Alexei
Hall three—that's where we got assigned.
Everything was moving at a breakneck pace, even our review, which meant one thing: Jules' story was real.
Damn. I was about to stumble onto the special team sooner than expected. That meant I had to advance my plans, fast.
The training room wasn't massive—just a simple sparring room, the kind that didn't seem too intimidating at first glance. But appearances were deceiving. The clock read 14:30 sharp. Standing in front of us, already dressed in her training kit, was Jessicah Rodwy. Yeah, I knew her from back then. She was a bone-crusher, through and through. The name alone made anyone who knew her hesitate. Right now, she held a three-star ranking, a professional on the verge of becoming an expert. Soon, she'd be moving on to join a task force in the main family.
I'd crossed paths with her a few times before, even sparred with her when I was still in the Main family. Like me, she admired Viktor and had a no-nonsense approach to life. Cool, calm, and collected—that was Jessicah.
"Gather around," she barked, her voice cutting through the air with authority. We all moved closer, forming a semi-circle. Jules stood beside me, eyeing Jessicah with curiosity. Still, no sign of Benny.
"Alright, I'll make this quick," Jessicah continued as she strode across the sparring ring, casually adjusting her black sparring gloves. "This year's advancement test will include three stages." Her voice was steady, unfazed, like she'd done this a hundred times. "First, I'll be personally testing you. Then there's the written exam, same as usual. And lastly, a special test designed by the instructors."
She paused for effect, letting her words sink in. "My test is simple—a sparring match. You'll face me as a group, and those who last ten minutes in the ring pass. That's it." Her gaze swept across us, sharp and calculating. "Get yourselves ready. We start early tomorrow."
With that, she picked up her coat and left, flanked by three of her colleagues, the echo of her footsteps fading into the distance.
"I heard she's one of the best in the professional class," Jules muttered, trailing after me. Her eyes were still wide with awe, but she noticed my direction change quickly. "Wait, where the hell are you going?" she asked, catching up when she realized I wasn't heading toward the classes or the gym.
"Somewhere personal," I replied without slowing down.
"What? And why?" Jules darted in front of me, blocking my path, her brows furrowed in confusion.
I sighed. "You heard Jessicah. We're preparing for the test, and we have the whole day to ourselves. I'm not wasting it mingling with the rest. I have my own training style."
I stepped around her, continuing toward my destination. Predictably, she followed.
"Wait, shouldn't I tag along? I *am* your partner after all," she pressed, her voice edged with determination.
"Suit yourself," I shrugged.
I led the way to the least crowded training gym—a dusty space with minimal equipment, mostly used by people who just wanted to hide from actual training. As expected, the place was filled with people pretending to be busy. Some were half-heartedly doing squats, others were lazily lifting weights, but no one was serious. I made my way to the furthest corner, where I could have some peace and quiet, and dropped into a meditative stance.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jules asked, baffled, as she stood over me.
"Meditating," I replied simply, closing my eyes.
"Meditating? Seriously?"
"Haven't you heard?" I said, my voice calm and steady. "Meditation is the foundation of building willpower. This is the only place I won't be disturbed." I shut my eyes tighter, focusing on my breathing. "Find something to do while you're here."
"Hey ELL… activate simulation."
Activating Simulation…
I crack my neck and stretch my arms, feeling the tension in my muscles. I know what's coming. As I step into the ring, my eyes focus on the figure across from me. The advanced simulation version.He stands there, calm, composed, a mirror of my perfect self. Damn it he still has the aura of everything I desire, built to exploit every flaw, every weakness in my technique. His expression is annoyingly blank, like he's already won. I mean I might have that expression when I reach that level. It's not just about speed or strength; it's about precision, about knowing exactly what I'm going to do before I even think about it. I adjust myself.
"Okay, let's do this."
First Bout (5 minutes)
The second the timer starts, I explode into motion, my muscles reacting instantly as I close the distance. I lead with a high kick, aiming for his temple, but A. Alexei steps to the side with an almost casual ease, like he's seen it all before. His counterattack is immediate—a flurry of punches, each one perfectly aimed at my critical points. I barely manage to dodge the first one, the air whooshing past my face, but he's relentless.
His speed is unreal. He's faster than I remember from our last bout, more precise. Every punch feels like it's designed to shut me down. I'm forced to block, duck, and weave, trying to find an opening. But it's like fighting against a storm. My heart pounds in my chest as I deflect one of his punches and twist into an uppercut. For a moment, I think I've got him. But A.Alexei's left hand is already there, catching my fist mid-air.
With a grip like iron, he uses my momentum against me, lifting me off the ground and slamming me into the mat. The impact rattles my bones, leaving me breathless.
Beep.
Five minutes are up… You lost.
I roll onto my back, staring up at the simulated dark ceiling, trying to catch my breath. "Damn it," I mutter under my breath. I push myself to my feet, wiping the sweat from my brow. My body is heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and frustration. Three bouts. Three losses. Each time I've tried something different—new strategies, tricks, techniques. But A.Alexei… he adapts, getting faster, stronger, more efficient with every round. I can land a few hits, but it's never enough.
ELL, I need to purchase a skill.
What sort of skill?
I take a deep breath, feeling the frustration building inside me. "I need a skill that can boost my power to his level—even if it's only temporary. Like something you'd see in a game, where I can level up to match an opponent. Is that possible?"
Searching for a skill in the skill database…
A pause, then:
[Skill found: [Fractured Time]
"Details."
[Fractured Time:]
[This skill temporarily elevates the user's stats to match those of their opponent. If facing an advanced version of oneself, the user's abilities will rival that of the counterpart for a limited time. If it is a stronger enemy, the user will be leveled with them at the time given]
[Limitation: After the time limit expires, the user will fall into a death-like state as their cells undergo a full repair cycle.]
I rub the back of my neck, considering the risks. "A death state? Really?" I sigh. "Well, it's not like I have much of a choice, do I? Purchase it."
Skill purchased… Starting tutorial… Opponent: Advanced Alexei.
[Skill: Fractured Time activated; time limit: five minutes]
The moment the skill activates, it's like someone flipped a switch inside me. My entire body feels light, responsive, like every muscle and nerve is operating at peak efficiency. My senses sharpen, taking in every detail—the subtle shift in advance Alexei's stance, the tightening of his fist before he moves. For the first time, I feel like I can keep up.
He charges, but I'm ready. I move in sync with him, dodging his punch with ease. The world feels slower, almost like I'm seeing his attacks in slow motion. He's fast, but so am I. His frustration begins to show in the way his movements grow sharper, more aggressive. He's not used to being countered, and that's exactly what I'm doing.
I duck under a kick and retaliate with a swift punch to his ribs. It lands solidly, and for the first time, I feel the satisfying impact of a clean hit. Alexei staggers back, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He's starting to realize that I'm no longer the weaker version of myself.
He comes at me again, this time faster, his strikes blurring in front of me. But I'm right there with him, blocking, deflecting, moving like I've trained for this moment my entire life. My body reacts on instinct, driven by the skill that's coursing through me. I twist around one of his punches, landing a solid kick to his side. The impact forces him back again.
For the first time, I'm winning. I'm in control.
I can tell he is grits his teeth, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He's not used to this, not used to being matched blow for blow. He charges again, more desperate, his punches coming harder and faster, but I see through him. I dodge each attack, countering with precision. A punch to his jaw, a knee to his stomach—I'm landing hit after hit, driving him back.
Then, I feel it—the timer ticking down in the back of my mind. Five minutes. I have to finish this now.
I leap back, putting distance between us, gathering my strength. My body feels like it's on fire, every muscle pushed to its limit. Alexei charges once more, but this time, I'm ready. I spin on my heel, launching a devastating kick aimed right at his chest. The air crackles as my foot connects with him, the force behind the blow reverberating through my entire body.
Alexei's eyes widen in shock as he's lifted off his feet, crashing into the ground with a thunderous impact. He doesn't get back up.
Beep.
Five minutes are up… You won.
I stand there, chest heaving, my hands trembling from the adrenaline. Sweat pours down my face, and my muscles scream in protest, but I've done it. I've finally beaten him—beaten the version of myself that always seemed out of reach.
But as the victory sinks in, so does the aftereffect of Fractured Time. My body begins to shut down, like someone pulled the plug. My vision blurs, my legs give out, and I collapse to the ground, every cell in my body screaming in agony.
Entering cellular repair mode… Initiating death state…