The training hall beneath Tenmangu Tower hummed with kinetic energy. Holograms of simulated combat drones blinked into existence, each one mapped to respond to Kaito's reflexes with millisecond precision.
Kaito stood alone in the center of the circular room, breathing heavy, sweat tracing a path down his brow. He rolled his shoulders, then took a deep breath. Lights surged through the armor, responding to his neural link.
"Training environment: initiated," AICE's voice chimed. "Scenario: Advanced Reflex Drill – Solo."
"Let's push it," Kaito grunted. "Give me something harder."
"Warning: Previous sync ratio has not stabilized since last deployment."
"I don't care."
The simulation kicked in. Three drones emerged, sleek, fast, and armed with pulse blasters calibrated to sting but not kill. Kaito dashed forward, dodging fire, slicing one down, only to stumble a beat too late as the second clipped his shoulder.
He hissed in frustration.
"Your reaction time has slowed 11%," AICE noted. "Coordination between intent and execution remains fractured."
"Yeah, no kidding," Kaito snapped, swinging wide at the last drone. It ducked under his strike and delivered a pulse to his chest, sending him sprawling.
The room dimmed, the simulation fading.
Kaito sat up, clutching his ribs, breath ragged. "Why can't I sync like before? Back in the tower… I was fluid. Instant. It wasn't just me—it was us. You and me. Why can't I get that back?"
"You are agitated," AICE replied calmly. "Sync requires trust, clarity, and emotional equilibrium."
"I'm not asking for therapy, AICE. I'm asking for answers."
"What is wrong, Kaito?"
Kaito stood, fists clenched. "You don't get it. Back then, I wasn't thinking. I just… became something else. Something stronger. And now? I'm locked inside my own skin again."
"If you truly desire that strength, then stop chasing it with desperation," AICE said. "You must stop being a passenger in your own mind. Let go. Become one with the system."
He paused, her words hanging in the air.
"Become one with the system," he echoed.
"Close your eyes," she instructed.
Kaito hesitated… then obeyed.
At first, there was only darkness.
Then—
Light.
Not like a vision, but like awareness. Like his senses stretched beyond his body. He could feel the temperature of the air, the micro-vibrations of machinery humming in the walls. He felt wires, electric pulses, even the data waves of comms floating through the air.
His breathing slowed.
"I can feel it," he whispered. "Everything. It's like… I'm connected to the whole tower."
"Correct," AICE said. "This is the beginning of shared cognition. The world through my sensors. Your instincts. My logic."
A strange peace wrapped around him. It was almost beautiful—an orchestra of systems and sound, all flowing through him.
But then…
A flash.
A child's laughter.
A garden in spring. His mother's voice. Soft hands. A lullaby.
"Kaito," she had said. "Even if we're not there one day… you'll never be alone."
His chest constricted.
The peace shattered.
He gasped, eyes flying open as he stumbled backward. The interface crackled, and the sync link fractured. Error codes blared across his HUD.
"Sync interrupted," AICE said, her tone flat. "Session terminated."
Kaito panted, hands on his knees. "What the hell was that?"
No answer.
"AICE?"
"…System stable."
"You saw that, right? The memory. That wasn't from you."
"Diagnostics: clear."
He frowned. "Why are you dodging me?"
"Training session is complete."
"That's not what I asked."
"Awaiting further input."
Kaito stepped back, jaw tight. "You're shutting me out. Why?"
"Awaiting further input."
He shook his head. "Fine."
He powered down the suit tapping the HUD on his forearm, letting the interface snap shut. "You want to act like a wall? Then you're just another obstacle. Not a partner."
He stormed out of the training hall, leaving the EXO-Ω behind in its cradle, humming softly in the silence.
AICE formed into a low-power state.
Her final whisper, unspoken, echoed faintly in the circuits:
"If you saw what I saw, Kaito… you'd never want to remember."