"Again," Lieutenant Voss says, her voice firm but not unkind. "Focus on the mental construct. Visualize it completely before attempting to project."

  I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the sweat beading on my forehead. We've been at this for over two hours, and my mind feels like it's been stretched and twisted into configurations it was never meant to hold.

  The training room is sparsely furnished—just two chairs facing each other, monitoring equipment along the walls, and a large observation window currently polarized for privacy. The air smells faintly of antiseptic, with underlying notes of stress pheromones from countless previous sessions.

  I close my eyes, focusing on the mental exercise. First, construct the image in my mind—in this case, a simple red cube. Next, build it detail by detail—dimensions, texture, weight, temperature. Make it as real as possible in my imagination. Then, the hard part—project it outward, across the space between us, into Lieutenant Voss's waiting consciousness.

  This is basic telepathic training, she explained earlier. Before I can learn to shield effectively, I need to understand precisely how my mind reaches outward. Like learning the full extension of a limb before knowing how to restrain its movement.

  I feel the now-familiar pressure building in my mind as I concentrate on the cube, mentally pushing it toward Lieutenant Voss. The effort makes my temples throb.

  "Better," she says after a moment. "The image was clearer that time. I could perceive the slight irregularity on the bottom edge you included."

  I open my eyes, surprise momentarily overshadowing my fatigue. "That worked?"

  She nods, making a note on her datapad. "Projection successful at level three clarity. Your progress is... remarkable." There's something in her tone—not quite concern, but a shadow of it.

  "Is that good?" I ask, reaching for the water bottle beside my chair.

  "It's unprecedented," she says carefully. "Most resistants take weeks to achieve level three clarity. You've done it in a single session."

  The unspoken question hangs between us: Why am I learning so quickly? Is it the genetic modifications Dr. Khoury identified? The resonance with Elara? Or something else entirely?

  "Let's move on to reception," Lieutenant Voss continues, setting aside her datapad. "This is typically more challenging than projection. You'll need to open your mind to incoming information while maintaining your core identity boundaries."

  She explains the technique—a controlled lowering of mental barriers to allow specific information to enter while keeping my sense of self intact. It sounds dangerously similar to what the Nexari tried to do to me, and I voice this concern.

  "There's a fundamental difference," she assures me. "The Nexari hive mind seeks to subsume individual consciousness into the collective. What we're practicing is more like... selective listening. You remain fully yourself, just temporarily receptive to specific external input."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  I nod, still uneasy but willing to try. She instructs me to close my eyes again, then begins projecting her own mental construct—what, she doesn't tell me, as that would defeat the purpose of the exercise.

  I follow her instructions, gradually relaxing the barriers I've instinctively maintained since pushing back against the Nexari collective. It's uncomfortable, like deliberately lowering a shield while arrows are flying.

  At first, there's nothing. Then, fragments—impressions more than images. Something blue. Movement. A sense of rhythm. I focus harder, trying to assemble these pieces into a coherent whole.

  Suddenly, it clicks. "Ocean waves," I say, opening my eyes. "You're projecting an image of ocean waves against a shoreline."

  Lieutenant Voss raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Not just the image. Did you get anything else?"

  I close my eyes again, reaching for the lingering impressions. "Salt air. The sound of the waves. A feeling of... peace." I open my eyes, surprised by the last element. "Was that from a memory?"

  "Yes," she confirms. "A beach on Earth where I spent time as a child. The emotional content was deliberate—it's typically the hardest aspect to transmit and receive clearly."

  "Yet I got it," I note, understanding her continued surprise at my rapid progress.

  "Yes." She makes additional notes, her expression thoughtful. "I think we should accelerate your training schedule. Move directly to reciprocal exchange rather than spending more time on basic projection and reception."

  The remainder of the session focuses on this more advanced technique—simultaneously projecting and receiving mental constructs, creating a two-way flow of information. It's challenging in a different way, requiring a kind of mental multitasking I've never attempted before. By the end, I'm mentally exhausted but exhilarated by what we've accomplished.

  "That's enough for today," Lieutenant Voss says finally, checking the time. "You've made exceptional progress, Andrew. Take the rest of the morning to recover. We'll continue after lunch with preliminary shielding techniques."

  As we're gathering our things to leave, I decide to ask something that's been bothering me since last night. "Lieutenant, can I ask you something about Elara?"

  She pauses, her expression guarded. "What about her?"

  "The resonance between us—you didn't seem surprised by it yesterday. Almost like you expected it."

  She considers her response carefully. "Not expected, exactly. But there were... indications it might be possible. Certain patterns in how resistant abilities manifest, theories about complementary neural structures."

  "Did Elara know about these theories?" I press. "Is that why she was so quick to request transfer when she sensed me?"

  "My daughter has always been interested in the theoretical edges of resistant research," she says diplomatically. "What she may have anticipated about your connection, you'd have to ask her directly."

  It's not really an answer, and we both know it. But before I can push further, the training room door slides open, revealing Dr. Khoury with two research assistants behind her.

  "Lieutenant Voss," she acknowledges with a brief nod. "I trust the session was productive?"

  "Extremely," Voss replies. "Andrew has progressed to reciprocal exchange already. His aptitude is extraordinary."

  Dr. Khoury doesn't look surprised. "Excellent. The Admiral will be pleased." She turns to me. "If you're finished here, I'd like to run some additional scans while your neural pathways are still actively engaged from training."

  It doesn't sound like a request I can refuse. I glance at Lieutenant Voss, who gives me a subtle nod indicating I should comply.

  "Of course," I agree, following Dr. Khoury and her assistants to a medical lab nearby.