He disconnected, removed the new sensor, and murmured an arcane incantation—the same cryptic chant that had awakened the first sensor’s AI pilot.
Success.
A second consciousness flickered to life in his mindscape, joining the original as obedient code-blobs awaiting commands.
Retesting with the upgraded sensor, the training mech’s dash-punch-pivot sequence clocked ?1:11?—?8 seconds faster? than his old gear.
Better hardware = better performance.
He rifled through Schneider’s crate, selecting five additional Level 7-compatible sensors across brands. One hour of chanting later, five new AI pilots nested in his neural periphery.
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Trials revealed nuanced variations:
- ?Fastest?: 1:10 (new high-end model)
- ?Slowest?: 1:14 (budget unit)
The 5-second spread offered plausible deniability—no more machine-like consistency to raise eyebrows.
Satisfied, he strapped the fastest sensor and booted the combat simulator. The virtual arena now hosted attack/defense drills. A holographic instructor demonstrated grappling combos, which the sensor consciousness replicated flawlessly on first try.
Cheat code unlocked.
While normal trainees needed months to master duel protocols, Latham’s stolen AI absorbed entire fight libraries via 2x speed playback. By dawn, his sensor ghosts had memorized half the tactical database—lethal techniques Latham himself couldn’t name, yet could now execute on command.
The mech instructor bowed out, replaced by sparring drones. Latham hesitated, then selected "Drill Partner."
A crimson training mech materialized, launching textbook jabs. His sensor consciousness countered automatically—parry, sidestep, liver punch.
Clang.
The drone crumpled. Victory prompt blazing, Latham grinned.
Schneider’s "gift" just became an army.