jonathan, when he was still a young and breathing man, had the ambition of becoming a politician, as any youth who believes he has a few bright ideas on how to better govern the world would. When he died, in a rather tragic family incident involving his other brother Nicholas and every other direct relative including John and Adam, John momentarily put his political aspirations on hold - as there was a period of parliamentary confusion as the deceased statesmen awoke from their lifelong delusions - to partake in some part-time research regarding the latest scientific discovery; a bizarre substance similar to the similarly recent Blue Matter, but much more unstable in it's effects. Jonathan wasn't the only person to have been sadly influenced by this strange material, and it was likely he wasn't going to be the last.
The accident occurred on his first day. The substance in question was sealed in a brass sphere fitted with a window - a container that would much later act as the prototype of commonplace Innovatium power cores - that did not entirely fulfil it's purpose to safely contain the technicoloured substance, as was evident when John peered into the window...
What followed next could not be ordered, as the sudden visions lasted the duration of a second. In that rather crowded second, John saw distant worlds that did not correlate with reasonable science, the beating minds of beings that might as well had been stars in humanoid form, and the terrifying revelation about his own existence, that he was merely a figment of Their imagination that could be as easy to render non-existent as a child's drawing against a pencil eraser.
In the midst of this revelation, he was almost sure there was something else, watching him from the furthest point in space, beckoning him to step off the planetary body and embrace the stars. At least, that was his first impression. Later on, he was almost certain it was a cry for help.

Vragi also giggled as the other two settled into the room. With some effort he hoisted himself onto his bed, perching on the edge of the mattress.

He looked around the room, nodding contentedly. He also seemed interested in the structure the raccoon had built for herself.

“Hmm…” he appeared deep in thought, as if posing himself some question. Abruptly he began to lift up the covers and sheets, inspecting them and measuring them in his head, before jumping down and addling over to the chest, taking some of his equipment and using it to make a tent-like structure. Evidently the question he’d had in mind was how impressive a fort could you make with bedsheets. He stood back and looked at his makeshift creation, with a quizzical expression.

He looked between the two structures, before saying, "I have more work to do." He then got to inspecting his fort, checking for ways to improve it.

"Heh, you take this stuff seriously, don't you?" Skitters said, in response to Vragi.

"So, as a connoisseur of knowledge, curiosity overtakes me," Grimms finally said, lowering his book to glance over the top of it. "How does a being such as yourself end up inside common vermin?" There was a moment of silence, followed by rustling in the bedding fort.

"Ay? And how does a git like you end up in a tin can?" Skitters responded, sounding a bit agitated.

"Touché, but I meant no disrespect," he responded, before he returned to his book.

"Yeah, well... I... ugh... if you really must know, I'm from the edge, or rather, I was born in some isolated bubble in it," she finally said after some stuttering. "And I outgrew that bubble."

"That... doesn't really explain a lot, does it?" he said.

"Okay, sure, fine! But I don't know all the exact bloody details, they get foggy when your brain is put through a ringer! So yeah, anyways, Basalah? Yeah, that is my real name, Lady Basalah I was. My people were mostly a bunch of timid little mice... not literally, mind you, but bright lights and loud noises causes them to scatter. I mean, sure, we lived in a land with only twilight and night, by your terms, but still... a little light ain't gonna kill ya! So yeah, I felt my growth was being bloody stifled! So maybe, I got a bit overly ambitious, sure! But I'm a bloody genius! I can't be satisfied with accepting things as-is. And I got treated as a deviant, insane! I mean, I was also taller than the average git, get on my bloody level! Was..." she paused there, to try to gather her thoughts. "So I came up with a theory, one they really didn't like. I devised a way to pierce the veil and bridge into a hypothetical other world, using a kind of primordial energy I had concentrated by siphoning off some spacial anomalies at the world's borders."

"Sounds eerily familiar, and what device did you use to pierce the veil?" he asked.

"Wait... device? No no, I drank it."

"You... drank it?" Grimms responded. "I'm lifting a brow, by the way."

"Yeah... ehhhh..." she answered, her voice cracking a bit. "So, maybe not my brightest moment in retrospect, but everyone was wanting to have me committed and I was gettin' flustered and may have gotten a little full of myself. I mean... I am amazing! But... well, I had a split second of regret, before my everything was being being stretched across several planes like taffy, through an inconceivable multiverse... then nothing. Don't know how long it had been, but the next time I'm conscious, my everything ached like hell, and I awoke inside this... dinky roadkill of a shell."

"Roadkill?"

"Well, ugh, so it wasn't in the best condition when I first got into it, okay? Busted up all to hell, the animal was dead as it gets. B-but don't look at me like that, I ain't some bloody pet cemetery freak! I-I mean, I hope I'm not... that'd be utterly pear-shaped... But yeah, that is about everything, I ended up being experimented because I'm some kinda edge hybrid thing."

"I see," Grimms responds, yet his tone hinted he wasn't entirely convinced on that being the full story. "And... what are you seek-"

"W-well, enough! I answered your question, now mine!" she interrupted rather abruptly, popping up from her fort and pointing accusingly. He backs down, and rubbed his chin.

"Mine... I suppose is a bit more simple, I once looked human, a rather god-like one I might say. Strong and worshipped, I grew arrogant, thought nothing could stop me, that every obstacle I could overcome with sheer strength alone. I was almost right, but... well, a servant woman, sick of my garbage challenged me that the one thing I could never do is be humble... and I took the challenge. For the life of me, I couldn't do it, I thought too highly of myself, and I was, angry and defeated, left with the only option to admit that there are some things I wasn't good at... and shortly after we married. It was a learning experience for sure, and then we had two kids, a son and then later, a daughter. I was... happy? And yet I wasn't smashing things with my head and fists. But..." he pauses for a moment and lowers his head, placing his book in his lap. "I... should have known something was coming, glowing cracks had begun forming in my body. I told no one, especially not my beloved. And then, in my arms, that mortal shell ruptured, and the surge of raw energy from my body... and well... I suppose the one grace is there was likely no suffering involved. I tried to cry but my eyes were dry, I tried to drink it away, but the alcohol burnt away on my tongue... I couldn't even comfort my children, as I'd burn them too. This clumsy suit, a clunking wearable reactor shell, is the only way I can engage at all in the worlds, and it lacks any of the delicate qualities I once took for granted. My son turned from me, and my daughter... regressed. Perhaps out there is a means to once and for all shed this suit, and live... somewhat normally again. That and adventure... I've missed those."

"Geez, make me look like a selfish git, why dontcha? S-soo, you want your body back, huh?

"Essentially, yes, I suppose it is also closure, as well, with it. But I assume you want yours back too, right?" he asked, but Skitters simply paused, thinking on it for a bit.

""Y-yeah! Of course! It... uh... this body is total bollocks! W-well... I'm not sure, really... I mean, there's no way I can make this work as-is right? A lady as I, reduced to the body of a pathetic and graceless vermin! How am I to receive any envy like this? Pah!"

"Hah, you're a bit vain, aren't you?" he laughs, causing her to huff and plop back into hiding in her fort. Grimms then turns to Vragi. "And, where are my manners? We cannot forget you, friend, what is your story?"

Ever since that fateful incident, John had been gripped with a common infliction for those who had taken a brief glimpse of what they do not fully understand. When he was released from New Bedlam - on the grounds that, despite his initial outburst, he was evidently rational for his blood - and began a campaign which ended with the Parliament disbanded and him settled as Old Albion's first and only dictator, he had since devoted his life gathering esoteric knowledge, in a similar fashion to a magpie looting Midas' palace for shiny objects. He refocused the city's efforts from military reinforcements to scientific pursuits, which eventually provided the government (John) with mechanical soldiers superior to the Royal Army, who soon dwindled in numbers in the face of the city's gradual disregards for tradition and decent humanity. John would eventually develop his own personal guard, the Peacemakers, dreaded law-enforcing automatons only deployed in the most serious cases of unrest, but mainly to protect the Governor with threats of having them let loose on anyone who so much as lays a finger on him. Always fitted with technology unavailable anywhere else in the city, the Peacemakers became subject to rumour of impenetrable armour and inhumane weaponry, which did the rest of the work of keeping the masses subordinate to their leader.
However, even after over a hundred years of developing his own library of strange or even dangerous knowledge, John's thirst for more hasn't satiated. This particular thirst was similar to an addiction to nicotine, or to trying to hydrate oneself with dry water; it is an endless cycle of drinking, then feeling unsatisfied. It is widely agreed that it was this endless thirst for knowledge that crumbled the rest of John's mind, replacing it with the cold, calculating machine it is now; consistently guzzling more information, considering morality only as a point of reference, and regularly going cuckoo.

Vragi shrugged in agreement at Skitters' remark, before turning his attention back to his mini project. He was actually quite childish despite his apparent age.

He’d just begun scribbling down notes on a scrap of parchment when he found himself listening to his colleagues' histories, and with great interest. Tucking his writing equipment beneath the pillow he was sat on, he listened intently from inside what appeared to be a one-person bell tent.

Surprise flashed briefly across his face as he was asked his own story. He shifted a little. Usually being the one asking questions, he was unused to answering them.

“Well,” he began, “I felt stifled back home too, always wanted to see what was out there. We were quite isolated, see.” He took out the axe he had kept with him and pointed out the symbols etched into the blade.

“We use these magic runes to enchant and enhance the stuff we forge. Only a few years ago, longstanding contact was finally made with other worlds and we were trading in all kinds of strange things and materials we’d never laid eyes on. Anyway, naturally first thing we did was mess about with them. We started small, just put a simple resilience enchantment on a dagger, typical job. But instead it starts igniting everything it hits! We thought we might've botched the thing up so we did it again and the same thing happened. We soon found that our runes had completely different effects depending on what world the materials were from. It was like finding out there’s a whole bunch more alphabets in your language. And I had a good excuse to get out and explore other worlds. I’m searching for materials from as many different places as possible so we can discover how they react to runes. Just imagine what we might find out there!”

"What indeed, the possibilities are quite literally countless," Grimms comments with a short chortle. "Been ages since I've been at the edge of my seat with anticipation. It would appear we all share that in common, escaping our cooped up lives."

"Countless possibilities, discoveries, treasures, power, it is a bit exhilarating," she muttered, curling up with her pillow in a ball. "But in the end, I want to not be looked down on, called a bloody rodent. Or something like that, always felt like something in me was empty."

"Well, we're all trying to fill a void. Luck to us that we all find what we've been missing!"

A metallic, high-pitched whine would interrupt the volunteers. Upon closer inspection, they would discover that, unbeknownst to their initial inspection of the room - strangely enough - there was a strange, segmented funnel jutting out from the top of a wall, that was shuddering as the disembodied voice of Jonathan echoed from it.
"Helloooo, passengers! I've finally made it to the helm, and will be starting up the engine. During this, you might experience a bit of confusion as the Innovatium starts to pump through to the main thrusters and be ignited, theoretically resulting in a fair amount of residual radiation. But not to worry; this should not do you any harm. Starting the engine... Now!"
The cabin would begin to shudder, the ceiling lamp above waving erratically. A distant hum, once hidden in the background, was beginning to raise in volume and intensity, somewhere in the supposed direction of the Innovatium Engine. Outside the window, engineers and apprentices were backing away from the vessel, cheering and waving miniature flags. Somewhere in the distance, a band began to play a boisterous tune, likely the undead country's anthem, as the crowd would soon begin to sing along, words and phrases such as "God save the..." "Long to reign over us..." and so on drifting into the air as the hum indoors took a disconcerting tone.
"There we are," piped John from the gramophonic speaker. "Now, let the S.S Victoria begin its maiden voyage to the great beyond!"
The shuddering would make an abrupt stop as the skeletal crowd, who were now screaming in anticipation, began to drop from the window's view. Somewhere ahead of the ship, muffled by the hull and the humming, the passengers would hear the sound of something large and metallic begin to move, punctuated with occasional, thunderous clangs; discerning from how the noises seem to be emanating from just above the vessel, the Teslatorium must be opening up by quite a bit to allow the S.S Victoria to leave. After about 20 seconds, the ship would finally move forward, oddly flowing in its acceleration, like an iceberg with propellers in the back.
Soon, the vessel had left the hangar, the view replaced by an admittedly stunning panorama of the city below. Smokestacks towered over countless buildings, the sky being invaded by even more streams of smoke weaving into the clouds. As the ship spun, they would get a view of the sea, copper in colour and strangely silent, excusing the occasional steamer and other vague shapes along the horizon.
Eventually, John's voice would sound again. "Take a good look at the city. For over a hundred years, we've stuck to the machinations of the steam engine, hoping to perfect its use on every aspect of our technology. Now, with vast experience with Innovatium under our belt, we have achieved what was considered impossible back in the reign of our deceased majesty. The word has been spread, the town criers have brought the news, and millions of eyes are watching us at this very moment, most likely to see if I blow the damn thing up on the first jump, the bastards. Ahem, anyway, fasten yourselves on something, everyone! To the Edge!"
The background hum was now raising into a whine. Those who are on the ship will feel the uneasy sensation of moving at a fast speed while remaining in place, until the second part became irrelevant; S.S Victoria would achieve the unlikely of reaching the speed of light from a standing start.