Theo sat on the cold metal slab of Erasmus’ lab, legs swinging slightly as he watched the older man tweak the glowing ocular implant hovering in mid-air. The faint blue light reflected in Erasmus’ icy eyes, making him look even more like some kind of futuristic warlock than an engineer. The lab hummed with quiet energy, overhead lights casting stark white beams against sterile metallic surfaces.

  "You’re sure this thing won’t turn me into some kind of cyborg freak?" Theo asked, arms crossed.

  Erasmus sighed through his nose, the long-suffering kind of exhale that suggested he had already regretted letting Theo stay conscious for this. "Yes, Theo. That would require far more extensive augmentation, which—believe me—I’d love to do if only to cut down on your endless questions."

  Theo smirked. "You love my questions."

  Erasmus didn’t even look up. "Every question you ask shaves a decade off my lifespan."

  The implant was nearly ready. A sleek, compact design—more like an extension of the body than a foreign object. It pulsed faintly as Erasmus fine-tuned the final details. "Unlike clunky human cybernetics, Catalyx enhancements are seamless. No bolts, no wires, no unnecessary suffering—unless I decide otherwise. This isn’t some shoddy metal eye replacement. It’s an adaptive ocular enhancement, refined to integrate with your existing neural pathways. Your reflexes, your processing speed—it will keep up." He adjusted a few parameters, nodding to himself. "Your biology is slightly different from standard Catalyx, but there’s enough in you to support the technology."

  Theo eyed him, catching the slight tension in Erasmus’ usually cold demeanour. "Nervous?"

  Erasmus barely flicked a glance in his direction. "If I was, you’d already be unconscious."

  Theo rolled his shoulders. "I’d be lying if I said no. Having you poke around in my head isn’t exactly a spa treatment."

  Erasmus made a noncommittal noise and gestured toward the reclined chair in the centre of the lab. "Lie down. This will be uncomfortable."

  Theo climbed into the chair, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

  "Only the ones strapped to my lab chair," Erasmus muttered as he tapped the control panel. Mechanical arms whirred to life, descending toward Theo with precise, almost predatory grace.

  Then the pressure hit.

  "Shit—what the hell?!" Theo’s grip tightened on the chair as a sharp, stabbing force drilled behind his left eye. It was like something was forcing its way into his head, burrowing through nerves that had never been meant to accommodate anything extra. His breath hitched, every instinct screaming at him to rip it out.

  Erasmus barely glanced at him. "It’s phasing into your optic nerve and synchronizing with your neural responses. Slowing it down would only mean more suffering. Your choice."

  Theo clenched his jaw. "Just… get it over with please."

  The pressure built into something sharp, something deep. It wasn’t pain exactly—it was wrong. Like a limb growing where no limb should be, a sense that wasn’t supposed to exist forcing itself into reality. His vision blurred, black static creeping in at the edges, warping and flickering.

  Then—suddenly—everything snapped into place.

  The darkness receded. His vision sharpened.

  No—not just sharpened.

  The world around him was clearer. Not just brighter, but more defined. Tiny micro-movements flickered at the edges of his sight—subtle shifts in light, the mechanical hum of the lab thrumming in a way he could now see as much as hear. A faint grid-like overlay flickered before vanishing, mapping the space automatically.

  Theo turned his head slightly, and a thin, ghostlike line traced Erasmus’ projected movement before he even stepped forward.

  Theo exhaled sharply. "Mother of fuck. I’m officially a sci-fi protagonist now."

  Erasmus tapped a few more commands on the console, watching him very carefully. "You’re processing at an acceptable rate. Any nausea? Vertigo?"

  Theo shook his head instinctively—then froze as his vision lagged for a split second before catching up. "Whoa—okay, yeah, that was weird."

  "Your brain is adjusting to the input," Erasmus explained. "Give it a few hours, and it will feel natural. The implant predicts movement based on micro-expressions and visual cues. It won’t read minds, but it will anticipate patterns, allowing you to react before an attack lands. Night vision enhancement, motion tracking… a few extra features, depending on what I can patch in later."

  Theo flexed his fingers, watching his own tiny muscle twitches get mapped out in real time before he consciously moved them. His brain was working at the same speed as his body now—maybe even faster.

  "This is insane," he muttered. "So this is what it feels like to be you?"

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Erasmus smirked, arms crossed. "Hardly. But it’s a step up from your previous reaction speed, which was akin to a particularly excitable potato."

  Theo sat up, rubbing his temples. The sensation was still there—this new awareness, this extra layer of perception he wasn’t sure he liked yet. But it was working.

  "Alright," he said, shaking out his arms. "I think I’m good. So when’s the test run?"

  Erasmus’ smirk widened.

  "Tomorrow," he said, shutting down the console with a final tap.

  "Then we play."

  Theo stood in the centre of the darkened training chamber, heart hammering in anticipation. The room stretched out around him—vast, unpredictable, filled with shifting walls, raised platforms, and dim lighting that flickered sporadically, casting jagged shadows. It was the perfect hunting ground.

  For them.

  Erasmus' voice crackled through the speakers. "This time, the stealth units are adaptive. You’re no longer fighting pre-programmed drones. These are real combat AI, trained to hunt, predict, and eliminate targets."

  Theo cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders loose. “Oh, so we’re skipping the baby steps, huh?”

  "I don’t coddle lost causes," Erasmus replied dryly. "Survive for ten minutes. Bonus points if you actually take one down."

  A chime echoed through the chamber.

  Then—silence.

  Theo took a slow breath, and his new vision flickered to life. Shapes sharpened, movements ghosted in faint predictive lines before they even happened. The room was alive with subtle disturbances—air currents shifting, the minute sound of tension in the metal flooring. His brain wanted to overanalyse the flood of information, but his instincts—those, he trusted.

  There.

  A flicker in the shadows.

  Theo twisted just as the first attacker lunged. His arm shot up on instinct, intercepting a knife strike aimed at his ribs. The moment of impact triggered a kinetic surge in his mesh, fuelling his counter. He pivoted, driving an elbow into the figure’s torso with crushing force.

  The attacker staggered back—silent. No sharp breath, no wasted movement. It was eerie.

  Theo grinned, already adjusting. “Alright. This might actually be fun.”

  Then something slammed into his back.

  He barely had time to register the impact before he was sent sprawling. He hit the ground, but instead of bracing, he rolled with the momentum, coming up fast, eyes already scanning for the next attack.

  Erasmus' unimpressed voice filtered through the chamber. "You’ve clearly been watching too much anime if you think you can stop to quip after every strike you land. I’ve already warned you about that, Theo!"

  Theo clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to snap back. He was right. He’d been a dedicated fighter before the Exo-Genesis changed everything—before he’d been thrown into a world where his past experience wasn’t enough. He needed to reclaim the same hunger he had as a penniless, rising competitor.

  A warning flashed in his vision.

  Movement—right flank. Close.

  Theo saw it a fraction of a second before it happened—an overlay tracing the assassin’s descent from the ceiling rafters. His body reacted before his brain fully processed it, ducking and rolling forward just as a blade slashed through the space his neck had been.

  "Better," Erasmus noted, almost lazily. "But they’re not even using their full speed yet."

  Theo clenched his fists.

  At first, all he could do was survive.

  But as the minutes stretched, something changed.

  He was adapting.

  His vision tracked faster. His hands caught strikes before his brain even registered them. He weaved, twisted, redirected blows. His new perception wasn’t just helping him react—it was helping him pre-empt. His body felt like it was keeping up in a way it never had before.

  Another shadow moved. He knew this attack before it came—before the AI even executed it. Theo stepped into the strike instead of away, baiting the attack. The second the opponent overcommitted, he snapped his hands up, grabbing their wrist mid-motion.

  For the first time, he wasn’t just surviving.

  He was winning.

  The stored kinetic energy from earlier coiled within him, a reservoir of force just waiting to be released. Theo wrenched the attacker’s arm backward, twisting the limb at a brutal angle.

  No scream. No panic. The AI just disengaged and melted back into the darkness.

  Theo exhaled heavily, his pulse steady, his body alive in a way he hadn’t felt before.

  He scanned the room, his enhanced vision feeding him every flicker, every anomaly.

  He could beat them.

  For the first time since stepping into this place, he knew he could beat them.

  The lights flickered back to full brightness, revealing three disabled stealth units sprawled motionless across the training floor. Smoke curled from the shattered plating of one, its optics flickering weakly before going dark.

  Theo knelt on one knee, chest rising and falling in deep, measured breaths. Sweat dripped from his forehead, but a wide, exhilarated grin stretched across his face.

  Erasmus strolled into the room, hands tucked into his coat pockets. His gaze swept over the wreckage before settling on Theo, his expression unreadable.

  “Not terrible,” he admitted.

  Theo let out a breathless laugh. “You truly are an inspirational wordsmith.”

  Erasmus smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

  Theo pushed himself to his feet, rolling his neck as the lingering tension drained from his muscles. He could still feel the implant working, his mind adjusting to the flood of new information.

  But he had done it.

  Yesterday, these things had humiliated him. Had torn him apart without effort.

  Now? He had fought back.

  He turned to Erasmus, his grin widening. “So, what’s next?”

  Erasmus' smirk deepened, something almost amused flickering in his cold blue eyes.

  “Well, now it gets interesting.”