It's been two days since Agent Vale interrogated us.
Two days of silence.
The door only opened twice a day—always at the same times, always soundless—to slide in rationed meals that tasted like someone had scientifically removed joy from food. No windows. No clocks. Just white walls and the low hum of something powerful running behind them.
Time felt… optional here.
"Hey, Riley," I muttered, voice rough from disuse.
"What's up, mate?" he replied, equally drained.
"Remember how we used to joke about what prison would be like back in first grade?"
He snorted softly. "Yeah. We'd wear matching orange shirts sometimes. Said it was 'method acting.'"
I huffed. "Guess we jinxed ourselves."
He went quiet for a second, then sighed. "There's no going back to those peaceful times, is there?"
I stared at the ceiling. "Nah. This place feels so much like a prison it unlocked memories I didn't even know I had."
Before he could answer, the door slid open again—clean, surgical, final.
A different agent stepped in.
Taller. Broader.
No tablet.
No practiced smile.
Just eyes like locked doors.
"Quinn Cole," he said. "You're coming with me."
Riley straightened. "Hey—"
The agent didn't even glance at him.
Riley closed his mouth.
I stood slowly. The metal chair screeched against the floor—loud enough to feel illegal in a room this sterile. Riley and I locked eyes for a moment longer than necessary.
I'll be back, I tried to say without words.
He nodded once.
My system flickered, uncertain—like a dog torn between growling and sitting.
[STATUS CHECK — STABLE]
[RESTRAINTS: NONE]
[NOTE: NON-LETHAL INTENT… PROBABLE]
Probable.
Comforting.
The hallway outside stretched longer than it should have.
White walls.
White ceiling.
White floor.
No seams. No doors.
No visible cameras.
Just the hum—low, omnipresent—like the building itself was alive and listening. Not hostile. Not welcoming.
Observant.
We stopped at a circular chamber. The door irised open.
Inside, the floor dropped away.
Not metaphorically.
The solid ground ended, replaced by a transparent platform suspended over an immense hollow space. Beneath it, concentric rings of light rotated slowly—gold, blue, violet—stacked like broken halos.
Energy.
Data.
Mana.
Something else I didn't have a name for yet.
I stepped onto the platform.
It sealed behind me.
The agent stayed outside.
"Begin evaluation," a voice said.
Not from speakers.
Inside my head.
My system flinched.
[FOREIGN SYSTEM INTERFACE DETECTED]
[PRIORITY CONFLICT — RESOLVING]
[WARNING: OBSERVATION LEVEL EXCEEDS SAFE PARAMETERS]
"Define evaluation," I said.
The lights dimmed.
The air changed.
Pressure rolled across the platform—not crushing like the S+ Rift, but precise. Focused. Like invisible fingers testing my balance, my breath, my pulse.
"You will undergo a series of tests," an examiner said from somewhere beyond the glass. "This will allow us to understand the nature and limits of your abilities."
Limits.
The first construct formed without warning.
A humanoid silhouette of condensed blue light rose from the platform—featureless, dense, heavy. I felt it immediately.
Stronger than the creature in my house.
Weaker than Marco.
Comfortably lethal.
"Threat simulation," the voice said. "Begin."
The construct lunged.
I moved.
[THREAT DETECTED — ENHANCING MOVEMENT]
Too slow.
Its strike clipped my shoulder—not physically, but energetically. Pain detonated through my nerves like a live wire. My vision flashed white.
I stumbled back, jaw clenched.
[MINOR DAMAGE DETECTED]
[PAIN RESPONSE: ACCEPTABLE]
[RECOMMENDATION: ADAPT]
"Yeah," I hissed. "Working on it."
I steadied my breathing. Kinetic Burst flared in my palm—
—and fizzled.
"Huh?"
"Environmental dampening," the examiner replied calmly. "You are not operating at full capacity."
Am I a machine now? I thought bitterly.
The construct attacked again.
This time, I didn't push power.
I watched.
The way it shifted weight before striking. The delay between motion and impact. The rhythm—perfect.
Too perfect.
Predictable.
I stepped inside its swing and shoved—not with force, but timing.
The construct destabilized, flickering.
I followed instinctively—another kinetic pulse, angled wrong on purpose.
It shattered.
Blue light cascaded into the void below.
Silence.
Then—
"Interesting."
[NEW DATA ACQUIRED]
[COMBAT ADAPTATION RATE: HIGH]
[ANOMALY FLAG — CONFIRMED]
The platform reshaped.
The chamber dissolved.
Suddenly, I was standing on my street.
My street.
My house loomed ahead—half-burned, broken, exactly as I remembered.
My stomach dropped.
"No," I whispered.
The door creaked open.
Grandma stood inside.
Alive. Whole. Smiling.
"Quinn," she called gently. "Why didn't you come sooner?"
My system screamed.
[PSYCHOLOGICAL STIMULUS DETECTED]
[EMOTIONAL LOAD: CRITICAL]
[RECOMMENDATION: DISENGAGE]
My hands shook.
This wasn't real.
I knew it wasn't real.
That didn't stop my chest from hurting.
"I tried," I whispered. "I came as soon as I was discharged."
She tilted her head. "Then why are you still standing there?"
The house behind her moved.
Shadows stretched too long. Violet light bled through the walls. Something vast coiled inside—waiting.
A test.
Not of strength.
Of choice.
"No," I said firmly.
I stepped past her.
The illusion shattered violently—glass, memory, light collapsing into nothing.
The platform returned.
The void beneath it churned faster.
"What do you think you're doing messing with me like that?" I snapped, wiping blood from my lip.
A pause.
Then—
"Evaluation complete."
My system exploded with alerts.
[CORE STATUS: UNCHANGED]
[COMPATIBILITY CONFIRMED]
[NOTE: SUBJECT DISPLAYS NON-STANDARD RESISTANCE]
The platform lowered.
The door opened.
Agent Vale stood there, expression unreadable.
"You passed," she said.
I didn't bother replying.
"The part where we decide whether to erase you," she continued, "we're past that point. Waiting room. Left."
I laughed—shaky, involuntary. "You guys seriously need better icebreakers."
She didn't smile.
"You have a unique ability to enhance physical qualities," she said. "That's… fascinating."
Of course it was.
"The rankings. The ceilings. The limits," she continued. "We enforce them for a reason. You don't appear to have one."
That chill returned.
"And now?" I asked.
"Now," she said quietly, "we see what you become."
Deep inside me, something stirred again.
That answering pull.
That hunger.
And for the first time—
I didn't push it down.