The night was restless. Even as Albert drifted into uneasy sleep, his mind replayed the day's lessons—the threads of power barely holding together under Rhyds' scrutiny, the whispers of his classmates as they left the training hall, and the ever-present specter of his duel with Kara.
His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to rest.
I need control. I need precision. I need—
A sharp noise jolted him awake.
For a moment, he remained still, breath steady despite the pounding in his chest. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the New Haven skyline filtering through the massive window.
Then he heard it again—a muffled disturbance, like the shifting of metal against metal. Not a simple system reboot. Someone was inside EvoTech Tower.
Albert sat up, pulse quickening. His father's tower was one of the most secure structures in the city, protected by layers of quantum encryption and elite security. An ordinary intruder wouldn't make it past the lower floors.
But this wasn't an ordinary intruder.
With a quiet exhale, he slid out of bed and activated his Aetherion interface, pulling up a holographic map of the tower's security feed. Most of the floors were clear, but an anomaly flickered near the research wing, where high-level quantum tech was stored.
Albert narrowed his eyes. The 112th floor. Just a few levels below him.
He didn't hesitate.
The corridor was eerily silent as Albert stepped out of his quarters, barefoot but ready. The floor panels dimmed automatically to avoid alerting the intruder, but his senses were already on high alert.
As he moved, he activated his Binding, letting golden threads of energy flicker across his fingertips. It was still imperfect, still fragile, but at this moment, it didn't matter. This wasn't training—this was real.
The elevator was too risky. If someone had infiltrated EvoTech, they could have compromised the main systems. Instead, Albert opted for the emergency stairwell, descending quickly but silently, his heartbeat syncing with the quiet hum of the tower's vast network.
Then, as he neared the 112th floor, a sudden surge of static crackled through the walls, and the lights flickered.
Someone had triggered a lockdown.
Albert clenched his jaw. Whoever was inside wasn't just stealing information. They were cutting off access—either to prevent pursuit or to contain something even worse.
Pushing forward, he reached the sealed security door leading to the research wing. His Aetherion interface attempted to override the lock, but a distorted error message flashed back at him.
Unauthorized access detected. Clearance revoked.
Albert scowled. Whoever was inside had already rewritten the access codes. That left only one option.
Bracing himself, he gathered his Binding into a concentrated mass of luminous energy. It crackled against his skin as he forced it into the seams of the security panel, flooding the system with raw power.
The door groaned.
The lock resisted.
Then—
With a sharp burst of energy, the panel short-circuited, and the heavy doors slid open just enough for him to slip through.
The research lab beyond was dimly lit, emergency lights casting long, distorted shadows. Machines hummed softly, their circuits struggling to adapt to the security breach. Holographic displays flickered, half-erased data scrolling across them in chaotic patterns.
And at the far end of the lab, silhouetted against the glowing interface of a restricted vault, stood a figure clad in dark, shifting armor.
A Quantum Shroud operative.
Albert's breath caught. This wasn't just a random intruder—this was an attack.
The operative turned, their helmeted gaze locking onto Albert. For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was charged, a silent recognition of the inevitable clash to come.
Then, without warning, the figure lunged.
Albert barely had time to react. He sidestepped the initial strike—a vicious downward slash meant to incapacitate instantly. The operative's weapon vibrated with a disruptive energy that threatened to destabilize anything it touched.
A Quantum Edge.
Albert countered with a desperate burst of Binding, lashing out with golden threads that coiled toward his opponent. The operative twisted mid-air, evading the strands with inhuman agility before landing with a graceful, predatory stance.
Fast. Too fast.
Albert had fought Kara before, but this was different. This wasn't a duel or an academy test. This was real. And the operative wasn't holding back.
The next attack came even faster. The Quantum Edge slashed through the air, and Albert barely managed to deflect it with an improvised Binding shield. The impact sent a sharp tremor up his arm, and he stumbled back, cursing under his breath.
The operative pressed the advantage, delivering a flurry of precise strikes that forced Albert onto the defensive. He blocked where he could, dodged where he couldn't, but each second that passed chipped away at his stamina.
He needed to counter. He needed control.
Summoning every ounce of focus, he pivoted sharply, twisting his Binding threads into a concentrated spear of energy. The moment the operative stepped forward, Albert unleashed it—a pulse of raw power aimed directly at his enemy's center mass.
The impact was immediate. The operative was blasted backward, crashing into one of the lab's reinforced walls with enough force to send sparks flying.
For a split second, Albert thought he had won.
Then, as the smoke cleared, the operative rose.
Their armor was scorched, but they were still standing. Still advancing.
Albert's breath hitched.
They're still moving after that?
But before the fight could continue, a new voice cut through the air, cold and authoritative.
"That's enough."
Albert turned sharply—only to see his father.
Albert Sr. Faustin stood at the entrance of the lab, his presence alone making the air feel heavier. His expression was unreadable, but there was a quiet authority in his stance that even the Quantum Shroud operative acknowledged.
Without hesitation, the intruder stepped back, vanishing into the shadows as swiftly as they had appeared.
Albert was left standing, chest heaving, fists clenched. His Binding still crackled around him, but his mind was racing.
His father had known.
"You're late," Albert Sr. said, his voice even. "I expected you to notice the breach five minutes earlier."
Albert's fists tightened. "You knew this would happen?"
His father met his gaze with quiet intensity. "Consider it another lesson."
A long silence stretched between them. The weight of the confrontation, the exhaustion in Albert's limbs, and the cold realization that his father was still testing him—it all crashed down at once.
Finally, Albert exhaled sharply and turned away, his mind a whirlwind of frustration and resolve.
He wasn't just training to fight anymore.
This was bigger.
And he was just starting to realize how deep it went.