Vicky’s face brightened. “Thank you.”

  Lance glanced toward the observation window, where the nurse continued to monitor them. He shifted slightly to block the nurse’s view. “Keep it casual. Don’t react too much.”

  Vicky didn’t respond, but her eyes told him everything.

  He concentrated for a moment, feeling for the neural ability he’d appropriated from Rick. Unlike his other abilities, this one felt slippery, harder to grasp, as if it resisted his control. Most likely because he’d pushed it away for so long.

  When he finally connected with it, a tingling warmth built in his palm, subtle but unmistakable.

  Hesitantly, he reached out and placed his hand on Vicky’s shoulder. Then he pulled her in and embraced her. That part wasn’t necessary for his ability to work, but she didn’t resist. The connection formed at once—a bridge between their minds. He sensed her exhaustion, her anxiety, the constant vigilance that kept her muscles tense and her thoughts racing. Beneath it all lay a deeper current of fear—not of external threats, but of losing control again, of being made a puppet.

  Lance focused on calm, on peace, on safety. He didn’t push these feelings at her so much as invite them to flow between them, creating a feedback loop of tranquility. It wasn’t mind control, not quite. More like emotional resonance, harmonizing their mental states.

  The effect was immediate and visible. Vicky’s shoulders relaxed, the tension draining from her posture. Her breathing deepened and slowed. At the same time, Lance felt his own anxiety easing, as though his mind had recognized the pattern of calm in hers and mirrored it.

  A system message flashed behind his eyes:

  [Neural Dominion (Alpha I)] Integration

  └─Integration with existing neural framework: 47%

  └──New capability: Synchronization (limited)

  └──Submode detected: Empathic Link

  Lance blinked in surprise. The ability was evolving, becoming something different from what Rick had used. Less about control, more about connection. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

  The nurse tapped on the glass, then her voice came through the speakers. Their time was up.

  Lance slowly withdrew his hand and ended the embrace, breaking the connection. Vicky pulled away from his hospital bed, blinking a few times, looking a little disoriented before her usual veneer of casual indifference slid back into place.

  “That was...” She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”

  “Just this once,” Lance reminded her, and himself. “Tomorrow we find a better solution.”

  Vicky rose to her feet, standing to leave. At the door, she paused, turning back with an uncharacteristically hesitant expression.

  “I didn’t know her—Briella,” she said awkwardly. “But I heard you met her on your way here.”

  Lance swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “She was just trying to make it work. Like all of us.”

  “Yeah.” Vicky said. “I’m sorry, Lance.”

  Before he could respond, the door swung open, revealing Agent Garvin in her crisp suit, not a hair out of place despite the early hour.

  Lance cleared his vision, focusing his Energy Classification on her again. The Holland incident was still fresh. Too fresh to take chances with anyone. His attention caught on the unusual notification:

  [Human (Unawakened)]

  └─Arma Potential: Locked

  ‘Locked,’ Lance thought. Never seen that designation before. Wonder what it’s hiding. Must be part of the upgraded Energy Classification.

  “Visiting time’s up, Recruit Contreras,” she said briskly. “Return to your unit.”

  Vicky straightened, professional mask firmly in place. “Yes, ma’am.” She gave Lance a final knowing glance before slipping past Garvin and out of sight.

  Lance expected the special agent to exit as well, but instead she stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind her.

  “You’re healing faster than anticipated, Lawthorn,” she observed, glancing at the monitors. “Medical’s quite impressed.”

  “Enhanced healing,” Lance said with a shrug. “Comes with the territory.”

  “Indeed.” Garvin approached his bedside, producing a tablet from her briefcase. “I have your discharge paperwork here. You won’t be returning to your cell today.”

  Lance arched an eyebrow. “I’m being released already?”

  “Your recovery has exceeded expectations.” Garvin handed him the tablet and a stylus. “Sign here, here, and initial here.”

  Lance scanned the document quickly—standard medical release forms, nothing suspicious—before signing where indicated. “Where am I going if not back to training?”

  Garvin took the tablet back, her face impassive. “You’re needed elsewhere. Get dressed. Your uniform is in the locker.” She nodded toward a small cabinet by the bathroom door.

  Lance swung his legs over the side of the bed, testing his balance. His body felt solid, stable—better than stable, actually. The system upgrades he’d cataloged earlier weren’t just numbers; they translated to real physical improvements. He moved to the locker and found his uniform neatly folded inside.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Garvin said, moving toward the door. “Three minutes.”

  When she’d gone, Lance quickly stripped out of the hospital gown and dressed in the fresh uniform. His skin registered every thread and seam with newfound clarity—not uncomfortable, just different, as if his tactile sensitivity had increased. Another evolution side effect, perhaps.

  True to her word, Garvin was waiting in the hallway when he emerged. Without comment, she led him away from the recovery ward, through a series of corridors he didn’t recognize. The medical facility was larger than he’d realized, extending deep into the USEC complex.

  “Where exactly are we going?” he asked as they descended a staircase that seemed to lead underground.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “There’s a recruit who has formally requested discharge from the program,” Garvin explained, her heels clicking rhythmically on the steps. “However, this individual possesses abilities that could be valuable to USEC’s mission.”

  Lance’s steps slowed as he began to understand. “So you’ve proposed an alternative solution.”

  Garvin glanced back at him, a hint of approval in her eyes. “Precisely. An opportunity that benefits all parties involved.”

  “You want me to take their power,” Lance said bluntly.

  “We’re presenting options,” Garvin corrected, continuing down the corridor. “The recruit gets to leave without the abilities they no longer want. You get stronger. USEC advances its objective of developing capable enhanced soldiers. Everyone wins.”

  Lance digested this as they reached the bottom of the staircase. The hallway here was different—more utilitarian, with exposed pipes running along the ceiling and reinforced doors at regular intervals. Each door had a small window and an electronic keypad beside it.

  “This is coercion,” Lance challenged. “Using someone’s desire to leave as leverage.”

  “This is practicality,” Garvin countered. “The recruit in question signed the same agreement you did. Enhanced abilities developed in service members remain the property of the United States government. We could legally deny the discharge request entirely.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Because forcing someone to stay who desperately wants to leave creates more problems than solutions. We’re offering a compromise that respects their agency while preserving valuable national assets.”

  Lance fell silent, mulling over the ethical implications. Military branches had always walked a fine line—service members weren’t property, but the government had invested heavily in their training and readiness, creating a complex relationship of obligation and control—

  The thought evaporated instantly as a faint but unmistakable arma signature caught his attention. It emanated from one of the rooms they were passing. His newly evolved Adaptive Energy Classification skill activating on instinct, an additional safeguard he wouldn’t turn off anymore.

  [Human Hybrid (3rd Evolution)]

  └─Dual Classification: Psion-Technomancer

  └─WARNING: Classification capacity exceeded

  Third Evolution? Here? Terror clenched Lance’s chest. He lost a heartbeat remembering Michelle’s overwhelming strength. Second Evolution had been bad enough. She’d nearly killed him without breaking a sweat. And this... this was something worse. Was there any limit to how far these evolutions could go? The gap between each level seemed impossible.

  He slowed his pace, focusing on the frigthening energy pattern. Through a reinforced window, he glimpsed a setup resembling a lab room filled with advanced equipment. Central to the setup was what looked like a quantum computer or processing unit, but unlike any he’d seen before. Multiple screens surrounded a core component that glowed with visible arma energy, pulsing in complex patterns.

  Lance paused, drawn to the unusual configuration. As he peered through the window, attempting to make sense of what he was seeing, something extraordinary happened. A voice—not audible, but clear as crystal—spoke directly into his mind, similar to his system messages but distinctly external.

  Recruit Lawthorn. Adaptive ability user. Interesting physiological profile.

  Lance stiffened in surprise, keeping a composed exterior so Garvin wouldn’t notice the exchange. There was something oddly familiar about this presence, like hearing a voice you’ve only known through text messages. He couldn’t place it.

  Who—or what—are you? he thought back, unsure if communication was possible but willing to try.

  Dr. Li Armakov. Former radio astronomer at FAST in China. Current status... complicated. The mental voice held a trace of dry humor. During the initial arma surge, my consciousness merged with the detector array I was developing. An unexpected outcome.

  The government kidnapped you? Lance inquired, continuing the silent conversation.

  Oh, nothing so dramatic. I assist USEC voluntarily. They offered protection for my family, and I believe in their mission fundamentally. The arma phenomenon must be understood and properly channeled for humanity’s benefit.

  How do you even function? Are you still human or...? Lance began, his scientific curiosity piqued.

  A fascinating question for another time.

  Suddenly it clicked. The familiarity of the presence, the tone of the messages. Lance sensed his heart rate spike.

  Wait—it’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one who sends the directives. Why did you stop?

  The connection abruptly diminished.

  Your handler is growing impatient. I look forward to seeing your progress, antihero.

  “Lawthorn.” The sound of Garvin’s voice startled Lance like a sudden physical tap on the shoulder. “Keep moving. We’re behind schedule.”

  Lance’s head whipped around, returning his focus to the corridor. “Sorry. Just... noticed something interesting.”

  Garvin eyed the lab, then Lance with a suspicious look. “That section is classified. Focus on the task at hand.”

  Lance followed without argument, filing away the strange encounter for future consideration as they continued down the hallway. Whatever—whoever—Armakov was, he represented yet another layer to the USEC operation that Lance hadn’t anticipated. A mental chessboard rearranged itself in his mind, pieces shifting to accommodate this new player.

  They turned a corner, entering a section with heavier security. A guard station stood before a set of double doors, manned by two armed soldiers who straightened as Garvin got closer.

  [Human (Unawakened)]

  └─Arma Potential: Minimal

  The guard’s signature was faint, barely registering. Not a threat. The two soldiers yielded similar results.

  “Agent Garvin, clearance Alpha-Seven,” she said, presenting her credentials. “Plus one escort, authorized by General Washington.”

  The guards verified her identification, then waved them through. Beyond the double doors lay another corridor, this one lined with what appeared to be containment cells rather than labs. Every door was solid metal with only a small one-way glass, and the arma-dampening technology was palpable in the air, creating a slight pressure against Lance’s enhanced senses.

  “Why are we in a high-security area?” Lance asked, unease growing as they passed cell after cell.

  “Some abilities require special control protocols,” Garvin replied evenly. “Especially those that manifest involuntarily or respond to emotional triggers.”

  They stopped before a door marked ‘Interview Room C’. Unlike the containment cells, this one had a larger window that revealed a simple room with a table and chairs. Two people waited inside—a young woman Lance recognized from the pavilion and Dr. Nazari, who sat reviewing documents on a tablet.

  [Human Mystic (1st Evolution)]

  └─Evolution Progress: Stage 1

  [Human (Unawakened)]

  └─Arma Potential: Trace

  The doctor’s near-zero potential explained her fascination with enhanced individuals. Hard to understand what you couldn’t experience yourself.

  “The recruit is ready?” Garvin asked.

  “Yes, all paperwork is prepared,” Dr. Nazari replied. “She’s been briefed on the procedure and potential outcomes.”

  Garvin turned to Lance. “You’ll meet with Recruit Huan. She possesses a teleportation ability that USEC considers valuable, but which she finds... problematic. Dr. Nazari will explain the technical aspects and monitor the process if you agree to proceed.”

  Lance frowned, studying the young woman behind the glass. Huan looked exhausted and on edge, fingers jumping nervously on the table. “What’s wrong with her ability? Why does she want to get rid of it?”

  “That’s her story to tell,” Garvin said. “You’ll have time to discuss before making a decision.”

  Lance stared at her, considered his options, then said, “And if I refuse?”

  “Then Huan remains in the program with her abilities intact, or we continue seeking alternative arrangements.” With a professionally neutral tone, Garvin continued. “No one is being forced, Lawthorn. This is an option, not an order.”

  Lance considered this, weighing his own complicated feelings about acquiring another person’s power against the obvious distress of the recruit inside. Finally, he dipped his chin. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Good.” Garvin opened the door, gesturing for Lance to enter. “Dr. Nazari will oversee the discussion and any subsequent procedure. I’ll return in thirty minutes for your decision.”