The dull thud of projectiles hitting the ground echoed through the air as Wang moved fluidly, his sword flashing in precise arcs.

The circle beneath his feet, barely a meter wide, remained untouched as his body shifted and twisted with controlled precision.

"Faster," Wang said, his voice calm but firm.

Mei nodded, her sharp eyes locked on him as she manipulated the EM waves around a set of blunt-tipped bullets, accelerating them in a circular motion before releasing them. Nearby, Nikolai stood focused, adjusting the timing and angles of his own bullets.

"Ready," Mei called.

"Send them," Wang replied, his grip on the sword tightening.

The bullets whirred through the air, their speeds deliberately limited—far below their true potential. But even at these reduced velocities, Wang was forced to react quickly. His sword flashed, deflecting each bullet with precise, angled strikes that sent them harmlessly off course. One zipped dangerously close to his head, but a subtle tilt of his body allowed it to pass without his feet leaving the circle.

"Good. Keep it coming," Wang said, his breath steady despite the strain.

"You're nearing the limit of control with this speed," Nikolai remarked, his tone neutral but tinged with respect.

"Push it further," Wang insisted.

Mei and Nikolai exchanged a glance but complied.

The next wave of bullets came faster, as the EM-induced acceleration intensified. Wang's blade moved faster, the arcs sharper and his reactions more refined. Still, the increased speed tested his limits—his sword deflected most, but one grazed his waist, and another barely missed his side.

"Captain, this is overdoing it," Mei said, her voice laced with concern.

"I'm not," Wang replied quietly, his voice steady. "Again."

The bullets shot forward.

His sword flicked left, then right, the sound of steel cutting through air. Each deflection sent the bullets spiraling away, but the strain in his movements was beginning to show. His muscles burned, his reflexes stretched thin. Yet, his feet remained firmly planted within the circle, his focus unbroken.

One bullet slipped past his guard after a poor deflection, grazing his cheek with a shallow cut. Blood welled up, a thin red line marring his otherwise stoic face. He didn't flinch. Instead, he tightened his grip on the sword and said, "More. Make them erratic."

Mei hesitated for a split second before nodding. Nikolai, too, adjusted his wave patterns, making the bullets curve unpredictably before release.

The projectiles came in rapid succession now, their aim less controlled and more scattered. Wang's blade deflected most, but his body struggled to keep up with the relentless onslaught. A bullet struck his armor with a sharp thud, followed by another hitting his shoulder. Though the armor protected him, each impact sent a jolt through his body, pushing his endurance to its limits.

"Harder," Wang barked, his tone resolute, almost defiant. "Chen Hao, join them."

Chen Hao, a wiry man with steady hands and sharp reflexes, stepped forward. He exchanged a glance with Mei and Nikolai, then joined the assault. Now three were manipulating bullets, their combined efforts overwhelming.

Wang's sword flashed faster than ever, his movements a blur of precision and effort. But the hits began to accumulate. His armor absorbed the brunt of the impacts, but each strike added to the growing strain on his body. Still, he held his ground, refusing to step outside the circle.

The tension in the air was thick as the three coordinated, sending bullets at precise intervals, varying speeds, and unpredictable trajectories.

Wang's focus sharpened, his waves tracking all the incoming projectiles, but even his enhanced reflexes weren't enough to intercept them all.

Then it happened.

The three bullets, all aimed at his head.

The others gasped in shock at the mistake, their breaths caught as they realized the danger. But Wang's waves screamed, the signals flooding his mind in an instant. He tilted his head aiming to dodge the first, his sword snapping up to deflect the second, the impact jarring his arm.

But the third…

His body was too slow. He saw it coming, knew the trajectory, but no matter how fast his mind processed it, his muscles couldn't catch up. The bullet was too close.

His teeth clenched as he forced every ounce of energy into his waves, trying to push his body into action. His mind burned with desperation as he screamed inwardly, demanding more from himself.

And then, a flash—a memory. His little sister's smile, bright and innocent, cutting through the haze of panic.

He…

I grip the hilts of both swords tightly, one in each hand, feeling the weight pull against me.

It's strange—unnatural, almost—as if my body isn't sure how to balance itself. With one sword, my movements are instinctive, fluid. With two? It feels like trying to write with both hands at once, neither quite knowing what to do.

I take a deep breath and step into the stance Darius showed me. My right blade raises high, angled for a strike, while the left stays low, ready to block or parry. The balance feels awkward at first, like my arms are competing for dominance instead of working together.

I start slow, moving through the motions. A downward slash with my right, followed by a sweep with my left. My legs shift to keep my center steady, the muscles in my core tightening as I force my body to adjust to the unusual distribution.

The strikes are clumsy at first. The left sword lags, dragging behind like a stubborn child being pulled along. The timing is off, my coordination barely holding. But I keep going, the repetition burning the movements into my muscles.

After several minutes, I notice progress—my arms are starting to sync. The left doesn't feel as foreign now, its movements beginning to mirror the rhythm of the right. It's still slower, still weaker, but there's a connection forming, like my body is learning a new language, even though I know it's Houston accelerating the creation of muscle memory.

I swing both swords in a wide arc, the blades cutting through the air in unison. The sound is satisfying, a clean slice that tells me I'm improving. Not there yet, but better.

I pause for a moment, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension. Dual-wielding is taxing, far more than single-blade combat. The strain on my back, arms, and even my legs is noticeable.

But there's potential here. I can feel it. The ability to attack and defend simultaneously, to cover angles I couldn't with one sword—it's undeniable. The left blade is still slower, less precise, but it's there, and that's a start.

"It's ready," I hear Houston's voice in my head.

I chuckle. "Didn't you say you'd have it ready in a couple of hours? It's been what, half a day? A bit more?"

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"Ungrateful brat," he grumbles. "You did nothing while Chiara and I did all the work, and now you're complaining? If I weren't stuck in your head—"

"Thanks, Houston. Let's give it a go," I say, cutting off his rant with a laugh.

I hear him sigh, the sound exaggerated. "Slavery… pure slavery. Anyway, it's running… now."

I feel it instantly. The change.

It's like the rush of clarity after absorbing an orb. My mind sharpens. My waves surge with newfound strength, their reach and precision expanding in ways I hadn't expected. My perception of the surroundings becomes sharper, more layered, as if I'm seeing the world from a higher vantage point.

But it's not Overdrive. Not even close.

Overdrive is primal—a flood of raw instincts and heightened senses, an edge born of desperation. This is different. It's like clearing out the clutter in my mind. Thoughts flow smoother, connections forming faster. There's no rush, no frenzy—just clarity. Even the weight of decision-making feels lighter, more deliberate.

"Damn," I mutter, flexing my fingers and feeling the waves ripple faintly. "This is…"

"Perfect," Houston says smugly, cutting in. "You're welcome."

"I mean, it's not just the waves being stronger; it's so much more. I feel like my calculation capability and even my wave control has improved significantly. I can think faster, and problems just… click into place. This… damn. That Chiara is a genius."

"Hey!" Houston's voice cuts in, indignant. "Where's my credit? Do you know how hard it was to get this simplified version to work with our unique condition? And let's not even talk about the countless simulations, trials, and errors I had to run to ensure it could function perfectly alongside extreme levels of Overdrive."

"Oh, right, all hail the mighty Houston," I say with a grin.

"Truly ungrateful," he mutters, but I can hear the faint satisfaction in his tone.

I use my waves to map the surroundings, feeling more attuned to every detail. The small cracks in the rocks, the precise flow of each drop of water in the waterfall, the delicate texture of a blade of grass. It's mesmerizing.

"Alright. Let's see what happens."

I push forward, and Overdrive surges to its full-state. And then…

The collision of both states hits me like a tidal wave. It's overwhelming at first, my senses flaring and my mind racing to keep up. Every sound, every flicker of motion in the environment is magnified, sharper and more vivid than ever before. My heart pounds as my perception expands, layering raw instinct with an almost mechanical clarity.

It's… incredible.

I can feel my body primed for action, the raw power of Overdrive fueling my reflexes, while the new mechanism keeps my thoughts cool and deliberate. It's like having two minds—one wild, reactive, ready to fight, and another precise, calculated, processing everything in real time.

"Holy… shit," I say aloud.

The mental clarity I have feels as though I'm at much lower levels of Overdrive. My thoughts remain rational, calculated. Yet, at the same time, I can feel the unmistakable surge of power coursing through me—Overdrive at its peak. My reflexes are far beyond normal, the heightened speed and intensity leaving no doubt that I'm undeniably at full-state.

I focus on my leg armor and gauntlets, channeling all my waves, and with a single thought, I propel myself upward. The sensation is immediate—effortless, as if gravity itself loosens its grip. I rise higher with ease, my body light, untethered. But it's not just the lift—it's the acceleration.

I feel the force building, the speed increasing with every passing second. The numbers flash in my mind: 3.13 m/s²—nearly a third of Earth's gravity, but in reverse. That means I can now generate a force capable of accelerating my body to nearly 13 m/s using waves alone!

A grin spreads across my face as I push harder, letting the waves flow freely. The rush of wind against my body grows louder, sharper. I lean forward slightly, shifting my balance, and the acceleration responds instantly. Faster. Smoother.

Without hesitation, I tilt my body and dive forward, slicing through the air with ease.

The ground blurs below me, but my mind is calm, clear, aware of every detail. I can sense the ripple of leaves in the trees far below, the subtle movement of water in a distant stream, the faint shift in the air pressure around me.

Laughter escapes me, unbidden, as I twist mid-flight, spinning in an elegant roll before shooting upward again.

I feel free—like nothing could touch me. I spiral, banking hard to the right, then pull into a sharp climb. The sheer feeling of it all, the control, the speed—it's intoxicating.

With one final burst of speed, I slow and hover for a moment, gazing down at the world far below. The clarity in my mind, the harmony in my movements—it all feels surreal, almost too good to be true.

I descend slowly, adjusting my waves with precision, the ground rushing up to meet me. Landing softly where I started, I let the energy flow fade.

I stare at it in disbelief, then glance down at my hands. This power… this feeling…

"Well, that certainly exceeded my—I mean, just as expected. I did a good job, didn't I?" Houston says, his voice growing cocky by the end.

"This synergy… is it really just a 24% increase?"

"In output, yes. Actually, right now, it's just 21%. I still need to refine the mechanism a bit more to reach the expected 24%, which is the theoretical limit for our current Stage Progress. But the results? What Chiara accomplished by stimulating the Pillar seems to have ramifications far beyond simple wave amplification. I will need to do more research on it as I go through her notes. And Overdrive? Well, it complements this mode almost too perfectly.

"Your heightened perception of your surroundings, the accelerated speed of your thoughts, the seamless combination of precise wave control with pure, raw wave output—it's… something else."

Indeed.

"So, can I keep it active at all times? Does it consume additional energy or cause headaches like Overdrive?"

"Well, that's the beauty of it," Houston replies. "Practically no energy is consumed. It works by controlling very small amplitude waves, forming a complex set of internally stabilized static nodes to induce the state. And as for keeping it active at all times—yes, there's no need to deactivate it, not even during sleep.

"Furthermore, since the Pillar is the origin of Darius, myself, and the VR world, being in this state also enhances us in the same way it does for you. Our thoughts are clearer, my computational capabilities are sharper, and even the VR world can be tuned to be more realistic. It's truly a game changer."

I nod, letting the implications settle.

"So, you've changed the portraits in your dummy targets already?" I grin.

"Well, it would be a shame since I'm already used to them," he chuckles. "And she'll never know. That said," his tone shifts, "I do think it's wise—now that you're on friendly terms with her and all that—to actively engage her on this topic. Her mind is definitely one of the strongest assets we have right now. It'd be a waste not to take full advantage of that."

"Hmm… do you want me to introduce you to Chiara?"

There's a pause. A long one.

"What?! Absolutely not. Are you out of your mind?! No!" he snaps. "You're free to tell her or anyone else about your condition—that's your choice—but I will not engage in conversation with another entity. Not her, not anyone. For the outside world, there is no Houston or Darius. Just Alonso.

"As for questions for Chiara? That's fine. I'll prepare them, and you can just say what I tell you. Don't be lazy. It's bad enough you've stopped doing research and dumped it all on me."

I shake my head. Fair enough.

"Alright, enough dangling around. I'm already breaking my rule by talking to you outside of the VR," Houston grumbles. "Anyway, the experiment worked. I'll see you tomorrow morning when you come in."

"Okay. And… thanks, Houston."

There's a brief pause before his voice comes through again. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get sentimental on me."

A faint chuckle escapes me. Same old Houston.

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