The hovercraft skidded to a stop in front of a massive, unassuming cliffside. For a moment, Zane thought Rhea had lost her mind—or her sense of direction.
"This is it?" he asked, stepping off the craft and squinting at the jagged rocks. "I was expecting something a little more… you know, habitable."
"Patience, scavenger," Rhea said, pulling a sleek wrist device from her jacket. She pressed a series of buttons, and the cliff began to rumble. The rock face shifted, massive sections sliding apart with an ominous groan. Hidden panels of shimmering metal emerged, and a glowing doorway flickered to life, bathing them in cool blue light.
"Okay, that's more like it," Zane muttered.
Kade chuckled as he hefted his gear. "You'll learn, kid. Rhea's full of surprises. Most of them uncomfortable, but surprises nonetheless."
Rhea didn't respond. She strode toward the doorway, her steps purposeful. Zane and Kade followed, entering the cavernous structure that was anything but a cave. Inside, the walls were lined with glowing panels displaying streams of data, maps of Cipher City, and schematics Zane couldn't begin to decipher. Automated drones zipped through the air, performing tasks with mechanical precision. The air hummed with the sound of machinery and faint whispers of energy.
"This," Rhea said, gesturing to the space around them, "is the Nexus Alpha. It was supposed to be the next phase of your training."
Zane raised an eyebrow. "Supposed to be?"
"We were compromised," Rhea said, her tone clipped. "The Sentinel found us sooner than I anticipated, which means we've had to accelerate our timeline."
Kade dropped his bag onto a nearby table with a loud thunk. "In plain English, kid, we're doing this now because waiting isn't an option."
The room they entered next was massive, its centerpiece a sleek, circular platform surrounded by an array of glowing pylons. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, and Zane half-expected an alien to step out of one of the walls.
"This is your training hub," Rhea said, her voice echoing slightly in the open space. "The platform is a neural interface designed to amplify and measure your connection to the Cipher Core. It will push you to your limits."
"Push me to my limits?" Zane asked, his voice rising. "I thought that's what the last test was for."
"That was just the warm-up," Rhea said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "This is the real deal."
Kade leaned against one of the pylons, grinning. "You're gonna love it. Or hate it. Probably both."
Rhea began explaining the process, her words clipped and efficient. The training hub, she said, was designed to simulate combat scenarios and force Zane to harness the Core's energy under pressure. The pylons would emit pulses of controlled energy, and Zane would have to channel the Core to neutralize them.
"Think of it like dodgeball," Kade offered, "except the balls are made of plasma, and if you mess up, it'll hurt. A lot."
"Thanks for the pep talk," Zane muttered, stepping onto the platform. The Core pulsed faintly in his hands, as if mocking him.
"Focus," Rhea said, her tone sharp. "The Core is like a river. If you fight the current, it'll drown you. If you channel it, you'll flow."
"Easy for you to say," Zane muttered. "You're not the one standing here."
Rhea ignored him, pressing a button on her wrist device. The pylons began to hum, their glow intensifying. "We're starting at level one. If you survive, we'll go higher."
"'If I survive,'" Zane echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Great. That's reassuring."
The first pulse came without warning. A ball of glowing energy shot from one of the pylons, heading straight for Zane. He yelped, barely ducking in time.
"You're supposed to block it, not dodge it," Rhea said, her tone laced with irritation.
"How about a heads-up next time?" Zane snapped.
"There won't be heads-ups in combat," Rhea shot back. "Again."
Another pulse fired, and this time Zane raised the Cipher Core instinctively. The energy hit an invisible barrier in front of him, dissipating into harmless sparks. The Core pulsed in response, a faint warmth spreading through his hands.
"Better," Rhea said. "But you're still thinking too much. The Core doesn't respond to overthinking. It responds to intent."
"Intent," Zane muttered, shaking his head. "Great. So now I have to be a mind reader?"
The training continued for what felt like hours. The pulses came faster, more erratic, and Zane found himself drenched in sweat, his arms trembling from the effort. Each success was met with another challenge, another level of intensity. By the time Rhea finally called a halt, Zane was on his knees, gasping for air.
"You lasted longer than I expected," Rhea said, her voice almost approving. "But you've got a long way to go."
"Thanks," Zane panted, dragging himself off the platform. "I'll put that on a motivational poster."
Kade handed him a bottle of water, grinning. "Hey, for what it's worth, you didn't die. That's progress."
The next few days followed the same grueling pattern. Training in the hub, combat drills with Kade, and long, exhausting sessions of channeling the Core's energy. Each day pushed Zane further, forcing him to confront not just the Core but his own doubts and fears.
And yet, despite the pain and frustration, Zane felt something shifting. The Core's pulses became less overwhelming, its energy more familiar. He still didn't fully understand it, but he was beginning to trust it—and himself.
On the fifth night, Zane sat alone in the training hub, the Cipher Core glowing softly in his hands. The room was quiet, the pylons dormant, but the hum of the Core filled the silence.
"Still awake?" Rhea's voice broke through the stillness. She stepped into the room, her expression unreadable.
"Couldn't sleep," Zane admitted. "Figured I'd… I don't know. Try to figure this thing out."
Rhea nodded, crossing her arms as she leaned against one of the pylons. "You're doing better than I expected. But you're still holding back."
"Holding back?" Zane frowned. "I've been throwing everything I've got at this."
"No," Rhea said softly. "You've been throwing everything you think you have. There's a difference."
Zane stared at her, unsure how to respond. Rhea's gaze softened, just slightly.
"You're afraid," she said. "Afraid of what the Core might do. Afraid of what it might make you."
Zane didn't deny it. "Yeah. I am."
"Good," Rhea said, pushing off the pylon. "Fear keeps you alive. But it can't control you. Not if you want to survive what's coming."
She turned to leave but paused at the doorway. "Get some rest, scavenger. Tomorrow's going to hurt."
As the door slid shut behind her, Zane looked down at the Core. Its glow seemed almost… expectant, as if it were waiting for him to take the next step. For the first time, he felt a flicker of confidence.
Whatever tomorrow brought, he'd face it head-on.