Mike, now fully embracing the persona of the charismatic Sky Pirate captain, strides back and forth with flair as he contemplates his transformation. "Ah, but to truly dominate the skies, one must do more than simply command them. One must conquer the winds, to soar as the albatross does!"
Jeff, still adjusting to the energized spectacle his father has become, watches with eyebrows raised, anticipating a further request. "So, you want to actually fly?"
"Yes, mi hijo! But not with any ordinary means—it must be extraordinary! I need the winds at my command, the freedom to vault into the blue!" Mike exclaims, his voice echoing with newfound resonance in the room.
Chuckling at his dad's unbridled enthusiasm, Jeff nods and turns back to the Chronivac interface. He types in the parameters for a cybernetic implant capable of flight. He looks back at Mike, hesitating for just a moment before adding, "This is really what you want? No going back?"
Mike claps his son on the shoulder with a confident grip. "Let us proceed! The horizon calls!"
Once Jeff confirms the selection, the Chronivac machine buzzes anew. Mike feels a sensation on his back—not unpleasant, but decidedly foreign—as a mechanical compartment begins to materialize, melding with his new form. It's as if the machine itself is grafting onto his spine, becoming part of him, a solid, unyielding presence. He instinctively knows the backpack-like box is secure, a part of him now.
His Pirate's bravado doesn't falter. "Ah, the marvels of modern ingenuity manifesting on my back!"
Then, with a series of mechanical whirs and clicks, a pair of sleek, telescopic wings unfold grandly from the contraption. Mike stretches these new appendages, testing their weight and resistance, as the jet engines housed within the wings hum to life—a promise of propulsion and altitude.
Jeff watches in awe as the wings fully extend, glossy and robust. They are the perfect hybrid of organic and technological design, optimized for agile flight.
Mike gives a dashing smile and with the slightest of bows, he says, "And now, I take my leave to the empyrean realm! Stand back, my boy, and witness the ascension!"
With a burst of power from the engines, Mike's feet lift from the floor. A controlled hover shifts into graceful, powerful arcs as he masters the flight controls instinctively. He laughs, a sound of pure delight mingling with the roar of engines.