Kael Voss had no time to waste waiting passively. In at most four to five months, Dr. Mordecai Thorne would show his true colors and confront him head-on. He had to gain enough self-defense capabilities before then—no exceptions.
Thus, he made a decisive choice: focus solely on mastering a few simple, quick-to-learn combat techniques from the Quantum Blink Strike Technique archives that he could put to use immediately. The rest could wait; survival came first. Once he escaped this deadly predicament, he'd have all the time in the world to refine the more complex protocols.
This strategic choice drastically shortened his training timeline, allowing him to master practical skills in the shortest possible window.
Kael was under no illusions. Even if he mastered every technique in the archives, he doubted he could truly defeat Dr. Thorne. If the scientist's boasts about his past as a frontier overlord were true, he must have countless lethal tricks hidden away—tricks far deadlier than the genetic energy strikes he'd revealed in their last confrontation. What Kael had witnessed was likely just a fraction of his true power.
The mere memory of Dr. Thorne's inhuman speed and precision sent a chill down Kael's spine. He knew his hastily acquired skills would barely scratch the scientist, but surrendering to fate was never an option. He'd rather fight and fail than let himself be manipulated like a lab rat.
Kael understood that his only chance of survival in a future confrontation lay in Dr. Thorne's arrogance. The scientist underestimated him—saw him as nothing more than a compliant vessel. If he could catch Dr. Thorne off guard, exploiting that contempt to strike unexpectedly, he might just carve out a glimmer of hope.
In the days that followed, Kael committed every line of the Quantum Blink archives to his enhanced memory. From the countless fragmented techniques, he selected three that suited his current strengths: a neural-triggered evasion maneuver, a precision strike that bypassed energy shields, and a micro-sensory disruption trick. He then spent hours refining a streamlined training regimen, leveraging his fourth-tier Unnamed Gene Calibration Protocol's enhanced cognitive processing to map out the fastest path to mastery.
To his own satisfaction, he compiled a complete practice plan in just three days—a feat that would have taken ordinary apprentices weeks.
Over the next two weeks, Kael tied up all loose ends, ensuring he had no distractions or lingering responsibilities.
First, he returned the original Quantum Blink data slabs to Ryder Blackwood, unaltered. He also casually mentioned his discovery of Wolfpack spies within the Verdant Bio-Dome—including the portly mess hall supervisor who'd been smuggling information. Handing over such a valuable lead was a no-brainer for Kael; he had no time to deal with spy hunts, and currying favor with Ryder cost him nothing.
As expected, Ryder was overjoyed. He clapped Kael hard on the shoulder, roaring praises of "good brother" and gushing with gratitude for the free merit. Unbeknownst to him, Kael was already preoccupied with his own survival—this small gesture was merely a convenient way to settle his debts.
Next, Kael visited several master engineers in the bio-dome's fabrication sector. He commissioned three custom plasma-edged short blades, each with subtle modifications to their energy cores and hilts. He also ordered a set of tiny, unidentifiable alloy components and half a dozen miniature vibration sensors, demanding the fastest turnaround possible. The cost drained a significant portion of his credit reserves, leaving him wincing at the expense—but survival was worth every credit.
Three days later, Kael collected his order. The blades glinted with a cold cyan light, their edges humming faintly with contained plasma, and the sensors were compact enough to fit in the palm of his hand. He inspected each piece meticulously, nodding in satisfaction—his credits had been well spent.
That night, Kael vanished from his private cabin in the Verdant Bio-Dome without a trace. The only clue he left was a digital note projected on his bedside console:
"Dr. Thorne,
No need for concern—I am not fleeing. Sharing the bio-dome with you has created too much mental strain, which hinders my progress in the Unnamed Gene Calibration Protocol. To resolve this, I have decided to seek a secluded location in the asteroid field to meditate and train in seclusion. Rest assured, I will return promptly in four months' time to meet with you as promised.
Respectfully,
Kael Voss"
Dr. Thorne sat in his reinforced bio-synthetic chair, the holographic note floating before him. His ashen face was stormy, a deep frown creasing his forehead. On the lab console beside him lay another document: the order form Kael had submitted to the fabrication sector, listing every custom item he'd commissioned.
The only sound in the room was the sharp, rhythmic tapping of Dr. Thorne's index finger against the console—each tap echoing like a hammer blow in the tense silence.
Suddenly, he let out a cold snort. The holographic note shattered into a shower of digital particles, dissipating into the air.
He stood abruptly, pacing back and forth across the lab, his mind racing. After several tense circuits, he stopped, his sunken eyes glinting with malice as he muttered to himself:
"You little brat… I don't know what games you're playing, but no matter the trick, you'll never escape my grasp. You are mine—now and forever."
With that, he spun on his heel and strode to the lab's observation window. A long, low whistle escaped his lips—sharp and melodic, carrying through the bio-dome's ventilation system. Seconds later, a small, iridescent bird with metallic feathers darted through the window, circling the room twice before landing gently on his shoulder.
It nuzzled his cheek affectionately, letting out soft, trilling chirps. This was a Cloud-Wing Scout—a gene-modified avian drone, faster than a plasma bolt and capable of tracking bio-signatures across light-years.
"Good boy, I know you're hungry," Dr. Thorne's gloomy expression softened slightly, a rare flicker of fondness in his eyes. He pulled a small, glowing pellet from his lab coat—a nutrient core tailored to the scout's genetic needs—and fed it to the bird.
"Go. Follow him as you did before. If he leaves this asteroid field, return to me immediately. Do not lose him." He spoke in a low, commanding tone, as one might address a loyal soldier.
The Cloud-Wing Scout chirped excitedly, swallowed the pellet, and circled the room once more before darting back out the window, vanishing into the dark of space.
Dr. Thorne's lips twisted into a sinister smile. "With a Cloud-Wing Scout on your trail—faster than any combat drone—what hope do you have of hiding? Your little games amuse me."
He turned back to the console, his eyes blazing with frenzied anticipation. "Four months, huh? I'll wait. The plan is finally coming to fruition. Anyone who dares stand in my way—who dares threaten my immortality—will be destroyed. Gods or devils, it matters not. I will not be denied."
A booming, maniacal laugh erupted from his throat, echoing through the empty lab as his violet bio-toxin tendrils writhed beneath his skin—proof of his growing desperation and unbridled ambition.