Odyssey Of Survival-Chapter 190 - Neural Helmet

Nate tore through the lab like a storm. Wires, panels, drawers—he checked every crevice.

His fingers finally stopped under Jack's desk. A small, circular object tucked beneath a metal support beam. Black. Matte. Silent.

A mic.

Nate's jaw tightened.

Without a word, he closed his fist around it and crushed it. The metal groaned under his strength before snapping apart like paper, the small device crackling as sparks burst from its shattered core.

They had been listening the whole time.

Everything they said, every plan they made—they heard it all.

Which meant…

Jack… Madison… Bella…

They could be anywhere.

Anywhere in the world.

Nate slowly lowered his hand, his fingers still trembling slightly. Not from fear—but from the storm building inside him.

He had nothing to work with. No clues. No trail. And worst of all—no time.

What if they were already dead?

And he wouldn't even know.

He stared blankly at the crushed remains in his palm.

Then he heard footsteps behind him—soft, familiar. Alice.

She knelt beside him and leaned in, speaking so low only he could hear.

"Nate… when you were taken by Zoro… Bella found you."

Nate turned slightly, eyes locking with hers.

"She said it was like—like something pulled her. Like you two had a connection. You think you could try that again?"

He looked away, his face grim.

"It happened… back on the island. At first. But then it stopped." His voice was low, flat. "Now? There's nothing."

Alice tilted her head. "But have you tried?"

"I don't even know how it works," he muttered, frustration rising in his tone. "What do you want me to do? Close my eyes and magically know where she is?"

Suddenly, a head popped in between them.

Sera.

Still wrapped in Nate's black jacket, her hair slightly messy, her eyes wide and alert. Cleo was asleep again on her back, arms dangling as Sera balanced her weight with ease.

"You know," she said casually, "can't you just build something?"

Nate blinked. "What?"

"Like that device Jack made for me when I couldn't sleep," she continued. "He built a device to measure my brainwaves, synced it to my dreams. You remember, right?"

He did.

"What if," Sera added, her voice picking up with excitement, "you build something that helps you understand the connection you have with Bella? Then maybe, just maybe, it could point you to her."

Nate leaned back slowly, the gears in his head already turning.

It wasn't the worst idea.

If he could quantify that link—translate whatever subconscious tie they shared into data—maybe he could track it. Even if it was faint.

Sera stood with her arms crossed, still carrying Cleo effortlessly. "Honestly, for someone who's supposed to be smart, I'm surprised how dumb you can be sometimes."

Nate glanced up at her, shaking his head with a weak smirk. "Wow. Thanks for the motivation."

"Anytime."

He looked down again, rubbing the back of his neck. "But building something like that… it could take days. Maybe more."

"Then you better get to work," Sera replied, stepping back toward the exit. "Fast."

The others started gathering their things. Alice moved toward the door with Ray and Elena. Amara gave Nate a quick nod before following. Each of them had someone to check on—family they hadn't seen in days, maybe weeks. Their world had almost ended more than once lately. Everyone needed to breathe. Even if just for a moment.

Sera was the last to leave.

She adjusted Cleo gently on her back and turned to Nate at the lab's broken entrance. The little girl stirred, finally waking up with a soft yawn.

Nate stood up, watching them. "Sera."

She turned around.

"Thank you."

Her lips curled into a small smile. "Don't get emotional on me now."

Then she disappeared into the fading daylight, her figure silhouetted against the soft orange sky.

Nate was alone again.

Just him and the weight of the world.

He turned back to Jack's computer and sat down, the chair creaking softly. His fingers hovered over the keys—but this time, he wasn't just typing.

He was building a bridge.

Between two souls.

Nate buried himself in work.

The moment the others left, it was just him—and the silence of the lab. No laughter. No background voices. Just the soft hum of electricity and the scratch of his pencil across paper. For a full day, he sat hunched over the desk, thoughts racing. His mind ran wild through theory after theory. Diagrams covered the table—dozens of pages filled with brainwave charts, magnetic field studies, quantum link theories, and neural mapping ideas.

It wasn't easy.

Jack loved building things. Nate… not so much. He was always more of a thinker—someone who mapped the world with logic and deduction. But now, theory wasn't enough. He needed to build.

He flipped to the most recent page in his notebook, eyes scanning the sketch again.

A helmet—round, tight-fitting, wrapped with fine silver wires like veins stretching in all directions. At the center was a neural node, a small orb designed to rest on the forehead. From it, fiber optic cables ran backward into a mini-processor unit Nate had designed from old parts in the lab. It would read his brainwaves, amplify the signals, isolate emotional frequencies, and—hopefully—identify anything that echoed Bella's unique mental signature.

He had included sensors made from bio-conductive polymer and embedded copper lattices to increase sensitivity. Tiny pulse detectors lined the inner padding of the helmet, each rigged to pick up neural echoes in frequencies normal equipment wouldn't catch. A quantum sync stabilizer from one of Jack's old prototypes sat at the base—if anything could lock into the exact wavelength of Bella's connection to him, it would be that.

He sighed, leaning back.

It looked insane. Complex. Experimental.

But it was the best shot he had.

The 3D printer buzzed in the corner, slowly printing the helmet layer by layer. The delicate inner frame alone would take at least eight hours to complete, and that was assuming nothing malfunctioned.

With time to spare, Nate dove back into his theories. He began writing out alternate ideas in case the current one failed. Maybe the connection wasn't mental but emotional. Maybe it wasn't about frequencies but memories. What if it wasn't Bella he needed to connect to—but her energy? Her essence?

He didn't even notice when Sera slipped into the lab.

She walked in quietly, a bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was neater now, pulled back in a loose bun. In one hand, she carried a small container wrapped in cloth, and in the other, a plastic bag with folded clothes.

Nate didn't look up. He was too deep into writing—his pencil moving fast, scribbling down a new layout for a secondary sync transmitter.

Sera didn't say a word.

She set the food down gently on a nearby table, letting the smell drift into the air.

Steamed rice.

Roasted vegetables.

Spiced meat and garlic sauce.

The aroma curled around the lab, snaking toward Nate's desk like a living thing. It wasn't until the scent hit his nose that he finally blinked, looked up, and realized he wasn't alone.

His eyes met hers.

She gave him a small smile and held up the bag.

He stared at her for a second, surprised, then smiled faintly as he set his pencil down and walked over.

"You brought food," he said, taking the bag.

"And clothes," she added, nodding to the one in his hand. "You bathed, right? Please tell me you bathed."

"There's a shower in Jack's lab," he said with a tired grin. "I'm not that far gone."

Sera snorted lightly and nodded. "Good. You look like you haven't slept in days, though."

"Feels like it too."

Nate sat down again, opening the food container. Steam rose into his face, warm and comforting. He stared at it a moment, then looked up at her.

"Did my mom make this?"

Sera paused, her expression changing just slightly.

She shook her head.

"No," she said softly. "I… I took her and Cleo somewhere far. Somewhere safe. They won't be disturbed again. Not by this madness."

Nate blinked.

It took him a moment to process the weight of her words.

"You moved them?"

"I had to," she said, more firmly now. "Your mom's been through enough. She was worried sick about you… about Cleo too. I couldn't keep bringing danger to her doorstep. Not anymore."

He stared at the food in front of him, then slowly nodded. "Thanks. For doing that."

"I didn't do it for thanks."

"I know," he said, his voice quiet. "But still."

Sera sat down on a stool near the desk and watched the 3D printer continue its slow work. The helmet's frame was halfway done. It shimmered under the lab lights, looking more like a crown from a sci-fi movie than a piece of tech.

She tilted her head, arms folded. "That thing gonna work?"

"I hope so," Nate said honestly. "If it doesn't… I don't know what else to do."

Sera didn't reply immediately. She glanced around the lab, her gaze softening at the sight of Jack's scattered gadgets and half-finished machines.

"You'll figure it out," she said at last. "You always do."

Nate gave a weak smile before taking a bite of the food. The warmth filled his chest. It didn't fix anything, not really—but it made him feel human again. Just for a moment.