My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible - Chapter 362

Chapter 362: Jupiter, One Of Mother Nature’s Monster
Time flew by quickly for Liam as he lost himself in training. Over the past three days aboard the Voyager, he’d made remarkable progress with his electromagnetic field detection ability.

The advancement had been systematic, almost exponential. What started as a vague sense of electrical “buzz” had refined into something far more sophisticated. He could now distinguish between different types of EM radiation—radio waves, microwaves, infrared, visible light, ultraviolet, X-rays, even gamma rays. Each frequency band had its own signature, its own feel against his consciousness.

More impressively, he could track electronic devices even when powered down, sensing the residual fields in their circuits and capacitors. Living things registered differently—bioelectricity flowing through nervous systems, the rhythmic pulse of heartbeats, the subtle contractions of muscles. He could detect hidden cameras, bugs, and surveillance equipment by their distinctive EM signatures. And he’d learned to read the general activity level of computers or phones without seeing their screens, sensing data flow through processors and memory.

The applications were endless. He could track opponents through walls by sensing their heartbeats and nervous system activity. Ambushes became obvious when multiple bioelectric signatures clustered in hiding. Snipers and hidden surveillance equipment practically announced themselves through their electronic emissions.

The only limitation was range—forty meters, spherical radius centered on himself. But within that bubble, very little could hide from him.

His other telekinetic abilities had grown alongside the electromagnetic sense. The radius of both his telekinetic field and his conscious control had expanded to match—forty meters in all directions.

His raw telekinetic power had increased too. He could crush level three and four military-grade steel doors with focused effort. Level five doors strained him but remained possible. Level six doors, designed to withstand anti-tank weapons, were still beyond his current capabilities.

Wood and stone barriers exploded under his telekinetic pressure, their structural integrity no match for the invisible forces he could generate. The thicker the material, the more concentration it required, but almost nothing conventional could stop him anymore.

Liam was satisfied with the progress. Three days of intensive training had yielded results that might have taken months under normal circumstances. The improvement was overdue, but it felt good to finally push past the plateau he’d been stuck on.

Now, seated in the captain’s chair on the flight deck, Liam stared through the massive viewport at the sight that dominated his entire field of vision.

Jupiter hung before him like a god from ancient mythology made manifest.

The planet was incomprehensibly massive. Even from this distance—still thousands of kilometers above the cloud tops—it filled the viewport completely, edge to edge. The curvature was barely perceptible, making it seem less like a sphere and more like an infinite wall of churning atmosphere.

The colors were violent and chaotic. Bands of cream, ochre, rust-red, and deep brown swirled in parallel streams, each band wider than Earth itself. The boundaries between them roiled with turbulence, storms spinning off like cosmic whirlpools wherever different wind speeds collided. Lightning flickered deep within the cloud layers, brilliant white flashes illuminating the interior of storm systems that had raged for centuries.

And there, occupying a massive section of the southern hemisphere, was the Great Red Spot.

Liam had seen images of it before, like everyone had. But images didn’t capture the reality. The storm was enormous, easily large enough to swallow three Earths side by side. It rotated counter-clockwise, a hurricane that had persisted for at least four hundred years and showed no signs of stopping. The red color came from unknown chemicals dredged up from Jupiter’s depths, staining the clouds like old blood.

The edges of the storm were sharp and defined, a perfect oval carved into the surrounding cloud bands. But within that boundary, the chaos was absolute. Smaller vortices spun within the larger rotation. Cloud formations rose and fell like mountains being built and destroyed in fast-forward. Wind speeds exceeded anything possible on Earth, atmospheric forces so powerful they would tear apart any conventional spacecraft that dared approach.

Liam smiled wryly, his earlier confidence wavering slightly. He’d fought battles that would freeze most humans with terror. He’d faced creatures that defied natural law. But the sight of Jupiter in front of him was simply terrifying in ways he couldn’t fully explain.

Standing before one of the solar system’s gas giants, he felt small. No matter how strong he’d become, no matter what powers the system had granted him, he couldn’t hold a candle to the monster in front of him. Nature operated on a scale that made his achievements look insignificant.

It was humbling.

But humility didn’t mean retreat. Liam stood up from the captain’s chair, his wry smile shifting into something more determined. The fact that Jupiter made him feel this way didn’t change his mind about entering the gas giant. If anything, it strengthened his resolve.

The more terrifying something was, the greater the satisfaction when you conquered it.

The announcement for the second livestream had been posted two hours ago. Lucy had handled it with her usual precision, timing it perfectly to maximize anticipation without giving people too much time to spiral into speculation. The stream would begin in just a few minutes.

Liam walked toward the private elevator, his exosuit activating as he moved.

The elevator descended rapidly through the Voyager’s decks. When the doors opened onto the docking bay, Liam strode out with purpose. His footsteps echoed softly against the metal deck as he approached his space shuttle.

The circular boarding platform extended to meet him. He stepped aboard and it retracted smoothly, carrying him into the shuttle’s interior. The airlock cycled, the cabin repressurized, and he moved to the pilot’s seat.

The shuttle’s systems came online at his touch. Through the forward viewport, he could see the massive bay doors beginning to open, revealing Jupiter beyond. The planet’s light—reflected sunlight filtered through its thick atmosphere—cast an amber glow across the docking bay’s interior.

Liam input the flight parameters. The shuttle lifted smoothly from its berth, rotated toward the opening, and accelerated forward.

The bay doors fell away behind him. The Voyager receded into the distance, a massive but suddenly insignificant speck against Jupiter’s overwhelming presence. And Liam flew directly toward the planet, his shuttle a tiny mote approaching a cosmic giant.

***

Back on Earth, the ten-second countdown had begun.

Nova Technologies’ official LucidNet account now boasted 850 million followers—a staggering increase of 65 million in just three days. Every single one of them had notifications enabled.

News networks had cleared their schedules. Public viewing events had been organized in major cities across every continent. Schools and universities had declared viewing periods, recognizing that trying to hold normal classes during the livestream would be futile.

The countdown reached zero.

For standard viewers watching through phones, computers, and tablets, the screen suddenly filled with the most terrifying sight most of them had ever seen.

Jupiter.

Not a distant photograph taken by a probe. Not a telescope image processed to show detail. This was raw, immediate, overwhelming.

The planet filled the entire frame, its storms and bands rendered in perfect clarity. The scale was impossible to process. Human brains weren’t designed to comprehend something this large, this violent, this alien.

But for the Lucid users, the experience was exponentially more intense.

They found themselves standing inside the space shuttle’s cabin. Not watching through a window—actually there, their avatars rendered in full detail, faces still blurred for privacy but bodies perfectly recreating their real-world positions. The shuttle’s interior surrounded them, every surface visible and tangible to their digital senses.

And through the forward viewport, Jupiter loomed.

The immersion was so complete that several users gasped audibly. A few took involuntary steps backward, their real bodies responding to the perceived threat. One person actually fell, their avatar stumbling as their brain insisted they were about to be crushed by the approaching planet.

“Oh my God,” someone whispered. “Oh my God, we’re going toward it.”

“That’s Jupiter. That’s actually Jupiter.”

“We’re going to die. I know we’re not really here but we’re going to die.”

“Breathe. Just breathe. It’s not real,” one of them told herself.

The shuttle continued its approach, and Jupiter grew even larger—which seemed impossible given that it already filled their entire field of vision. Details became clearer. Individual storm systems, each one larger than Earth, spun within the cloud bands. The lightning flashes were constant now, a strobe effect illuminating the deeper atmospheric layers.

Liam’s modulated voice cut through the rising panic, calm and steady. He turned slightly in the pilot’s seat, looking back toward where the Lucid users clustered in the shuttle’s cabin.

“Welcome to the second livestream,” he said, his tone carrying a smile despite the voice modulation. “I appreciate everyone who joined today. As you can see, we’re currently approaching Jupiter—the largest planet in our solar system and one of the most hostile environments humanity has ever studied.”

He turned back toward the viewport, toward the churning monster that dominated the view.

“Jupiter is a gas giant. No solid surface exists beneath those clouds. Just atmosphere, growing denser and hotter as you descend, until eventually the pressure becomes so intense that hydrogen itself becomes liquid, then metallic. The core, if you could reach it, is hotter than the surface of the sun.”

His hand gestured toward the Great Red Spot, now visible in the distance.

“That storm you see has been raging for at least four centuries. The winds inside exceeds 600 kilometers per hour. The pressure differential between the storm and surrounding atmosphere would crush any conventional spacecraft. And we’re going to fly through it.”

The silence that followed was absolute. Even the comments section, usually a blur of activity, slowed as people processed what they’d just heard.

Then someone typed: “I’m sorry, WHAT?”

And the flood began.

“HE’S GOING INTO THE STORM???”

“That’s suicide. That’s literal suicide.”

“His suit can’t possibly withstand those forces”

“Unless his suit is as advanced as everything else he’s shown us”

“This is insane. This is beyond insane.”

“I CAN’T LOOK AWAY”

Liam’s modulated laughter carried through the audio. “Don’t worry. I’ve calculated the risks. The shuttle can handle it. And if anything goes wrong…” He paused, letting the tension build. “Well, that’s why we at Nova Technologies test limits.”

The shuttle accelerated toward Jupiter, toward the Great Red Spot, toward a storm that had outlasted empires and would outlast humanity itself.

And 850 million people watched, unable to look away.