- Oliver -

  There was a general murmur of agreement among the group, but Oliver hesitated. Slowly, he raised his hand. "Not yet," he admitted.

  Dante scratched his beard thoughtfully—the face he wore still altered from his earlier demonstration—and stepped closer to Oliver, studying him intently. "That's going to be hard," the officer remarked. "You have very little time."

  "Won't six months be enough?" Oliver asked in surprise. He recalled that Katherine had mentioned one month of training was sufficient to master control. ‘That would leave five months remaining’, he thought.

  "The issue is that you won't be spending those six months inside the base," Dante expined. "That's the total duration of your training period. However, I'll be sending you into the field to practice and, above all, to test your skills. So you have days to prepare for the next lesson."

  Oliver ran a hand through his hair, his concern growing. The faces of the others didn't look much better. ‘Maybe they know how to control it, but they don't seem very confident,’ he mused.

  "Blue Ranger, continue training until you have full command over your armor form," Dante directed. "But meanwhile, observe the exercise the others will be performing."

  Oliver nodded. His apprehension intensified significantly.

  "Take advantage of this room," Dante continued. "It's the quietest space in the entire base. It’ll help your training since it will need a lot of concentration, yet it will be straightforward. Without activating your armor, you must feel your Energy flowing through your bodies."

  Standing before them, the instructor closed his eyes as if demonstrating what he meant. However, Oliver couldn't discern exactly what he was doing. He gnced around at the others, whose expressions mirrored his confusion.

  ‘At least it's not just me,’ he tried to reassure himself.

  "Once you have your Energy flowing and you've gained control over it," Dante expined, his gaze steady as it swept across the Rangers, "you must compress it beneath your skin until none of it escapes your body."

  He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle. The room was silent, each Ranger processing the extent of the task. Expressions of wonder and uncertainty flickered on their faces.

  After a moment, the Pink Ranger raised her hand hesitantly.

  "Yes—Pink Ranger, Cra, correct?" Dante acknowledged, turning his attention to her.

  "Is that… all?" Cra asked, her brow knit in confusion. "That's the technique?"

  Dante offered a slight smile. "No, it's not the entirety of it," he replied. "But if you can't achieve this foundational step, everything that follows will be useless."

  "How long do we have to learn this?" Kyle interjected bluntly, not bothering to raise his hand. His tone carried a mix of impatience and skepticism.

  "You have two weeks for this part," Dante answered calmly. "The next phase will also require two weeks."

  "Because of the field training?" Kyle pressed further.

  "Correct," Dante confirmed with a nod.

  "Sir," Damian spoke up, his gaze sharp and inquisitive, "could you share what our field training will entail?"

  Oliver gnced at Damian, noting the glint in his eyes. It was clear that Damian was already scheming, formuting pns and counterpns to ensure success.

  Dante pondered the question briefly, his fingers tapping lightly against his side. After a moment, he seemed to reach a decision. "I believe there's no harm in expining," he said with a slight shrug.

  He began to pace slowly at the front of the room. "Our intel from the Blue Division reported that they've intercepted a back channel communication from Great House Charon. In approximately one month, Charon pns to host an auction."

  An undercurrent of curiosity rippled through the group.

  "During this auction," Dante continued, "they intend to sell schematics for mechs—designs still in development and most likely from the 4th Gen."

  Oliver raised an eyebrow. "But what's the issue with them selling these schematics?" he asked. "Aren't such transactions common among the Houses?"

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "The problem," Dante said, his expression hardening, "is that we've received credible reports that the Lot pns to send agents to acquire these schematics."

  A murmur spread among the six.

  "Sir," the Yellow Ranger interjected, concern evident in her voice, "isn't it a bit early for us to partake in a mission as complex as this?"

  "No doubt," Dante acknowledged. "Which is why you won't be interfering with the auction itself."

  He stopped pacing and faced them directly. "Your mission is to infiltrate the event and maintain your disguises throughout the evening. This will be an exercise in applying the skills you've been learning—stealth, observation, Energy concealment."

  "Any information you gather about the Lot's activities or intentions will be considered a bonus," he added. "But the primary objective is to test your ability to operate undetected in a high-stakes environment."

  Understanding dawned on the faces of the Rangers. This was more than a training exercise—it was a real-world application of their abilities.

  "So it's a test run," Oliver said thoughtfully.

  "Exactly," Dante affirmed. "Consider it your 'test drive.' A chance to put theory into practice under controlled conditions."

  The Rangers nodded, signaling their understanding of the mission's intent.

  "Oh! I almost forgot," Dante added, his tone deceptively casual. "Our agents have been instructed to uncover your identities. If your disguises are compromised by them, it will count as a failure."

  ‘Damn it. I have a month to learn alongside them and still cover what I haven't mastered yet,’ Oliver thought, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest.

  During the remainder of the training session, Oliver repeatedly activated and deactivated his Ranger Armor, trying to synchronize it with the flow of his Energy. But the armor seemed to possess a will of its own, stubbornly resisting his attempts to influence it. It remained static, unyielding—a silent rebuke to his efforts.

  Hours passed as he persisted, the training hall emptying as the other Rangers departed one by one. Yet Oliver continued, determination etched into every line of his face. Only when his Energy reserves were utterly depleted did he finally concede defeat for the day. Exhausted, he made his way back to the lower levels of the fortress.

  Sleep offered little respite. His rest was restless, pgued by swirling doubts and the looming question of whether he could overcome his limitations. But time was a luxury he couldn't afford. As soon as he closed his eyes, it seemed, the harsh buzz of the morning arm jolted him awake, heralding another day.

  His routine became a relentless cycle: eat, climb the Silo, study, descend, eat, climb, train, descend. The monotony was both numbing and demanding. It wasn't until he stood before the immense staircase that he noticed something amiss.

  "What the hell is this?" Oliver excimed aloud, drawing curious gnces from nearby trainees. The steps before him were different—subtly altered in a way that made his stomach drop.

  "Ah! I didn't expin about this, did I?" Darius said, appearing at his side.

  "Of course not," Oliver replied tersely, frustration bubbling to the surface.

  "Well," Darius began, gazing up at the altered stairs, "this one's not so bad."

  "Are you kidding me? They've changed the stairs. They're snted at some ridiculous angle downward," Oliver pointed out. Each step was slightly steeper, the incline forcing more strain on the legs. It wasn't enough to cause a fall but sufficient to make the ascent notably more grueling.

  "Every now and then, they modify the stairs to up the challenge," Darius expined nonchantly. "For me, the worst was when they removed the steps entirely and left only ropes."

  Oliver shot him a disbelieving look, momentarily tempted to vent his frustration physically. Instead, he took a deep breath, pushing down the urge. "Great," he muttered. "Just what I needed."

  He resigned himself to the morning's torture, beginning the arduous climb. The modified stairs quickly sapped his strength, each step a testament to his waning patience.

  Despite the added difficulty, the days slipped into a routine. Yet with each sunrise, Oliver's apprehension grew. Five days had passed, and he still had nothing to show for his efforts. The pressure was mounting.

  On the sixth day, Oliver's nerves reached their breaking point. Alone in the Silent Chamber, desperation gnawed at him as he unleashed bursts of Energy in all directions. With each punch, shimmering psma shot out, illuminating the metallic walls. Each bst was a futile attempt to exhaust his frustrations, to breathe once more amidst the suffocating weight of his impending failure.

  Oliver had wrestled with this decision for days, a difficult choice he had long contempted but hoped to avoid. Now, cornered by his rivals' progression and the practice looming deadline, he saw no alternative.

  Staring intently at his hands, he thought, ‘I need to use [Insight] on the Armor.’

  Unease settled in his stomach. [Insight] was a god-like boon, but it came with significant risks. The more complex the target, the greater the potential for catastrophic results. He recalled the stark warnings, the ominous probabilities etched into his mind.

  | Insight - Failure Odds Table| Minor Brain Injury [10%]| Traumatic Brain Injury [30%]| 7 Days Coma [30%]| 30 Days Coma [20%]| Partial Memory Loss [9%]| Complete Memory Loss [1%]

  ‘It just can’t be a coma. It would mean the end of the mission for me.’ Oliver thought.

  The numbers loomed over him like specters, each percentage a stark reminder of what could go wrong. The possibility of severe consequences had kept him from using [Insight] on such an intricate device.

  But time was slipping away.

  Taking a deep breath, he steadied his racing heart.

  [Insight]

  GCLopes