In the quiet hours of the night, Albert Jr Faustin sat there on his bed— his bags all packed and ready to go home, his body ached— a testament of the battle his been through the previous evening.
Strength without mastery is meaningless, he thought bitterly, clenching his fists until his knuckles whitened. It wasn't the loss he dreaded—it was that he'd been outclassed. In that moment, he felt both invincible and hopelessly inadequate.
The journey back to EvoTech Tower was a blur of darkened skies and silent thoughts. The transport pod's gentle hum provided little comfort against the tumult raging in Albert's mind. His reflections on the day's battle were unrelenting. He recalled each moment—Kara's swift, confident strikes; his own desperate, nearly reckless attempts to counter her; the sudden surge of his Binding that had nearly tipped the scales, only to be snuffed out by his lack of finesse.
He knew that raw power, as prodigious as it was, was useless without the discipline to harness it. And the assignment of Professor Calen Rhyd was both an honor and a stark reminder of his deficiencies.
At last, the pod touched down at the familiar docking bay of EvoTech Tower. The massive structure, a testament to his father's legacy, loomed large as he stepped out into the cool night air. Its polished surfaces and sharp lines were a constant reminder of the expectations placed upon him—a burden he bore silently.
Inside the tower, the atmosphere was cool and clinical—a stark contrast to the chaos of the day. Albert made his way through the corridors, his steps measured and his expression unreadable. When he reached his private quarters on the 112th floor, he paused before the door, steeling himself.
The door slid open with a soft pneumatic hiss, and there she was.
Liana Vey stood in the doorway, her presence a quiet constant in his life. Her chestnut braid framed her face, and her hazel eyes, though usually full of warmth, held a note of concern tonight.
"Albert," she said simply, stepping forward. "You're back."
He regarded her coolly. "Yes."
Liana's gaze dropped to his injured arm, and without a word, she stepped closer. "You've been in a fight. I've heard the reports."
Albert's expression remained stoic. "I did what was necessary."
"Clearly, you need treatment," Liana replied, her tone gentle but insistent. "Come with me."
He followed her to his recovery room—a space outfitted with the latest in quantum medical technology. The room was dim, illuminated by soft blue lights that lent it a serene quality. Liana pulled out a container of cooling gel from a neatly arranged med-kit.
"Take off your jacket," she ordered, her voice lacking any pretense.
Albert complied, the act mechanical. As he removed his jacket and shirt, the extent of his injuries became apparent—faint bruises and minor abrasions marked his skin. Liana's eyes softened, but she said nothing as she knelt beside him.
She began applying the gel to his arm with practiced efficiency. The cold, soothing sensation helped dull the persistent ache.
"You're always so stubborn, Albert," she murmured, though there was an underlying tenderness in her tone.
He looked away, not meeting her gaze. "I can handle it."
Liana's hands paused momentarily as she reached for additional supplies. In that fleeting second, as she leaned in to adjust the placement of the cooling gel, Albert's hand shifted unexpectedly. His fingers brushed against the fabric of her blouse—soft, unintentional.
Time seemed to suspend.
For a heartbeat, neither spoke. Liana's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. Instinctively, she jerked away, knocking over a small container in the process.
"I—I'm sorry," Albert stammered, retracting his hand as if burned. His voice was low and filled with abrupt embarrassment, a rare crack in his otherwise steely demeanor.
Liana's face turned an even deeper red. "Just… ignore it," she managed, her tone clipped. "I need to check something in the cabinet."
Before Albert could protest or explain, she swiftly left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Albert sat silently for a long moment, staring at his hand, then up at the ceiling. The awkwardness of the accidental touch festered in his thoughts, but it also felt strangely… significant. It was a reminder that even in the midst of chaos and discipline, there were unpredictable, human moments—moments that could unbalance the most carefully maintained composure.
He exhaled slowly. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
Later that night, as the ambient lights of his room cast gentle shadows over the sleek surfaces, Albert lay on his bed, eyes open in restless contemplation. His mind drifted back to the fight at the Veil, the bitter taste of defeat, and the unyielding reality that he was far from perfect. The assignment of Professor Calen Rhyds loomed large—a promise of rigorous training and a future where he might finally learn to harness his immense power.
But as he replayed the day's events, another thought surfaced—one he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge. The fleeting, awkward moment with Liana. It wasn't just discomfort. There was something in her reaction—a blush, a hesitation—that hinted at emotions too complicated to ignore.
Albert's heart, normally encased in a shield of detachment, stirred imperceptibly. Yet, he quickly pushed the thought aside. There was no time for such distractions. He had to focus on mastering his strength, on turning raw power into lethal precision.
Tomorrow, he would begin training under Professor Calen Rhyd. Until then, he would rest and reflect.
In the quiet solitude of his room, with the distant hum of EvoTech Tower echoing through the corridors, Albert vowed silently:
I will become more than a vessel of raw strength. I will learn to command my power—no matter what it takes.
And with that resolve, he closed his eyes, letting the darkness of sleep overtake him. The night was long, and the path ahead uncertain, but for the first time in days, amidst the pain and the awkwardness, he felt a spark of determination.
Tomorrow would be the beginning of his true journey.