The next morning came without sunlight.
Down in the bowels of the military hospital, time was a concept that didn't exist. The corridors were still soaked in that sterile blue-white glow, the kind that made skin look pale and eyes hollow. The walls hummed softly with the endless breath of machinery.
Blade woke up in his assigned quarters a cell dressed as a room. The bed was clean, the air recycled, and the camera above the corner red light blinked at him in slow, patient rhythm.
He sat up, fingers running across his forearm. The skin that had been torn open during last night's fight was gone without a trace. Smooth. Untouched. Not even a scar.
He flexed his hand and felt it: the pulse beneath the surface, subtle but alive, like a second heartbeat that wasn't his.
It's still there.
His mind felt clearer now. Not peaceful never that but sharp, like someone had scraped away the fog that had been clogging his thoughts.
A chime sounded.
The door slid open, revealing two armored guards in black tactical gear. No words. Just a gesture follow.
Blade rose, silent.
They walked through a long corridor lined with reinforced glass panels. Behind some of them, he saw the faint shapes of others subjects. Some were asleep, others strapped into monitoring chairs, veins glowing with faint light. The hum of machines filled the air like a constant low chant.
No one looked human anymore. Not really.
At the end of the corridor, the guards stopped before a sealed elevator. One scanned a badge, another entered a code. The doors opened with a hydraulic hiss.
The descent was long. No buttons, no indicators just darkness sliding past the glass walls. Blade stood still, arms crossed, eyes half narrowed.
"Level?" he finally asked.
"Subsection Nine," one of the guards replied flatly. "Combat Division."
Combat Division. The words rang like a warning bell.
When the elevator doors opened again, the first thing that hit him was the sound—a distant metallic thunder, like heavy impacts echoing through a massive chamber. The second thing was the heat.
This level wasn't sterile. It was alive.
The floor stretched out into an enormous circular arena, lined with metallic platforms, control booths, and mechanical arms hanging from the ceiling like giant claws. Training mechs marched in synchronized patterns, each carrying weapons that gleamed under the harsh light.
Technicians moved along railings, adjusting instruments, calling out readings. The air smelled of oil and ozone.
At the center of it all stood Crow, flanked by two scientists.
He looked up as Blade stepped out of the elevator. "You're on time. Good."
"I didn't know I had a choice," Blade replied, voice dry.
Crow smiled slightly. "You always have a choice. It's just that all the other options end badly."
Blade didn't answer.
Crow gestured toward the vast arena. "This is your new environment. Think of it as your playground, or your battlefield, depending on your attitude."
Blade glanced around. "Looks more like a slaughterhouse."
Crow's grin widened. "Depends who's holding the knife."
A drone floated near them, scanning Blade's vitals. Crow turned to one of the assistants. "Begin calibration sequence."
"Copy that," the man replied, typing rapidly on a tablet.
The floor beneath Blade shifted slightly, plates moving and rearranging into a massive circular platform. Symbols lit up along the edges biometric trackers syncing with his presence.
A robotic arm descended from above, holding a thin black collar.
Blade frowned. "What's that?"
"Regulator," Crow said. "Tracks your neural and muscular output during combat. Think of it as… insurance."
"Insurance for who?"
Crow's smile didn't fade. "For everyone else."
The collar snapped around Blade's neck. A faint pulse ran through it, almost electric, but tolerable.
Crow watched the readings on his monitor. "Perfect. Neural sync at ninety-eight percent. That's higher than expected."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning you might survive today's test."
Blade's eyes narrowed. "Test against what?"
Crow raised a hand. "Release target drone set Alpha."
Across the arena, panels in the floor opened, and three mechanical units rose from beneath sleek, humanoid drones with bladed arms and glowing cores in their chests. Their movements were sharp and predatory, each step echoing across the chamber.
Blade rolled his shoulders, stretching slightly. "So, I just break your toys?"
"Try not to. They cost more than you do."
"Noted."
The drones locked onto him instantly. Their targeting sensors lit up, painting red lines across his chest and head.
Then the lights dimmed.
A siren wailed once.
Crow's voice echoed through the speakers: "Calibration Test Begin."
The drones moved.
They launched forward in a synchronized strike two from the sides, one straight on. Blades extended, humming with vibration.
Blade ducked under the first strike, pivoting as the second drone slashed at him. He caught the metallic arm mid-swing, twisted, and drove his knee into its core. Metal crumpled with a sharp crack.
Before he could recover, the third drone lunged.
He spun, grabbed its wrist, and yanked. The blade arm tore free with a shower of sparks.
The movement was instinctive too instinctive. His muscles reacted faster than thought, guided by something deeper, primal.
My body remembers things my mind doesn't.
He dodged another strike, slammed his fist into the nearest drone's core, and felt the pulse again—the same vibration that had awakened during the fight with the creature. His vision sharpened. The world slowed down, each motion stretching into clarity.
He could see the energy lines inside the drones the flow of power through their synthetic veins. He struck where they intersected.
One blow. One explosion of light.
The drone dropped, silent.
Crow's voice came through again. Calm. Analytical. "Excellent reaction speed. Neural sync holding steady. Increase difficulty level two."
The remaining drones split formation. New weapons extended from their arms pulse cannons.
Blade moved before they fired. His body blurred, faster than his mind could follow. He closed the distance, smashed through the first drone's core, then turned to the second too late. A pulse round hit him square in the chest.
The impact sent him flying back across the platform. He hit the metal hard, the air driven from his lungs. Smoke curled from his uniform where the round had burned through.
Crow leaned forward slightly. "Regeneration status?"
One of the scientists called out, "Rapid recovery detected! Cellular activity spiking—two hundred percent baseline!"
Crow's smile returned. "There it is."
Blade stood slowly, chest still smoking but the burn was gone. Skin knitted itself back together in seconds.
He looked down at his hands, flexing them once more.
This is what they made me for.
He took a step forward, then another. His pace quickened into a sprint. The drones fired again, but he was already gone from their sights.
A flicker. A blur. Impact.
Both drones shattered in seconds, sparks raining down as he tore through them like paper.
When the smoke cleared, Blade stood at the center of the arena once more, surrounded by the remains of twisted metal.
The collar around his neck beeped softly, monitoring his pulse.
Crow stepped closer to the glass wall separating them, studying him with quiet fascination. "You adapt quickly. Faster than any subject I've seen."
Blade glanced up, eyes cold. "Maybe you just built better prey."
Crow chuckled. "Or maybe you were born for this."
Blade didn't answer. The hum under his skin had quieted again, but his heartbeat was anything but steady.
He looked at the broken drones around him then at his own hands.
Every instinct told him this wasn't training. It was conditioning.
And he was the experiment learning how to hunt.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Only the faint hiss of cooling metal filled the air.
Blade stood amid the wreckage, chest rising and falling slowly, his knuckles slick with oil instead of blood. He didn't look triumphant. He looked… detached, as if watching someone else move his hands.
Up behind the glass, Crow didn't blink once. His fingers danced over the console, scrolling through streams of data that filled the monitors around him.
"Cellular synchronization complete," one of the scientists muttered. "Reaction time down to point-zero-four seconds. Regeneration threshold exceeded human limits again."
Crow murmured, "He's stabilizing faster each time."
"Should we adjust the inhibitor?"
"No." Crow smiled faintly. "Let him breathe. Let him believe he's free."
He turned the mic back on. "Blade, that was impressive. You're learning to listen to your body."
Blade didn't respond. He was staring down at his reflection on the metal floor a reflection that didn't quite match his movements. For a heartbeat, it lagged behind, as if something else inside him was struggling to keep up.
"What are you seeing right now?" Crow asked through the speaker.
"Nothing," Blade said flatly.
Crow's eyes narrowed. "That's not true. Your vitals spike whenever you activate your ability. You see something."
Blade met the doctor's gaze through the glass. "I see enough to know you're hiding something."
Crow chuckled, the sound soft but sharp. "You'll learn soon enough. For now, I need to test your interaction with other assets."
He gestured toward the far end of the arena. A reinforced door slid open with a hiss.
From the shadows, someone stepped out.
At first glance, he looked human same military uniform, same collar but his presence felt heavier, more grounded. His hair was dark, eyes a sharp amber that almost glowed under the arena lights. Across his arms, faint circuit-like veins pulsed with light.
Crow's tone shifted. "Subject Eleven. Codename: Vex. He's been with the program for two months longer than you. Consider this a comparative analysis."
Blade frowned. "You're pairing me against him?"
"Not pairing." Crow's voice carried amusement. "Observing."
Vex approached slowly, rolling his shoulders. His expression was blank, but there was a kind of arrogance in the way he moved a predator that already knew his rank in the food chain.
He stopped a few meters from Blade and tilted his head slightly. "You're the new one," he said, voice calm, deep.
"Apparently."
Vex's eyes flicked up and down, studying him. "You look fragile."
Blade smiled faintly. "Try me."
Crow's voice echoed: "Non-lethal engagement. Test synchronization under combat stress."
Vex cracked his neck. "Define non-lethal."
Crow ignored him. "Begin."
The air shifted.
Vex vanished. One blink, and he was gone from sight.
Blade's instincts screamed. He dropped low, just as something sliced through the space where his head had been a blur of movement and pressure.
The ground cracked under the impact.
Blade looked up in time to see Vex reappear, his right arm glowing faintly red, energy rippling through it like fire trapped beneath the skin.
Speed… no, teleportation?
No the air shimmered behind Vex, rippling where he'd been an instant before. He wasn't teleporting; he was compressing distance itself.
Blade barely had time to think before Vex was on him again.
A fist connected with his ribs a dull, explosive impact that sent him sliding back across the platform. Pain flared, bright and sharp, but it faded almost instantly as his regeneration kicked in.
Vex smirked. "Regeneration too? Figures. They're mass-producing freaks now."
Blade wiped his mouth, feeling no blood. "You talk too much."
He lunged forward, closing the gap between them. His movements blurred, faster than before the air around him bending, time slowing.
Skill One: Temporal Shift.
Everything around him slowed to a crawl. The humming lights, the sound of machinery, even the faint motion of Crow's lab coat behind the glass all stretched thin, sluggish.
He could see Vex's attack before it came.
Blade sidestepped, grabbed his arm, and drove his knee into Vex's side.
The sound cracked through the arena like a gunshot.
But Vex didn't fall. He grinned, grabbed Blade's arm in return, and twisted.
There was a brief flash light rippling across his veins and suddenly Blade was airborne, slammed into the floor with brutal precision.
The moment shattered his focus. Time snapped back into normal speed.
Crow was watching every detail. "Fascinating. Vex is channeling kinetic force through his own muscle fibers. He's not teleporting he's folding acceleration vectors."
"English," one of the scientists muttered.
"He's weaponizing momentum," Crow said, smiling. "Brilliant."
On the arena floor, Blade rolled to his feet again, chest heaving. He felt the weight of Vex's energy pressing against him like gravity.
He narrowed his eyes. "Let's even the odds."
His vision flickered the world tinting faint blue as another ability surfaced. Shadows around Vex glowed faintly, tracing the lines of energy that pulsed within his body.
Skill Three: The Insight Eye.
And there it was a clear view of how Vex's power worked. The flow of energy through his muscles, the delay before release, the overload points.
Blade smirked. "Got you."
Vex lunged again, but Blade was already moving. He stepped into the strike, twisted, and landed a counterpunch directly into one of the glowing nodes along Vex's arm.
There was a sharp crack of energy, followed by a burst of static. Vex staggered back, eyes wide in surprise.
Crow's monitors spiked. "Direct hit on focal conduit… incredible."
Vex regained his footing quickly, expression darkening. "Lucky shot."
"Not really," Blade said quietly.
They clashed again. Sparks flew, shockwaves rippled through the platform. Each strike was faster, heavier, more precise a dance of violence performed under blinding light.
Crow watched like a god behind glass, his reflection merging with theirs on the arena floor.
When Blade's final hit connected a spinning strike to the chest that sent Vex crashing into the wall the lights flickered and dimmed.
The collar on both men beeped in warning.
Crow lifted his hand. "That's enough."
Vex lay on one knee, panting, his skin still glowing faintly with heat. Blade stood across from him, chest rising slowly, eyes locked on his opponent.
Then, to Blade's surprise, Vex grinned.
"Not bad," he said, standing up. "You'll last a week."
Before Blade could reply, two guards entered the arena, weapons at the ready. They escorted both subjects to opposite exits.
Crow watched them leave, his expression unreadable. "Two exceptional results. But one of them doesn't know his potential yet."
The assistant beside him asked, "Which one?"
Crow smiled. "The one who's still asking questions."
Blade was escorted back to his quarters. The corridor lights flickered overhead as if reacting to his pulse. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling slightly.
He didn't feel tired just… disconnected. The adrenaline still sang in his veins. His thoughts spun in fragments.
Temporal control. Regeneration. Perception.
Who was I before this?
He glanced at the mirror across the room. For a moment, he saw himself reflected clearly. Then, behind him, a faint shimmer the ghost of another face.
It was gone when he turned.
He sat there in the quiet, the hum of the collar echoing in the stillness.
Somewhere deep below, he could feel something inside him someone still moving.
Still waking up.