The training chamber was now shrouded in darkness, save for the intermittent flashes of dim red lighting that pulsed along the walls. The shifting shadows warped the space in a way that made Theo’s skin crawl, his instincts screaming at him that something wasn’t right. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. This was going to be unlike any training he’d done before.

  Erasmus’ voice crackled through the overhead speakers, as smooth and clinical as ever. “This week’s lesson: Stealth combat. You already know how to take a hit and dish one out, but if you can’t see, or at least anticipate, the enemy before they see you, you’re already dead.”

  Theo cracked his knuckles, rolling his neck. “Alright, just tell me where I’m swinging.”

  A scoff. “That’s the point, Theo. You won’t know.”

  Theo blinked. “Wow. That was, uh… embarrassingly dumb. Can I take that one back?”

  A soft hum filled the chamber, and in an instant, the red lighting cut out entirely.

  Complete darkness.

  Theo tensed, his breathing steady but controlled. His heart pounded—not from fear, but anticipation. He had fought boxers, wrestlers, kickboxers—hell, he’d taken down three snipers a few days ago—but fighting something he couldn’t see? That was new.

  A whisper of movement behind him.

  Theo spun, throwing a backfist on instinct.

  Nothing. Just empty air.

  Then—another whisper, this time from his left. He pivoted, muscles coiling—

  CRACK.

  Something slammed into the back of his knee. His leg buckled, and he barely caught himself before hitting the ground.

  A soft chuckle echoed through the chamber.

  “Don’t just react, Theo. Predict. Use sound, vibrations, patterns—anything to anticipate an attack.”

  Theo clenched his jaw. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

  “Immensely,” Erasmus replied. “You rely on your eyes too much. A fatal flaw against someone who refuses to be seen.”

  Theo rolled his shoulders, loosening his muscles. He needed a new approach. If he couldn’t see them, then he had to use what he had.

  Sound. Air displacement. Instinct.

  He slowed his breathing, forcing his body into a relaxed stance. The room was silent except for the faint mechanical hum of the facility.

  Then—there. A shift in the air. The faintest disturbance to his right.

  Theo didn’t turn this time. He struck first, throwing out his elbow—

  It met nothing.

  Then a sharp impact drove into his ribs.

  He gasped, staggering, before another hit slammed into his shoulder, sending him reeling.

  This wasn’t a fight.

  This was a tutorial on how to get his ass handed to him.

  Every hit landed like a lesson in humility. Every move he made was countered before he even finished thinking about it. His instincts were failing him, his defenses crumbling. His breath came in ragged bursts as he fought to stay on his feet, but every motion was met with punishment. The heat within the suit was rising to drastic levels.

  The worst part? He didn’t even know where the attacks were coming from.

  His mesh flared, trying to compensate, but it couldn’t disperse the energy effectively—there was no output. He couldn’t even channel the kinetic buildup into movement because he couldn’t see where to move.

  The suit finally adjusted, shifting into a defensive protocol, thickening around his joints. Great, now he was even slower. Countless blows hammered into his body, dulled by the enhanced armor, but it wasn’t enough. The energy was going straight to reinforce the strength of his armour now, no chance of countering. He was a sitting duck.

  The assault didn’t stop until his knees buckled.

  The mesh recoiled back into the device on his back, leaving him completely defenseless. His body ached, his vision blurred. He lay there, sucking in breath after breath, frustration boiling beneath the pain.

  He hadn’t landed a single hit.

  Silence filled the room.

  Then, Erasmus exhaled over the speakers. His usual smugness was curiously absent.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Well… that was conclusive.”

  Theo groaned, rolling onto his side. “Oh yeah? What gave it away? The sound of my dignity shattering?”

  There was a pause. A pause.

  That was rare.

  Erasmus hummed in thought. “Hmm. It’s become clear that a basic human can’t keep up with stealth combatants. If you can’t track them, you can’t fight them. You have no extended perception, no system triggers for equalization… Hmm.”

  Theo let out a breathy laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Glad I could be your test dummy. Thank god you reached that conclusion now and not before I became one giant bruise.”

  Erasmus wasn’t listening. His muttering came through the speaker, his mind clearly spinning with possibilities. “An implant… something to enhance perception. Track motion, predict trajectories…”

  Theo frowned, wiping sweat from his brow as the silence stretched for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  “Uh… what now?”

  Erasmus didn’t answer immediately.

  Then, his voice came through—sharp. Decisive.

  “Get some rest, Theo. We’ll be making some upgrades.”

  “Table. Flat on your back. Shirt and trousers—off. And shut up before you even think about a joke. I can see it forming in your simple little head.” Erasmus strode into the lab with purpose, his attention already shifting toward his console.

  Theo groaned but did as he was told, peeling off his shirt and trousers before settling onto the cold metal table. The surface was smooth but utterly unforgiving, making his already aching body protest. He let out a slow breath, staring up at the sterile white ceiling.

  A mechanical arm descended from above, a soft blue light emanating from its tip as it scanned his battered form. Theo shuddered at the sensation—an odd mix of tingling warmth and deep, crawling pressure as the machine got to work repairing his bruises and internal damage. Electrical pulses and vibrating pads pressed against his skin, systematically numbing pain like some kind of high-tech divine intervention.

  Meanwhile, Erasmus was already fully engrossed in his console. Holographic schematics flickered in the air before him, a complex design forming piece by piece. His fingers moved with mechanical precision, adjusting parameters, running simulations, muttering under his breath like a man possessed.

  Theo tilted his head slightly, his voice laced with exhaustion. “So… what’s the grand plan, Doc?”

  “Neural integration… enhanced motion tracking… trajectory prediction overlay…” Erasmus murmured absently, barely acknowledging the question.

  Theo let his head fall back with a sigh. “I meant in coherent sentences, preferably.”

  Erasmus shot him a brief, unimpressed glance before returning to his work. “An implant, Theo. One that will allow you to track movement at a speed your body can actually respond to. Your eyes aren’t enough. This will be. It should also enhance your analysis based gifts.”

  Theo frowned. “You make it sound like I’m getting a new pair of eyes altogether.”

  “In a sense,” Erasmus replied, his tone clinical. “Your human perception is limited. Your brain still processes movement slower than what some opponents can achieve. Stealth combatants don’t just move quickly; they manipulate space and perception to their advantage. This implant will allow you to see patterns before they fully form. To counter before they strike.” He flicked through his resources, muttering. “Maybe a few other bits, depends how far I can stretch what I have to hand.”

  Theo exhaled sharply, the idea settling uncomfortably in his mind. “Sounds… invasive.”

  Erasmus smirked, eyes still locked on his designs. “It is. But so was that utter violation you just received.”

  Theo begrudgingly nodded in agreement.

  The healing process continued in silence, the lab humming softly with mechanical noises. Theo could already feel the soreness dulling, the deep aches retreating as the nanotech did its job.

  Then—without warning—a sharp beep cut through the stillness.

  Erasmus’ head snapped toward the main screen, his fingers pausing over the console. His gaze narrowed.

  Theo propped himself up on his elbows. “What now?”

  Erasmus didn’t answer immediately. His hands moved swiftly, pulling up external surveillance feeds. The screen flickered, revealing grainy footage of the landscape outside the lab.

  Silhouettes.

  Moving figures.

  Theo’s breath hitched slightly. They weren’t drones. They weren’t creatures.

  These were people.

  “Ah. The tutorials are over,” Erasmus muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “The survivors are back.”

  Theo sat up, his healing forgotten. His heart pounded—not from fear. Not from excitement. Something in between. “You mean… the ones who made it?”

  Erasmus didn’t look away from the screen. “The ones who survived.”

  Theo swallowed hard, watching the screen. For the first time since arriving in this place, it was as if he had a choice.

  He could leave. He could walk outside and throw himself into whatever civilization was beginning to take shape. Meet people. Live as a normal human. Find a place among them.

  But then he thought back to the fight. To how easily he’d been torn apart.

  If he left now, he’d just be another fighter scrambling for survival. At best, a stepping stone for someone stronger.

  He wasn’t ready.

  His gaze shifted to Erasmus, who was still analyzing the feed, his mind likely already working on contingencies.

  “I’m staying, if you were wondering,” Theo said firmly.

  Erasmus finally looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? I thought you were eager to prove yourself to the world.”

  “I will,” Theo replied, swinging his legs off the table. “But not yet.” He met Erasmus’ gaze, his gut hardening with determination. “I got wrecked tonight. I’m not going out there until I’m the one doing the wrecking.”

  A smirk played at the corner of Erasmus’ lips. “Smart choice.”

  He turned back to the console, hands moving once more, adjusting the implant schematics.

  “Then let’s make sure you leave here more than human.”