Blake stared at the muted silver cube-in-a-cube rotating in his mind. Weeks of practice had yielded this—a strange nested geometric shape that refused to stay put.

  A tesseract? Is that what it's called?

  As if on cue, the tesseract wobbled and deformed when he lost concentration, edges blurring like a watercolor painting. He let the image go.

  "Again," he muttered to the empty room.

  Sunrise painted the room in copper tones. He'd claimed the processing plant where Mara had planned her rebellion when the constant clamor of ship repairs forced him to find temporary shelter. The barren space offered little comfort but plenty of privacy. Perfect for a man obsessed with mental geometry.

  The tesseract formed in his mind's eye once more, angles snapping to perfect ninety degrees. Blake held it steady, counting seconds.

  One thousand one. One thousand two. One thousand…

  A flicker of thought interrupted his counting before long—I bet even Kitt is bored of watching this—and the cube rippled, one face collapsing inward.

  "Shit."

  "That was seventeen seconds," Kitt's voice hummed through their bond. "Three seconds better than yesterday."

  Blake grunted. "Not good enough."

  "The texts Eland & Zephyr provided suggest most beginners need six months to hold a stable visualization for ten seconds."

  Blake rolled his shoulders and sat straighter on the floor mat. "Most beginners don't have you rewiring their brains."

  "True. My enhancements provided a damned fine foundation. But the mental cultivation itself? That's all you, squishy."

  A month ago, when the System had announced the awakening of his [Nascent Quicksilver Mind], Blake had expected... something. A rush of power, heightened awareness, anything. Instead, he got homework—endless mental exercises that Eland insisted were "building the neural pathways necessary for advanced techniques."

  Practical applications remained frustratingly limited. So far, he could visualize simple shapes for short periods. Nothing that helped in a firefight or getting them off this rock.

  "What are you thinking about?" Kitt asked.

  "That this better pay off eventually."

  "It will. Eland says your progress is remarkable for someone who—"

  "—who comes from a primitive backwater planet with no established cultivation tradition," Blake finished. "Yeah, I've heard that song."

  "I was going to say 'someone who didn't start until their forties,' but sure, be grumpy about it."

  Blake closed his eyes again, reforming the cube. This time, he added rotation—clockwise, one quarter turn per second.

  The cube spun smoothly for eight seconds before warping.

  "Progress," Kitt said.

  "Barely." Blake stood, joints popping. "Where's Eland?"

  "Eastern Nahren. Something about setting up some more 'hands-on' training for you."

  Blake sat up straighter at that. He had spent weeks with his only guidance on strengthening his supposed new "mental powers" being to work on these stupid Visualization exercises.

  "Let's go find him. I want to hear about this."

  "You're not satisfied with building your foundation? Eland will be disappointed."

  Blake grabbed Verdict from the table, checking its action. "Foundations are great. But I need to get up and move every now and then, you know?"

  The harsh morning light of Nehren's alien sun cut across the impromptu arena, casting long shadows from the surrounding heaps of salvage. Thirty feet of packed earth surrounded him, an uneven colosseum of twisted scrap metal with makeshift bleachers where a dozen scavengers perched to watch the show.

  More importantly, Eland was waiting for him, along with three Skaeldrin warriors Blake recognized as among the elites of the rebellion. The entire thing reeked of a set up, and Blake found himself certain that Eland, Zephyr and Kitt had conspired to bring him here.

  "Alright, hoss," he said, shielding his eyes to look up at Eland where he sat perched on… Well, it was basically a ladder with a chair mounted to the top. It reminded Blake of the elevated chairs used by officials in tennis matches, only with the typical scavenger design sensibility. "You guys got me here, what's the play?"

  "Sparring!" Eland's voice carried across the arena from his perch. "I know you're a 'learn by doing sort' so I talked to Korrn and brought some help. As I've said repeatedly at this point, mental cultivation begins with visualization—the ability to conceive and project your intent beyond physical limits. Today, you'll practice combining visualization with your existing skills—by facing skilled opponents without being allowed to touch them physically."

  Blake understood then. While he had been cooped up playing with his mental K'nex set, trying to master Eland's strange exercises, he had been neglecting the other change brought on by his mental awakening.

  [ Sufficient synergy with Mental Cultivation detected. ]

  [ Force Manipulation can be evolved into Telekinesis. ]

  [ Proceed? ]

  He had checked the description on Telekinesis and liked what he found.

  [ Telekinesis: Evolved Force Manipulation. Control objects with your Intent, gaining tactile feedback via a synergy with [Aura of Detection]Focus

  Eland had outdone himself, Blake had to admit. His plan was certainly novel, and even if it ended with Blake bleeding on the ground it was likely to lead to some real progress. A good fight did always seem to shake the cobwebs loose.

  Three competent killers and I'm supposed to fight them with my imagination. Fun.

  Blake sized up his opponents. The Skaeldrin formed a perfect triangle around him, each positioned fifteen feet away—close enough to strike, far enough to react. Korra stood to his right, rust-colored markings rippling across her skin as she twirled twin metal batons with fluid precision. Grim loomed to his left, a mountain of ash-gray muscle gripping a sledgehammer that would've broken a normal human's wrists. Directly ahead was Jaxx, sand-colored geometric patterns etched across his lanky frame, a length of chain with weighted ends dangling from his fingers.

  "Alright," Blake said, smiling. "This will be great. Thanks for the help, guys."

  Kitt offered silently.

  "This is all mostly about your Intent," Eland continued. "Offensively, you've got Telekinesis and projected Intent—mental disruption to break concentration. Beyond that, your Quicksilver Mind offers enhanced Awareness that scales with mana and focus spent, so leverage that. Begin with simple applications—imagine pushing, grabbing, deflecting objects within your immediate space."

  Blake centered himself, drawing a thin stream of mana into his mental foundation. A familiar warmth spread through his consciousness as his eyes flashed gold—[Warden's Insight] activating in tandem with his OODA-enhanced Awareness.

  The world slowed.

  Details sharpened with crystalline clarity. Hairline stress fractures spiderwebbed across Grim's hammer handle. Korra favored her left foot—a recent injury, still healing. Microscopic wear patterns on Jaxx's chain revealed his preferred attack angles. Blake's mind processed distances, angles, and probabilities with algorithmic precision.

  Jaxx moved first. The chain whipped outward in a wide horizontal arc—a test, not a commitment.

  Blake watched its trajectory unfold in what felt like half-speed. His enhanced perception tracked the chain's path as it cut through the air. He focused on the section nearest to him and visualized a deflection—a simple sideways push.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  The chain's path wavered slightly at his point of focus. Not much, just enough to miss him by inches.

  Distance matters. The closer to me, the easier to affect. Need to keep them at optimal range.

  Korra seized the opening, darting forward with both batons twirling. Her movements were economical, precise—no wasted energy. As she entered his near-field space, Blake attempted his first mental jab—a tight, concentrated spike of Intent aimed directly at her temple.

  In his mind's eye, he saw a golden needle of pressure, paper-thin but intensely focused, projecting from his consciousness to hers.

  Korra flinched visibly. Her eyes widened in pain and surprise as the mental strike hit home. Her attack rhythm broke—one baton missed completely while the other connected weakly with Blake's shoulder.

  Blake immediately followed with Unfettered Stride, creating distance as his enhanced awareness identified the optimal escape vector.

  "Excellent!" Eland called from his perch. "You're making good use of the enhanced Awareness and Adaptability offered by your Mind."Grim charged forward, hammer raised high, cutting off Blake's movement options. Blake poured more mana into his mental foundation, triggering a deeper level of perceptual enhancement.

  Time crawled. Blake perceived minute muscle twitches telegraphing Grim's intended path. Individual dust particles disturbed by the Skaeldrin's footfalls hung suspended in the air. Blake calculated momentum and trajectory with machine-like precision.

  He attempted telekinetic manipulation at medium range, visualizing a disruption in the ground beneath Grim's next step—a localized disturbance in the packed earth.

  The effect was subtle but noticeable—a small eruption of dirt and metal shavings that cost Blake significant mana but disrupted Grim's footing just enough to throw off his timing.

  Too much mana for too little effect at that distance. Need to work closer or be more precise.

  Jaxx's chain whipped around in a complex pattern, attempting to corral Blake toward Korra's position. Instead of trying to manipulate the distant chain, Blake executed a perfect feint—visualizing himself moving left while actually pivoting right.

  He projected a convincing mental image of his intended movement, overlaying it onto his opponents' perception like a hologram.

  Jaxx adjusted his chain trajectory to intercept Blake's illusory movement, leaving an opening that Blake exploited with Unfettered Stride.

  Korra recovered from the mental jab faster than expected, intercepting Blake's new position with impressive speed, batons already in motion. As she entered his immediate space, Blake attempted a more complex close-range telekinetic application—an invisible barrier between her batons and his body.

  He imagined his hands physically catching the batons, but extended this tactile sensation beyond his actual reach.

  The batons slowed fractionally on impact, as if passing through resistance. Not enough to stop them, but enough to reduce their force significantly.

  Close range—almost like an extension of my own hands. Easier, more natural.

  Korra rushed forward, switching tactics. Her batons dropped to a lower stance as she aimed for Blake's midsection. Blake divided his focus—a spike of Intent toward her temple while visualizing an invisible hand shoving against her leading arm. The dual attack drained his mana reserves faster than expected.

  Korra's eyes narrowed in pain, but she pushed through the mental jab with practiced resilience. Her arm, however, jerked sideways as if struck by an unseen force. The baton slid past Blake's ribs, missing by inches.

  "Good work!" Eland called from his perch. "That's it, keep the use of your telekinesis subtle, conserve your resources."

  Blake backed away, creating space to reassess. Sweat trickled down his neck as he monitored his rapidly depleting mana. The three Skaeldrin circled him with practiced precision, their movements synchronized through subtle eye contact and barely perceptible nods.

  Jaxx flicked his wrist, the chain whistling through the air in figure-eight patterns. "Getting tired already, offworlder?"

  "Just warming up," Blake lied. His reserves had dropped below thirty percent if his gut was right. He could check, but he was really trying to grasp his limits internally without becoming reliant on information from Kitt or Demiurge.

  Grim and Jaxx exchanged a quick glance. Blake caught the minuscule head tilt between them—a signal. They broke formation simultaneously, approaching from opposite sides while Korra maintained pressure from the front.

  They've done this before. Standard pincer.

  Blake poured his remaining mana into his mental foundation. The world slowed to a crawl.

  His perception expanded beyond normal limits, integrating data streams from multiple senses. The arena transformed into a tactical overlay of vectors, probabilities, and patterns. Dust particles hung suspended in the air. Sound waves stretched into visible ripples.

  He noticed everything. The worn patch of earth where they'd practiced this maneuver countless times. The slight callus pattern on Jaxx's fingers revealing his chain-fighting style. Grim's subtle weight shift telegraphing a diagonal strike rather than the overhead blow his stance suggested. Korra's almost imperceptible adjustment in foot placement—preparing to exploit the gap they expected to create.

  Blake analyzed seven potential counters in the span of a heartbeat, assigning success probabilities to each. Three possible escape vectors presented themselves, each with calculated risk factors. But Blake wasn't planning on escape.

  Option four.

  He projected a mental feint—a convincing visualization of himself preparing to roll between Grim and Jaxx. The image flashed outward, a momentary illusion that both opponents registered subconsciously.

  They adjusted—minimal movements, just microsecond changes in trajectory to intercept where they thought he would be. Blake exploited the brief hesitation with Unfettered Stride, stepping directly into Grim's space rather than away.

  The hammer whooshed overhead as Blake slipped inside its arc. At this range—mere inches from Grim's body—Blake's telekinetic ability functioned at maximum efficiency. He visualized pushing Grim's left shoulder with precise timing and direction—not a forceful shove but a surgeon's touch.

  Grim stumbled sideways, his massive frame colliding with Jaxx's approach. Their coordinated rhythm fractured as Blake pivoted away from the tangle of limbs.

  "Brilliant work!" Eland shouted. "Keep on that track! Use your mind as an extension of your body!"

  Blake had no time to appreciate the praise. Korra had already adapted, cutting off his escape with blurring speed. Her batons whipped toward his knees in a low sweep.

  He attempted another mental jab, but his mana reserves flickered dangerously low. The attack fizzled before reaching her.

  Out of juice.

  Blake shifted to pure physical evasion, leaping over the sweep. His body responded with fluid precision—the result of decades of combat training now enhanced by the System's optimization.

  Korra smiled. "Got you."

  Too late, Blake realized his mistake. The sweep had been another feint. As he jumped, Jaxx's chain snaked around his ankle from behind, yanking him off-balance.

  Blake crashed to the ground, metal shavings biting into his palms. Grim loomed above, hammer raised.

  One shot left.

  With his final wisp of mana, Blake didn't attack—he observed. Warden's Insight flared one last time, revealing once more the subtle stress fractures in Grim's hammer handle. His Quicksilver mind proved its worth, sorting through the sea of information that his ability was picking up and giving him what he needed at nearly the same speed that he realized he needed it.

  Microscopic faults ran through the metal where repeated impacts had weakened the structure, and Blake's combined abilities showed him the precise point he would have to hit for maximum effect.

  As the hammer descended, Blake rolled and kicked upward—not at Grim, but at that magic spot on the hammer's handle.

  The hammer shattered. The heavy head was propelled back toward Grim's face while Blake completed his attack, springing to his feet. Grim, for his part, caught the hammerhead inches from his nose, his reflexes surprisingly quick for his size. He stared at Blake with newfound respect.

  "And that's the match!" Eland called, smirking at Blake. "Great work you three, Blake needed that humbling."

  Blake stood in the center of the arena, chest heaving. Eland wasn't wrong, the trio of scavengers had won this round. His mana core felt hollow, completely drained. But something else had changed—a subtle shift in his awareness that lingered even after Warden's Insight faded.

  The three Skaeldrin approached, no longer in combat stances.

  "Not bad," Korra admitted. "For a first attempt."

  "You broke my hammer," Grim rumbled, but without anger. He examined the splintered handle with professional interest.

  "Tcht," Jaxx sucked at his teeth as he coiled his chain. "Are you kidding, big guy? That was three on one. I'd be anything but humble if I was in his condition."

  The four of them spoke politely for a few minutes while Eland climbed down from his perch. Eventually, after agreeing to meet again for another spar when they could, the three Skaeldren left and Eland sidled up to Blake.

  "So… What did we learn today?"

  "He learned he can actually lose a fight on this planet!" Kitt offered helpfully, breaking her silence.

  "Distance matters," Blake said, brushing metal shavings from his hands and giving Kitt a mental shove. "Close range is exponentially more effective than medium range. And..." He paused, searching for words to describe the strange new awareness lingering at the edges of his perception. "I think I've opened something. A door that won't fully close."

  "Excellent!" Eland clapped his massive hands together. "Your first breakthrough in mental cultivation—my master called it the Persistent Echo."

  "Sounds fancy," Blake said, smiling up at the oversized scholar. "But what's it mean?"

  "Your mind has tasted expanded awareness and will never quite forget it. With practice, you'll more easily access whatever expanded state that triggered the sensation, and without draining your reserves so quickly."

  "Now," Eland draped a large arm over Blake's shoulders and turned him in the direction of the exit. "I need you to tell me everything you experienced. In detail. Your mental feints in particular looked quite effective, especially given your difficulty with maintaining complex visualizations…"

  Eland kept talking, and Blake listened with one ear, but his true focus was on that peculiar feeling in the back of his skull that he had described to Eland. He examined the feeling again in the context of Eland's explanation. Blake liked it.

  He wanted more.