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Book 2 | Twenty-Four: Evolution

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  Dr. Nazari’s head snapped up, her glasses sliding down her nose again. “A few hours? What in particular do you mean, Lawthorn?”

  “I think there’s another way. I can make this work.”

  “You just said you’re at capacity.” Huan perked up.

  “For now, yes. But I’m close to an evolution threshold.”

  Dr. Nazari’s pen was back in her hand instantly, hovering over her notepad. “You’re suggesting you could deliberately trigger an evolution event? Within hours?”

  “I have another ability—Neural Dominion. I’ve been avoiding using it”

  “Neural Dominion? A Psion’s ability? Emotional manipulation? Mind control?”

  “Not quite. It’s more like... emotional resonance. Creating a connection between minds.”

  “And you believe developing this ability could push you over the evolution threshold?”

  “I know it will. My system’s been flashing warnings for days. I’m at ninety-four percent.”

  “Right, you’re an interface bearer.” More notes, then, “Fascinating. And you’ve been actively suppressing this ability? Why?”

  “The person I got it from... he wasn’t a good person.”

  “You acquired it from Munson.” Dr. Nazari wasn’t asking a question.

  Lance stared at her. “You know about that?”

  “It’s in your file, Lawthorn.”

  “Of course it is,” Lance said flatly. “Thorough as always.”

  “The Enhanced Development Agency monitors all significant arma manifestations.”

  Huan looked between them. “I don’t understand. What does this mean for me?”

  Dr. Nazari set her pen down and removed her glasses, wiping them methodically with the edge of her lab coat. “It means, Recruit Huan, that I have to ask for your patience.”

  “More waiting. Great.” Huan slumped in her chair.

  “If Lawthorn can trigger an evolution event, he may be able to accommodate your ability after all.”

  “And if he can’t?”

  “Then we proceed with our original arrangement.”

  Dr. Nazari replaced her glasses and stood. “I’ll arrange for lunch to be brought to you. This may take some time.”

  “So I just sit here? Alone?”

  “I’ll make sure you’re comfortable. Perhaps some reading materials?”

  “Whatever.” Huan waved a hand.

  “Lawthorn, we should discuss this in detail. Particularly how you plan to develop this ability safely.”

  “I’m sure you’ve already figured it out,” Lance said.

  “There’s a lab on sublevel two with the necessary monitoring equipment.”

  Lance sighed. “Lead the way.”

  Dr. Nazari moved toward the door. “I’ll inform Agent Garvin of our adjusted timeline. Huan, someone will bring you lunch shortly.”

  “Take your time. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to be.” Huan’s bitter tone couldn’t quite mask her renewed hope.

  As Dr. Nazari opened the door, Lance caught Huan’s gaze. “I’m going to make this work. I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lawthorn,” Huan said. “Just... try. That’s all I’m asking.”

  The door closed behind them, Dr. Nazari gave instructions to the guards, and as soon as they started walking, she spoke up.

  “I have a potential solution, Lawthorn. Neural Dominion manipulates neural pathways—typically those of others. I ran your ability signature through our ArmaCore Predictive Matrix, and it suggested something interesting. What if you created a biofeedback loop by turning the ability inward?”

  ArmaCore Predictive Matrix. The term floated like disjointed puzzle pieces in his mind. They were training their systems on operative data, feeding every ability demonstration and field report into their latent architecture models to extrapolate new applications. Doubt pooled in his veins. He’d done what Nazari was suggesting with Vicky this morning. But now she wanted him to...

  “You want me to use mind control on... myself?”

  “Not mind control. Neural reorganization. I’ll show you when we get to the lab.”

  Lance followed her through a series of hallways, deeper into the facility than he’d been before. This time they took an elevator down one level instead of the stairs from earlier and emerged into a corridor with reinforced walls and security checkpoints. The ambience felt different here—charged, somehow, as if the very atmosphere held traces of arma energy.

  “These labs are designed for high-energy testing,” Dr. Nazari explained as they passed through another checkpoint. “We haven’t needed to use it yet since the containment chambers upstairs seem to be enough for now, but that might not be the case in a few months.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She stopped before a heavy door with multiple warning signs. After scanning her credentials, she ushered Lance inside and a red beacon light started flashing.

  The lab contained sophisticated monitoring equipment surrounding a central reinforced chamber. Screens displayed data streams and energy readings Lance couldn’t fully interpret. One wall held a series of images—brain scans, cellular structures, arma patterns.

  “Every evolution follows a sequence,” Dr. Nazari said, pointing to the display. “The body reaches an energy threshold, cellular structures begin to destabilize, and then—if the subject survives—a complete restructuring occurs at the molecular level. There’s a small chance that the evolution process can be fatal.”

  Lance studied the images, noting the progression from normal cellular structures to chaotic energy patterns, then to more complex, organized formations. Then, as his brain caught up, he cocked his head. “Define ‘small chance.’ What are we really looking at here?”

  “The data is still limited. Not enough for statistical reliability.”

  “I need something more concrete than that,” Lance pressed. “Even a rough estimate.”

  “One in five,” she admitted. “That’s all I can say based on the cases we’ve documented. But I’ll personally oversee the process and make sure everything goes smoothly. We have protocols in place that should minimize the risks.”

  So basically… she’d witnessed five second evolutions, and one person hadn’t survived. Not good. He wished the good doctor would drop all the bureaucracy—the sterile terms and careful phrasing were starting to freak him out. At least Dr. Patel, for all her overeagerness, had a chipper demeanor that made the bizarre seem manageable.

  “On top of that, I think Neural Dominion gives you a unique advantage.” Dr. Nazari pulled up a file on a nearby screen. “This is your latest arma scan from yesterday.”

  Lance stared at the reading. His energy signature pulsed in vibrant blue, significantly brighter than the baseline comparison shown beside it. “Go on.”

  “With proper preparation and guidance? Perhaps eighty percent.” She adjusted her glasses. “By turning Neural Dominion inward, you could potentially reorganize your neural pathways to accommodate higher energy levels. Essentially, preparing your body for what’s coming instead of being blindsided by it.”

  Lance walked around the chamber, examining the equipment. The idea of deliberately triggering an evolution terrified him, but so did the prospect of an uncontrolled event. “And this would happen... here?”

  “This chamber can contain energy discharges up to twelve terajoules—more than enough for a controlled evolution. We would monitor your vitals and arma levels throughout the process.”

  “Let’s get on with it, then.”

  Dr. Nazari was already moving to prepare the equipment. “Remove your shirt and sit in the chair. I’ll attach the monitoring devices.”

  Lance complied, watching as she placed electrodes on his chest, temples, and along his spine. Various screens lit up with his vital signs—heart rate, brain activity, blood pressure, and a pulsing blue indicator that must have been his arma energy levels.

  “I’ll be monitoring from behind that barrier,” Dr. Nazari explained, pointing to a reinforced observation area. “The microphones will allow us to communicate. Are you ready to begin?”

  “Last question: what happens if something goes wrong?”

  “Total cellular collapse. Essentially, your body would tear itself apart at the molecular level. But as I’ve explained, you face much worse odds with an uncontrolled event.”

  Well, shit. Molecular disintegration wasn’t exactly on today’s to-do list, he thought, settling into the chair and fighting back a wave of nausea that climbed up his throat.

  Dr. Nazari finished calibrating the equipment, then retreated to the observation area. Her voice came through speakers in the ceiling.

  “Start by accessing Neural Dominion, just as you would normally. Feel the energy signature, but instead of directing it outward, focus it inward. Imagine your own neural pathways as the target.”

  Lance closed his eyes while summoning the ability he’d kept buried, and warmth bloomed across his palm with the distinctive sensation of arma energy pooling beneath his skin, readying itself to breach the boundaries between minds.

  But there was no other mind here. Only his own.

  He turned the energy back on himself, searching for the neural connections within his own brain. At first, nothing happened. The energy seemed to slide off, unable to find purchase.

  “I can’t connect,” he gritted out.

  “Focus on a specific emotion or memory.”

  Lance considered her advice. He sorted through his emotions. One immediately surfaced above the rest—guilt.

  Stage 3: Biomolecular reconstruction - 95%

  Stage 4: Energy Framework Reconstruction - 31%

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. His mind flashed to Titan’s Den, the unbearable heat of the flames he had created. His bare back clung to the black artificial leather chair. An electrode slid down his damp skin.

  This time, something shifted. The energy found a foothold, connecting to the neural pathways associated with that guilt. Lance felt a brief moment of calm as Neural Dominion suppressed the emotion—but then the guilt resurfaced, stronger than before.

  [Neural Dominion (Alpha I)] detecting increased neural activity

  Mode: Emotional Resonance (1% → 5%)

  ‘CRACK’

  His ears filled with the phantom sound of Diego’s leg. The bone splintering under pressure he himself had applied, the awful way it had bent sideways at an impossible angle—

  “I can’t… it’s working, but it’s not holding,” Lance reported, voice strained.

  “You’re creating the feedback loop. Each time you suppress the emotion, your brain compensates by intensifying it. Keep going. Push through the resistance.”

  Stage 3: 98%

  Lance gritted his teeth and tried again. He focused on the guilt, used Neural Dominion to suppress it, then felt it return with redoubled force. With each iteration, the connection grew stronger. The monitors beeped faster as his neural activity increased, energy circulation accelerating.

  New capability: Emotional Echo detected

  Dark spots swam in his peripheral vision as he pushed deeper. The room around him began to fade as memories surfaced—vivid, painful recollections he couldn’t suppress.

  Stage 4: 49%

  Warning alerts cascaded through his system, messages blinking urgently one atop another, but he brushed them aside and channeled his attention toward the visceral emotions bubbling beneath.

  He saw Briella’s face, her neck cracking as she struggled against the choke. He felt Vicky’s anger when he liberated her from Rick’s control. He remembered frightening Sarah.

  Stage 3: 99%

  “Your energy levels are rising rapidly,” Dr. Nazari’s voice seemed distant now. “You’re approaching the threshold. Continue pushing.”

  The memories came faster. Father Rossi severed in half by the bronze statue, intestines spilled across the cathedral floor. Mark Turner with the titanium chopstick protruding from his eye socket, penetrating deep into his brain. Rick’s disfigured face, his features pulverized into an unrecognizable mass under Lance’s bloodied fist. He could still hear the wet squelch as bone and cartilage gave way, smell the coppery tang of plasma, feel the warm thickness seeping between his knuckles.

  Each memory carried emotions—guilt, rage, fear, helplessness, disgust, shame, desperation, horror, regret. Lance used Neural Dominion to process each one, cycling through them in an accelerating feedback loop. His heart pounded against his ribs, blood rushing in his ears.

  Stage 3: Biomolecular reconstruction - 100%

  Stage 4: 87%

  Then, abruptly, a new image formed—Maverick ‘Rick’ Munson, standing before him with that smug smile.

  Stage 4: 87%

  Lance’s first instinct was to fight this mental projection, to push it away. But something stopped him. Instead, he looked at Rick’s image directly, acknowledging what he’d taken from this man—not just an ability, but a responsibility.

  90%...

  93%...

  96%...

  99%...

  “I took it,” Lance said to the mental image. “And I accept what comes with it.”

  Stage 4: Energy Framework Reconstruction - 100%

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