The echoes of the crowd's chants still rang in Zane's ears as he trudged back to the Nexus Alpha. His body ached from the fight with Gorex, and his pride wasn't doing much better. Every blow, every stumble, every mistake replayed in his mind like a mocking loop. He could still feel the Core in his hands, its faint pulse almost as if it were laughing at him, too.
"Well, that was a disaster," Kade said cheerfully as he stepped into the training hub, tossing his gear onto a table. "Not that I expected you to win, but I figured you'd at least land more than one hit."
"Not helping, Kade," Zane muttered, flopping onto the edge of the platform.
"Oh, come on," Kade said, leaning against a nearby console. "You're alive, aren't you? That's a win in my book."
Rhea entered the room, her expression sharp and focused. "Alive isn't good enough," she said, crossing her arms. "If you keep relying on luck and adrenaline, you won't survive the next fight. Gorex was mid-tier. The opponents above him will tear you apart."
Zane groaned, rubbing his temples. "I know, okay? I get it. I wasn't ready. But what am I supposed to do? The Core barely listens to me."
"Because you're not listening to it," Rhea said, stepping closer. "The Core isn't just a tool, Zane. It's a conduit. It amplifies your intent and your focus. If your thoughts are scattered, so is its power."
Zane frowned. "So what? I just have to think really hard, and it'll work?"
Rhea shook her head. "It's not about thinking. It's about intent. Your mind has to be clear, and your purpose unwavering. Right now, you're a mess—a mix of panic, frustration, and self-doubt. The Core amplifies that, too."
"Great," Zane muttered, slumping further. "So I'm basically my own worst enemy."
"Correct," Rhea said bluntly. "But you can fix that."
Rhea led Zane to the training platform, gesturing for him to step onto it. The pylons around the circle began to hum softly, their glow faint but ominous. Kade leaned back against the wall, clearly enjoying the show.
"We're going to start small," Rhea said, adjusting the settings on her wrist device. "I'll trigger low-level pulses, and you'll use the Core to block them. No panic. No overthinking. Just intent."
"Sounds simple enough," Zane said, stepping onto the platform. The Core warmed slightly in his hands, as if responding to the challenge.
"It's not," Rhea said flatly, pressing a button. "Begin."
The first pulse shot from a pylon, a small sphere of energy that hummed as it streaked toward Zane. He raised the Core instinctively, and a faint shield flickered to life, deflecting the pulse into harmless sparks.
"Good," Rhea said. "Again."
Another pulse fired, then another. Zane managed to block them both, his movements clumsy but effective. For a moment, he felt a flicker of confidence.
Then the pulses came faster.
Zane stumbled, his shield faltering as one of the pulses grazed his shoulder. The sting was sharp but not unbearable, though the humiliation was far worse.
"Focus!" Rhea snapped. "You're hesitating."
"I'm trying!" Zane shouted, deflecting another pulse. "This thing doesn't come with an instruction manual, you know!"
"Intent isn't something you can teach," Rhea said, her tone calm but unyielding. "It's something you have to find. Stop thinking about what you can't do and focus on what you need to do."
The training continued for what felt like hours. Zane blocked some pulses, missed others, and took more than a few direct hits. His frustration grew with every failure, but so did his determination. Each time he fell, he forced himself back to his feet, the Core's faint pulse his only anchor.
At one point, Kade walked over, tossing him a bottle of water. "You know," he said casually, "this reminds me of my first fight."
"Let me guess," Zane muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "You won on your first try."
Kade laughed. "Not even close. I got my ass handed to me in front of a crowd twice as big as the one at the Shatterdome. But you know what? It didn't matter. Because every time I got knocked down, I got a little stronger. A little faster. Eventually, I started winning."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Zane asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"No," Kade said, grinning. "But it's supposed to remind you that everyone starts somewhere. Even the great Kade Drayen."
Rhea rolled her eyes. "Enough with the ego trip, Kade. Let him focus."
As the session wore on, Zane began to notice a change. The Core's pulses no longer felt erratic; they were steady, almost rhythmic. The shield he generated became less of a reaction and more of an extension of his intent. It wasn't perfect—far from it—but it was progress.
"Better," Rhea said as Zane deflected another pulse. "You're starting to understand."
"Barely," Zane panted, his arms trembling. "This thing still feels like it's fighting me."
"It always will," Rhea said. "The Core isn't your ally. It's a test. It pushes you because it wants to see how far you'll go."
"Great," Zane muttered. "A sentient stress test. Just what I needed."
The final challenge of the day came as a series of rapid pulses, each one faster and more erratic than the last. Zane's shield flickered and faltered, but he managed to deflect most of them. The last pulse struck the edge of the shield, sending a burst of sparks into the air.
"Not bad," Rhea said as the pylons powered down. "Still sloppy, but better."
"Thanks for the glowing review," Zane said, collapsing onto the edge of the platform. His body ached, but there was a strange sense of satisfaction in his chest. He hadn't won, not completely, but he hadn't lost, either.
Kade clapped him on the back, his grin as wide as ever. "See? Told you you'd get there. Eventually."
"Yeah, yeah," Zane muttered, though he couldn't help but smile. "What's next?"
Rhea raised an eyebrow. "Next, you rest. Tomorrow, we start again."
Zane groaned, but there was a flicker of determination in his eyes. For the first time, he felt like he might actually stand a chance—not just against the Core, but against everything waiting for him in the Shatterdome and beyond.