Two months had passed like grains in an hourglass. The shelter and military base had become their home. During this time, Epsilon's combat training evolved from painful torture into a smooth dance between two partners. Null's logic and Epsilon's Edgium energy combined in the mental connection they built through the nanorobots, creating a fighting style never seen before. The deep fear Epsilon once felt about fighting slowly shifted to controlled power and confidence.
The banter between them had also changed. Null no longer responded to Epsilon's "my life" with punches, instead using the same phrase sarcastically. Her obsession with the word "girlfriend" had almost entirely vanished.
One evening, they sat resting on the training area floor after an exhausting workout.
"To overcome your traumas," Null said suddenly. "We need to confront you with them, even in a controlled way."
Epsilon tensed. "What do you mean?"
"A simulation," Null explained. "Through the nanorobots, I can recreate those memories in your mind. But this time, you're prepared. This time, you're not alone."
Epsilon's face paled. But then he saw that unwavering confidence in Null's eyes. He nodded. "Okay. Let's do it."
He sat in the center of the training area and closed his eyes. Null placed her fingers on his temple and started the simulation through the nanorobots.
When Epsilon opened his eyes, he found himself in that cold, gray middle school hallway. His hands had shrunk, his body had weakened. Across from him stood three children, much larger and taller than him. Behind him was a pale-faced girl trembling with fear.
But this time, that girl wasn't Delta. That girl was Null.
When Epsilon looked at Null behind him, his fear vanished instantly. It was replaced by a protective instinct purer and more potent than he'd ever felt.
"Don't touch her," he said, his voice determined and cold despite his childish body.
The large child, their leader, said, "What are you going to do, shrimp?" and walked toward him.
Epsilon stood as Null had taught him: calm, focused, and ready. When the child threw the first punch, Epsilon was no longer seeing with his own eyes. In his mind, Null's analyses flowed: attack angle 45 degrees, speed 12 km/s, potential impact point left cheekbone.
He ducked. The punch passed over his head. Null's voice echoed in his mind: Balance broken—0.8 second window for counterattack.
With all the strength of his small body, Epsilon turned and delivered a perfect punch to the child's liver. The child doubled over in pain. When the other two froze in shock, Epsilon lunged at them. This was no longer blind rage; it was a calculated strategy.
From outside the simulation, Null watched what was happening in amazement. Epsilon, seeing the person he was trying to protect as herself, had created another illogical but warm data stream in her systems.
When Epsilon knocked down the last child, too, the simulation ended.
When he opened his eyes, he was on the training area floor. Null still stood beside him.
"I..." Epsilon whispered. "I beat them."
"Yes," Null said, unmistakable pride in her voice. "You did."
Epsilon stood up with a confident expression. "My life," he said. "We're missing one point."
"What?" Null asked.
"I wasn't afraid of fighting because of these children," Epsilon explained. "What really scared me was that teacher. You need to confront me with him."
A worried expression appeared on Null's face. "Are you sure you're ready for that? He was more than a physical threat. He attacked your soul."
Epsilon approached Null and placed his hand on her cheek. "If I collapse, you'll lift me. I trust you."
Null remained silent for a moment at this unwavering trust. "Of course," she whispered.
Epsilon smiled, slowly leaned down, and gently kissed Null's other cheek. "That was a thank-you kiss," he said. "So nothing happens to me."
Null froze at this unexpected action. Epsilon sat back down and closed his eyes. "Start."
Epsilon found himself in that vice principal's office when the simulation began again. Across from him stood the teacher with that cruel smile on his face.
"So you still haven't learned," the teacher said and walked toward him.
The first blow caught Epsilon unprepared. The simulation was so realistic that he felt the pain to his core. He fell to the ground. The teacher was kicking him. Instinctively, Epsilon curled up to protect himself. In his mind, Null's voice echoed desperately: Get up! Defend! Use the data!
But Epsilon's body was locked with that old, ingrained fear.
"If you can," Null's voice said, this time different, more hopeful. "I'll grant you one wish."
These words broke all the locks in Epsilon's mind. A wish... From Null...
When he opened his eyes, red anger sparkled in them. He stopped the last kick with his leg, broke the teacher's balance, and sprang to his feet with incredible speed.
This was no longer a defense. This was an explosion of years of accumulated anger, resentment, and injustice. He jumped on the teacher, knocked him to the ground, and began landing his punches. Each blow was for a slap he'd received in the past, an insult he'd heard.
As the simulation teacher flailed helplessly, Epsilon raised his fist for the final blow. But just as he was about to strike, he stopped.
"You're not worth it," he whispered and got off him.
The simulation ended. When Epsilon opened his eyes, he saw Null looking at him with pride.
"Congratulations," Null said. Then she did something Epsilon never expected. She slowly leaned down and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.
Epsilon's brain stopped for a moment. His face was burning. "This... what was this for?" he stammered.
As if nothing had happened, Null pulled back and hit Epsilon's shoulder once. "You were supposed to have one wish. I granted it, you idiot!" she said, running toward the shelter. "Come on, we're going to read the book!"
Epsilon stared after her, still holding his cheek. "So... warm," he whispered to himself.