The training room was empty—Bright had reserved it specifically for a private practice, understanding that testing his new capabilities required some measure of discretion rather than an audience.

Duncan arrived moments later, his massive frame filling the doorway, his expression showing a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

"Ready to see what we've both developed?" Duncan asked, moving toward the central sparring ring.

"Ready," Bright confirmed, his spatial awareness already activating unconsciously, mapping the room dimensions, identifying optimal positioning, cataloging potential threat vectors despite knowing Duncan represented just a practice partner rather than an actual danger.

His danger sense stayed silent. It always did around Duncan. From the very beginning, the boy had never felt like a danger. Maybe his instincts had already decided he belonged on the same side.

They took positions opposite each other in the ring, the reinforced floor designed to withstand their Initiate-level impacts, the barrier matrices ready to prevent any accidental injury.

"You first," Bright suggested. "Show me what you've integrated."

Duncan nodded, his cores activating visibly.

Bone Guard emerged from his skin—a defensive plating that had become a signature of his tank specialization, white armor coating his massive frame with organic efficiency.

Then something new activated—subtle at first, just a shift in how Duncan's bulk moved, how his weight distributed during motion.

The tank moved—not with his usual sluggish power that his size usually demanded, but with surprising agility. His body's forward momentum released abruptly, redirecting into a lateral movement that shouldn't have been possible for someone his mass.

He's controlling his momentum, Bright realized with a flicker of admiration. Turning his mass into a leverage instead of a burden—redirecting the force so his sheer weight worked for him, not against him.

Duncan wielded his spear—a crude weapon Bright remembered from Grim Hollow, back when Duncan had used it to teach him the fundamentals. Despite his tank-oriented build favoring shields and heavier arms, the spear had remained his weapon of choice.

And the combination was surprisingly effective.

Duncan charged with crushing force, then released his momentum abruptly—sliding laterally while maintaining his defensive position, creating an angle that forced his opponent to reorient, following with a spear thrust from unexpected position.

He adapted, Bright noted with genuine approval. Turned raw technique into competence. Bent the spear around his build rather than forcing himself to bend to it.

"Your turn," Duncan said, breathing slightly harder from demonstration. "Show me what you've developed."

Careful, Bright warned himself. I can't show everything. Not the full reach of the Absolute Void Physique.

A fraction would be enough. One thread of strength, cleanly applied—enough to explain his growth without exposing its depth.

He activated his cores—his overall body enhancement producing a visible increase in his physical capability, and his spatial awareness expanding to cover the entire training room.

Then he engaged his Absolute Void Physique partially—just enough to demonstrate his enhanced movement, but not enough to reveal his dimensional manipulation or unconscious defense.

"Ready," Bright announced.

Duncan attacked with same combination he'd demonstrated—a powerful charge followed by an abrupt momentum release, repositioning and a spear thrust from an unexpected angle.

Bright flowed around it.

He wasn't blocking or conventionally dodging. Just occupying the space Duncan's attack wasn't reaching, his enhanced spatial awareness making every movement feel predictable to him, every strike telegraphed seconds before its execution.

Too easy, Bright recognized immediately. My perception has improved beyond what sparring with Duncan can actually test.

Duncan tried again—faster combinations, more complex footworks, leveraging his Momentum Control to create multiple threat points simultaneously.

Bright weaved through the attacks like they were moving in slow motion, his Absolute Void Physique making the evasion feel effortless.

I'm not even trying, Bright thought with growing concern. I'm just… existing in spaces his attacks aren't reaching. Like my body knows where to be without conscious direction.

He hadn't used his teleportation—that was too conspicuous, too obviously supernatural, as it would be reserved for his enemies rather than training partners.

But even without that capability, even limiting himself to just enhanced awareness and movement—

Duncan can't touch me.

They continued for several minutes—Duncan attacking with increasing intensity, Bright evading with effortless efficiency, the gap between their capabilities becoming painfully obvious despite Duncan's new core improving his offensive capability.

Finally Duncan stopped, his breathing heavy, his expression showing frustration mixed with recognition.

"I can't hit you," Duncan said flatly. "Not even close. Not even when I'm using everything I have and you're clearly holding back."

He noticed, Bright thought. Of course he noticed. Duncan's not stupid.

"Your Momentum Control is impressive," Bright offered. "It makes you a much more mobile tank."

Silence settled between them—it wasn't in anyway hostile, just the recognition of an uncomfortable truth.

The gap has grown wider, Duncan acknowledged internally. Back in Grim Hollow, we were closer in skill. I was stronger, he was more tactical from what I remember. Balanced differences.

Now he's transcended that balance. Developed a power that makes my raw strength irrelevant. That makes my improvements look marginal by comparison.

"You're still best tank I know," Bright said carefully.

"Just not a peer anymore," Duncan replied without bitterness. " I don't think I or even most of the first can actually challenge you in combat."

"We've got different specializations though," Bright tried. "We're developing along different trajectories. Comparing a tanks effectiveness to a controller's is comparing apples to—"

"Don't," Duncan interrupted gently. "Don't rationalize it. You've advanced beyond what I can currently match. That's the reality. No shame in acknowledging truth."

He deactivated his Bone Guard, let Momentum Control fade, leaned against the training room wall with exhaustion that was mental as much as physical.

"I knew you were exceptional," Duncan continued. "But seeing it demonstrated—seeing how easily you handle everything I throw at you—."

"You're going places Morgan," Duncan said.

"Duncan—"

"I'm not bitter," Duncan assured. "Not resentful. Just… recognizing the reality. Acknowledging that we're on different trajectories now. That squad dynamics from Vester don't translate perfectly to how well develop in this Academy."

He's right, Bright thought. And I hate that he's right. Hate that this was the consequences of striving for power, alienating oneself from that which made them common.

"You're still my friend," Bright said. "Still the person I trust. Still the teammate I want watching my back. That hasn't changed."

"No," Duncan agreed. "That hasn't changed. Just… everything else has. And we both need to acknowledge that rather than pretending we're still operating on equal footing."

They stood in heavy silence—recognition of the transformed dynamic settling between them, friendship remaining intact even as the gap created new distance.

This is what becoming exceptional actually means.

And it's lonelier than I expected.

-----

Elsewhere in the Academy, Adam sat in common area with his Enhanced Cognition processing the social dynamics at an accelerated rate, Mental Dampening making him forgettable to casual observation as his mind already planning his network construction.

Spies, Adam thought. Good old spies, an Information gathering apparatus that operated throughout Academy.

Just for fun, he told himself. Just an intellectual exercise. Probably won't see much actual use.

But if it does—having the established network would provide an advantage.

He'd already identified potential recruits.

Students on financial aid. Candidates whose Academy attendance depended on maintaining good standing. People who needed resources and would trade information for assistance.

It wouldn't be in any form exploitation, Adam rationalized. A mutually beneficial exchange. They provide intelligence. I provide access to resources through my growing connections.

That's a fair transaction if I do say so myself.

His Mental Dampening would protect both himself and his informants—reducing his detection probability, making the casual observers' minds slide past without registering his significance, creating a cognitive static that prevented any easy pattern recognition in their dealings.

Although he stated it was just for fun, he wanted to improve his mastery on his abilities as it was the only way to advance aside killing the crawlers and this was the fastest way he knew how, interacting with people and their minds.

He began shaping a recruitment pitch, smoothing its edges until it felt like an opportunity rather than pressure—an offer a person could accept without feeling cornered.

He knew the risk, though. His way of thinking had a habit of sliding too far, of turning people into pieces on a board instead of the living, complicated individuals they were.

And once he started seeing pieces instead of people, it got easier than it should have been.

Welp! I accepted this when I chose this path.

He finalized the recruitment list and began planning his initial contacts, already imagining the information network spreading throughout the Academy like an invisible web.

One recruit at a time, Adam thought.

One information source at a time.

That's my advancement.

Around him, the Academy moved through its familiar evening rhythm—candidates studying, talking, building alliances that mattered as much as lessons.

And Adam worked just as quietly, driven by a simple refusal: he would not remain powerless, not in a place where the weak were stepped on and forgotten.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.