The scans are extensive and uncomfortable—neural mapping, genetic sequencing, psionic output measurements. Throughout the process, Dr. Khoury maintains a clinical detachment, rarely speaking to me directly beyond basic instructions. Instead, she confers quietly with her assistants, using technical terminology deliberately complex enough to obscure meaning.

  I catch fragments, though. "Accelerated pathway formation." "Resonance amplification." "Protocol markers activating sequentially." None of it means much to me in isolation, but the overall impression is clear—they're monitoring changes in me that they at least partially expected.

  Finally, after nearly two hours of tests, Dr. Khoury dismisses her assistants and addresses me directly for the first time since beginning the scans.

  "Your development continues to exceed baseline predictions," she says, studying a final set of results on her datapad. "The neural adaptations that typically take months in other resistants are occurring in days with you. It's... remarkable."

  "So I've been told," I respond, unable to keep a hint of dryness from my tone. "What does it mean?"

  She looks up, studying me with those sharp, evaluative eyes. "It means you're exactly what we've been looking for, Andrew. A resistant whose neural plasticity allows for rapid integration of psionic abilities without the usual limitations or side effects."

  "The perfect subject for the Nexus Protocol," I suggest.

  Something flickers across her face—surprise, perhaps, that I'm connecting these dots. "Yes," she acknowledges after a brief hesitation. "Though that term is technically classified beyond your current clearance."

  "I've heard it mentioned," I say vaguely, not wanting to implicate anyone specific.

  "I'm sure you have." She sets down her datapad, seeming to come to a decision. "The Nexus Protocol isn't just research into resistant abilities, Andrew. It's the culmination of decades of work to understand and potentially counter the Nexari's greatest advantage—their hive mind consciousness."

  "By creating humans who can resist it," I supply.

  "That was phase one," she confirms. "Identifying those with natural resistance capabilities, understanding the mechanisms behind that resistance. Phase two involves enhancing and extending those capabilities—developing them into something beyond mere defensive measures."

  "Into weapons," I say bluntly.

  "Into tools," she corrects smoothly. "The distinction matters. A weapon is designed solely to destroy. A tool can create, connect, transform—or yes, defend when necessary."

  "And what kind of tool am I supposed to become in this protocol?" I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

  Dr. Khoury studies me for a long moment. "Potentially, the most important one. Your connection with Specialist Voss opens possibilities we've only theorized about until now. The resonance between compatible resistant minds, amplifying abilities beyond what either could achieve alone."

  "To what end?" I press. "What does Border Command actually want to achieve with the Nexus Protocol?"

  Her expression becomes guarded again. "That information is still beyond your clearance level. For now, focus on your training. Learn to control and expand your abilities. The larger context will become clear in time."

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  With that, she dismisses me, turning back to her data as if I've ceased to exist. I leave the medical lab with more questions than answers, and a growing sense that everyone around me knows more about what I'm becoming than I do myself.

  It's nearly midday, and my stomach reminds me that I haven't eaten since an early breakfast. I make my way to the mess hall, hoping to find some of the other resistants there. I could use some straight talk after the carefully measured responses from Lieutenant Voss and Dr. Khoury.

  The mess hall is busy with the lunch crowd—researchers, security personnel, support staff all mingling in the large, open space. I spot Lopez and Dr. Chen at what Lopez jokingly called "the freak table" yesterday, and make my way over with my tray.

  "There he is," Lopez announces as I sit down. "How was your first official training session with the Lieutenant?"

  "Intense," I admit. "Apparently I'm progressing faster than normal."

  "No surprise there," Dr. Chen comments, not looking up from the datapad he's reading while eating. "Your neural plasticity readings are off the charts."

  "You've seen my medical data?" I ask, surprised.

  Now he does look up, a hint of guilt crossing his face. "Not officially. But when you work in quantum computing on a research station, certain data security measures are... navigable."

  "What Marcus means," Lopez translates with a grin, "is that he hacked your file because we were all curious about the new guy who's got Thorn and Khoury so excited."

  "Carlos," Dr. Chen hisses, looking around nervously. "That's not something to announce in the mess hall."

  "Relax," Lopez dismisses his concern. "Nobody's listening, and Andrew deserves to know he's the station's newest lab rat celebrity."

  "Is that what I am?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light despite the unease their exchange provokes.

  Dr. Chen sighs, setting down his datapad. "You're a significant research subject, yes. Your rate of neural adaptation is unprecedented, and the resonance with Specialist Voss opens experimental avenues that have been theoretical until now."

  "But we're also people," Lopez adds firmly. "Not just subjects or assets or whatever clinical term Khoury wants to use this week. That's what this table is about—remembering we're more than our abilities or usefulness to Border Command."

  I appreciate his perspective, even as I wonder how much he knows about my genetic modifications or Elara's theories about their origin. Before I can decide whether to broach the subject, Commander Wells joins us, setting her tray down with precise movements.

  "Gentlemen," she greets us. "Andrew, I hear your training is progressing exceptionally well."

  "Word travels fast," I observe.

  "It's a research station," she says with a slight smile. "Scientific gossip is the primary form of entertainment." Her expression becomes more serious. "I wanted to check in. The first days of integration can be... disorienting. How are you adjusting?"

  There's genuine concern in her question, reminding me that everyone at this table has experienced their own version of what I'm going through—the sudden manifestation of abilities that set them apart, the scrutiny of Border Command researchers, the struggle to redefine their identity and purpose.

  "I'm managing," I say, not wanting to reveal too much about Elara's theories or my own growing concerns. "Still trying to separate facts from speculation about what's happening to me."

  "Wise approach," she approves. "There's no shortage of theories about resistant abilities, most of them incomplete at best. Trust your own experience over anyone else's interpretation of it."

  "Including Border Command's?" I ask, watching her reaction carefully.

  Something flickers in her eyes—caution, perhaps, or recognition of the implied challenge in my question. "Border Command has more data than any individual," she says diplomatically. "But data interpretation is always influenced by predetermined objectives. Keep that in mind when evaluating their conclusions."

  It's a carefully balanced response, neither fully endorsing Border Command's perspective nor overtly questioning it. I get the sense that Commander Wells has had long practice walking this line—working within the system while maintaining her own evaluative independence.