The stairwell smelled faintly of metal and damp stone.
Leo paused halfway down, gripping the rail. The air was colder here than it had any right to be — as if the basement itself was exhaling. He could still feel the dull ache in his wrist where the Bracelet had burned through him days ago. Every step made it throb faintly in time with his pulse.
He didn't want to be here.
But Felix's voice still echoed in his head — Come back tomorrow. We'll begin your training.
So he came, though two days late.
The heavy door at the end of the corridor opened with less effort this time. It wasn't locked. A pale strip of light cut through the dark hall as he stepped inside.
The lab looked cleaner now, organized, the chaos of that night replaced by order. Machines hummed softly, screens blinking in slow rhythm. Felix stood near a workbench, coat off, sleeves rolled, the faint smell of metal polish in the air.
"You came back," Felix said without looking up.
"I said I would."
"You said a lot of things."
Leo frowned, unsure if that was praise or sarcasm.
Felix finally looked at him. The faint blue glow from a nearby monitor painted his face in sharp light. "You're pale."
"I haven't been sleeping much."
"That's normal. Your body's still calibrating." Felix gestured toward a metal stool. "Sit."
Leo obeyed, glancing around at the unfamiliar instruments — metallic rods, cables that looked almost biological, and a small glass cube hovering above a circular pad. The soft hum under it reminded him of the Bracelet's rhythm.
Felix picked up a clipboard. "We'll start simple. I want to measure your output when you focus."
"My output?"
"Your resonance," Felix clarified. "Think of it as... how loud your energy is when you're awake."
Leo managed a hollow laugh. "So you want me to glow again?"
Felix didn't smile. "Not glow. Control."
He handed Leo a thin metal band — smaller, lighter than the Bracelet, shaped more like a wrist sensor. "This will track your responses. Put it on."
Leo slipped it over his wrist. The moment it touched his skin, the faint hum inside him stirred, as though recognizing kin.
"Good," Felix said quietly. "Now focus on the cube."
Leo glanced at it — the glass shimmered faintly, floating a few inches above the pad. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Don't think about what you want it to do," Felix said. "Just breathe. Let your pulse guide it. If the Bracelet's fully synchronized, it will respond."
Leo inhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the cube.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the hum under his skin grew stronger. The air between him and the cube rippled faintly — not visible, but felt. A quiet vibration passed through the space like the aftershock of a whisper.
The cube shifted. Only slightly.
It rotated once, then steadied itself again.
Leo's heart jumped. "Did I—"
Felix raised a hand to silence him, eyes fixed on the readings flashing across his monitor. "Good. Again."
Leo tried, focusing harder. This time, the cube tilted farther, the glow beneath it brightening before settling back to its faint shimmer.
When it stopped, he exhaled shakily. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Felix nodded, jotting something down. "Better than expected."
"It doesn't feel better," Leo muttered.
"That's because you're fighting it."
"I'm trying not to pass out."
Felix looked up from his notes. "That too."
For a brief second, the corners of his mouth almost softened. Then he straightened, returning to the instrument table. "We'll continue tomorrow. No more for today."
Leo blinked. "That's it?"
"Progress is made in increments, not leaps." Felix began disconnecting cables. "You're still adjusting. The fact that you can manipulate resonance already means your synchronization is strong."
"Strong how?"
Felix didn't answer. He turned away, sorting data into the console.
Leo's pulse quickened. The silence in Felix's pause said more than words would have.
He rubbed his wrist, feeling the faint heat of the Bracelet beneath his skin. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
Felix nodded once. "And Leo," he said as the boy turned to leave.
Leo looked back.
"Don't ignore the pain," Felix said. "It's telling you something."
Leo didn't ask what. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.
The next day, the basement hummed with a sharper, steadier energy.
Felix was already there when Leo arrived, moving with a kind of practiced efficiency that made the space feel alive. The smell of dust and ozone hung in the air — faint traces of burnt circuits from the day before.
"Sit," Felix said without preamble. "We'll resume from where we left off."
Leo obeyed, rubbing his wrist under his sleeve. The faint heat beneath his skin hadn't faded since yesterday.
Felix rolled over a small tray of metal objects: coins, bolts, a paperclip, and a thin silver rod. He arranged them neatly on the table between them. "You felt the connection yesterday," he said. "Now you'll learn to shape it."
Leo stared at the objects. "Shape it how?"
"Through focus. The Bracelet channels your resonance — it translates thought into motion."
"So I just think about moving it?"
Felix gave a short nod. "But not in words. In rhythm."
Leo frowned. "Rhythm?"
"Your heartbeat is the command," Felix explained. "You don't move the object with force. You move it by aligning your pulse to its energy. Everything vibrates, even metal. Match that vibration, and it will move."
Leo tried to process that, then nodded uncertainly. "Okay… rhythm."
Felix stepped back, folding his arms. "Begin with the coin."
The coin sat dull and still on the metal tray. Leo fixed his eyes on it, exhaled, and tried to quiet everything else — the hum of the machines, the faint pulse under his skin, the feeling of Felix's gaze on him.
He breathed once. Twice.
The faint hum in his wrist responded. The rhythm grew louder, then steadier, like a drumbeat he couldn't fully hear but could feel. The edges of his vision dimmed slightly.
The coin twitched.
Just once. Barely visible. But it moved.
Leo's breath caught.
"Good," Felix said quietly. "Again."
Leo focused harder. The hum rose. The coin slid another inch, scraping softly against the tray. The sound was small, but it felt enormous. He grinned, chest tight with disbelief.
"I did it," he whispered.
Felix allowed the ghost of a smile. "Yes. For three seconds."
Leo looked up, but Felix's face had already returned to its calm neutrality. "We'll extend your range. Try the rod next."
Leo nodded, feeling both pride and exhaustion creeping in at once. He lifted his hand slightly and fixed on the thin silver rod. It gleamed faintly under the lab's cold light.
He matched his breathing again. One beat. Then another.
The hum in his wrist synced perfectly. The rod began to vibrate.
But then, the pulse faltered — one beat off. The vibration turned violent. The rod snapped upward, clattering against the monitor behind Felix with a sharp clang.
Leo flinched, his hand instinctively clutching his wrist. "I didn't mean—"
Felix was already examining the monitor, checking readings. "Unstable resonance," he muttered. "You're pushing too hard."
"It didn't feel like I was doing anything different."
Felix glanced at him. "Because you weren't in control."
Leo bristled. "You said to focus on the rhythm."
"And I said to guide it, not drown in it." Felix's voice sharpened, then softened again. "You have to balance it. The Bracelet amplifies your impulses. Every stray thought becomes action. That's what makes it powerful—and dangerous."
Leo swallowed, nodding. "So what now?"
"Now," Felix said, resetting the tray, "we try again. Until your pulse obeys you."
They went through another round. Then another. Each attempt drained him faster — sweat beading on his forehead, arms trembling. The small objects obeyed briefly, but every victory came with exhaustion that settled deep in his chest.
By the end, Leo was slumped forward, breathing heavily. The coin lay at the edge of the tray, trembling faintly as if mocking his effort.
Felix noted something on his pad. "Better. Still inconsistent."
Leo managed a weak laugh. "You make that sound encouraging."
Felix looked up from his notes, one eyebrow raised. "It was."
Leo let his head drop, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. "Feels like I ran a marathon."
Felix's tone turned thoughtful. "That's because you did — internally." He tapped his chest lightly. "Every beat is fuel. Control the rhythm, and the energy follows."
Leo stared at his wrist, feeling the faint warmth beneath the skin. It was strange — even in exhaustion, part of him wanted to try again. The pull was subtle but undeniable, like gravity.
Felix noticed. "Enough for today," he said. "Tomorrow, we move from motion to creation."
"Creation?"
Felix's eyes gleamed faintly in the blue light. "You'll see."
By the third day, the lab felt different — charged, alive, almost expectant.
Leo entered quietly, shoulders heavy from fatigue. Every muscle in his body ached from the last session, but beneath the pain was that strange, addictive thrum: the faint whisper of power that refused to fade.
Felix stood beside a new setup — a clear platform ringed by metal coils, faintly pulsing with blue light. "Sit," he said without turning. "We're moving to the next step."
Leo sank into the stool, exhaling. "You mean making things explode?"
Felix shot him a sidelong look. "Hopefully not. Today, you'll learn creation — converting energy into form."
"Form," Leo repeated, eyeing the machine. "You mean… making stuff out of nothing?"
"Not nothing," Felix corrected. "From resonance. Everything physical is energy condensed into order. The Bracelet lets you borrow that principle."
Leo let out a low whistle. "That sounds… dangerous."
"It is," Felix said simply. "But necessary."
He placed a small metallic ring at the center of the platform. "We'll begin with stabilizing a base structure. Think of it like sketching — the cleaner your intent, the clearer the form."
Leo nodded, already nervous. His hand hovered above the ring, his wrist tingling faintly.
"Breathe," Felix said. "Find your rhythm. Don't force it — shape it."
The hum started low, a resonance spreading from Leo's wrist up his arm, then into his chest. The air shimmered faintly above the platform.
A soft vibration rippled outward — then light.
Thin threads of silver-blue energy stretched from the ring, weaving upward like liquid glass. They formed a faint outline — a small, irregular crystal shape — before flickering unstable.
Leo gritted his teeth, focusing harder. "It's—working—"
"Don't push!" Felix barked.
But it was too late. The light flared. The crystal solidified for half a second before bursting apart, scattering tiny shards of glowing dust across the table.
The blast knocked Leo backward in his chair. His head rang, vision spinning. The hum in his wrist spasmed, then went silent.
When he blinked his eyes open again, Felix was kneeling beside him, one hand steady on his shoulder.
"Easy," Felix said, voice calm but tight. "Breathe."
Leo coughed once, the taste of iron in his mouth. "That—wasn't supposed to happen, right?"
Felix exhaled slowly, looking toward the shattered remains. "Not at that scale. You over-synchronized."
Leo tried to sit up, but his arms trembled. "Over what?"
"The Bracelet amplifies what's already there," Felix explained. "You forced more energy than your body could regulate. You're lucky it dissipated outward instead of inward."
Leo swallowed, eyes flicking to his wrist. The faint glow had returned — soft but erratic, pulsing unevenly like a warning.
"I can still feel it," he whispered.
Felix nodded once. "That's good."
"Good? It feels like it's burning."
"That means it's alive," Felix said simply. "Alive energy reacts to strain. It adapts."
Leo stared at him, disbelief shadowed by fear. "I don't know if I can do this again."
Felix stood, expression unreadable. "You can. You must."
Leo looked up sharply. "You keep saying that."
"Because it's true," Felix said, turning away. "This is only the beginning. What you did today—creating even a fragment—is extraordinary. Most would need months."
Leo gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, well, I'd trade 'extraordinary' for not almost passing out."
Felix didn't answer. He was watching the monitor again, its blue light reflecting in his eyes.
For a moment, Leo thought he saw something flicker there — not pride, not satisfaction, but worry.
Leo sat on the edge of the stool long after the light had faded.
The platform still hissed softly as its coils cooled, the faint scent of metal and ozone hanging in the air.
Felix moved quietly around him, shutting down monitors and resetting dials. The measured calm in every motion made the chaos of a few minutes ago feel almost like a dream.
"You did well," Felix said finally. His voice was even again, the professional tone that never revealed more than it had to.
Leo let out a dry laugh. "If that was 'well,' I'd hate to see bad."
Felix glanced at him. "Bad would have killed you."
The humor drained from Leo's face.
Felix softened slightly, sitting on the workbench across from him. "You're handling the strain better than expected. That reaction wasn't your fault—it's the Bracelet adapting. You gave it more energy than your body could channel."
Leo rubbed his wrist absently. "Feels like it's learning faster than I am."
Felix smiled faintly. "It is."
They sat in silence for a while, the hum of the machines the only sound. Felix scribbled something on his pad, neat precise lines of data and notes that Leo couldn't read.
When Felix spoke again, his voice was lower. "You remind me of him, you know."
Leo looked up. "My grandfather?"
Felix nodded once. "Stubborn. Brilliant. Reckless. He never knew when to stop either."
Leo hesitated. "And it killed him."
Felix's eyes flicked to him, unreadable. "He made his choice. Just as you're making yours."
The words sat heavy between them.
Leo looked down at his hands, still faintly trembling. "You said I'd need to learn control."
"You're learning."
"Feels like I'm breaking."
Felix leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Every creation begins with breaking something else. The trick is deciding what's worth breaking."
Leo frowned. "You talk like this is supposed to sound comforting."
Felix gave a brief, amused breath that wasn't quite laughter. "Comfort doesn't teach control."
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The lab lights dimmed slightly as the main system powered down. The faint glow beneath Leo's skin flickered once, then steadied—quiet, obedient, for now.
Finally Felix stood. "That's enough for today. Rest. Your resonance levels need recovery."
Leo blinked up at him. "You mean sleep?"
Felix's mouth curved in a small, almost human smile. "If you can."
Leo gathered himself slowly, muscles aching. He slipped off the stool and started toward the door. The cold air from the hallway spilled in when he pulled it open.
"Felix," he said, glancing back. "Do you ever get used to it? The way it feels?"
Felix met his gaze for a moment. "No," he said simply. "You just learn to live with it."
Leo nodded, unsure if that was supposed to comfort him or warn him.
He stepped out into the corridor, the door sliding shut behind him with a hiss. The hum of the lab faded, replaced by the steady rhythm under his skin—the one thing that refused to leave him alone.
As he climbed the stairs toward the faint light above, he realized he was beginning to trust Felix.
And that, somehow, frightened him more than the pain.