The steel door of Training Room Gamma closed with a deep clang. Ren stood on the metal platform, the Mark Regulator pressing cold and tight against his wrist. The room was sterile, bathed in shadowless neon light, yet the suppression devices had been weakened—designed for testing unstable Marks, not for total restraint. Every flicker of light reflected off the metal walls seemed sharper, colder, emphasizing the isolation, the distance between him and the human observers behind the glass.
Ren's Handler stood behind thick glass, flanked by two technicians absorbed in their consoles, faces taut with tension. The Handler no longer held a scientific detachment, only desperation. His gaze lingered on Ren like a predator sizing up prey, measuring risk and potential alike.
"This training is not optional," the Handler's voice boomed through the intercom, amplified and sharp. "We are testing your Anomaly. Forget everything you learned in Blackspire. Here, pure logic does not apply. You are a logical variable trapped in an illogical system."
The Handler instructed Ren to activate Faint Echo—a basic spark of energy normally manageable by novice Divers. Minimal, almost benign, it lacked the emotional strain of Noise, the internal disturbance from the 27 suppressed Echoes that resisted separation.
Ren executed it flawlessly. With razor-sharp logic, he treated Faint Echo as the most manageable variable. Closing his eyes, he focused his awareness and isolated the Noise from the 27 suppressed Echoes. He channeled the Faint Echo signal with precision. His fingertips glowed a soft, steady blue—exactly what the Handler expected from a skilled Diver.
Suddenly, alarms shrieked from the Handler's consoles. Indicator lights flickered violently, red consuming the displays. The AI scanner displayed chaotic distortions, broken data lines, internal resonance waves surpassing safe limits.
"Stop! Stop now, Vessel!" the Handler yelled, slamming emergency buttons. "You control individual Echoes, but your internal resonance… it's screaming! The scanner shows overall Noise spiking drastically! You do not control your Echoes, Ren. You are only allowing the anomaly to breathe louder."
Ren stared, confused, frustrated. Logic could not compute this failure. "I only activated Faint Echo. Calculations indicate Mark activation at less than one percent. No significant pressure increase," he said monotone, attempting rational argument.
"Calculation is your weakness!" the Handler shot back. "You are a Vessel, not a normal Diver! Activating even a single Echo—no matter how small—signals your Mark. Internal Noise responds, and your Mark's Internal Resonance panics, reverberating across the system."
The 27 suppressed Echoes responded in panic, struggling to break free. "You turned on a light, and your Mark opened all gates at once!"
The Handler inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself, pointing at the still-flickering red data. "We can no longer train your control. Look at the scanner—internal resonance waves fractured, Noise spinning wildly, repeated alarms. You must learn to let the Echo flow, or the Mark will 'panic.' If logic cannot contain it, you must survive through madness."
Ren shook his head. "I will not allow irrelevant trauma to affect my calculations. Emotions are disruptive variables."
"You have no choice!" the Handler shouted. "The Silent Key is in Rift Level 3. We need speed, not precision. If you explode, we lose only one Vessel."
The Handler altered the simulation. Gamma's walls projected the dark, damp Nightmare Realm, resembling The Siphon Mire.
"Level 1 Threat Simulation," the Handler instructed. "Whisperling—Nightmare Entity capable of illusion. This time, your Regulator will be off. Use only passive instinct. We are testing whether your Anomaly can survive on its own."
Ren stood rigid. The cold pressure of the Regulator vanished. Instantly, the Noise of the 27 Echoes surged within him, a chorus of incomprehensible whispers. The Emptiness Pulse—cold, focused resonance—flowed from Echo Mira, pressing on his logic, unlike the gentle Faint Echo. He felt the presence as tangible weight in his chest, a silent insistence that both warned and guided him.
The Whisperling appeared—a thin, black wisp, limbless, spinning in place. "Act! Survive!" the Handler yelled.
A wave of panic infiltrated him—not his own. Cold, sharp, unnatural, it gripped from outside consciousness. It was Mira's, the residual fear lingering in her Echo, brushing against his deepest logic.
Ren felt it press against his chest, disrupting calculation. He did not attempt control; his body reacted to Mira's unease seeping through the Mark. As the Whisperling lunged, Ren closed his eyes. He allowed the Noise of the 27 Echoes to merge with the chill of Mira's Echo. The Fissure Step activated passively—not him moving, but his shadow guiding his body aside.
Handler and technicians gasped. "That's not Faint Echo! Movement is undetectable by navigation systems!"
The Whisperling missed. Ren opened his eyes. His body had shifted without conscious will. Another strike, another spin—he did not evade. He simply observed, letting the Emptiness within resonate.
Suddenly, Echo Mira exited Ren—not as light, but as a freezing wave. The Emptiness Pulse immobilized the Whisperling. It crumbled, turning to black dust.
The Handler deactivated the simulation. Silence engulfed the room, broken only by Ren's ragged breaths. The scanner displayed chaos: Noise spikes, Internal Resonance distortions, no recognizable Echo category.
The Handler approached the glass, voice low, tremulous. "Sensors show… nothing. Not Echo. Not Mark. No pattern. Zero. Like the system stared into empty space. Ren… whatever just came out… has no identity."
With a sigh, pointing to the exit: "Forget control. Forget data. The Experimental Faction needs only one thing: your chaos. The artifact you seek… called The Silent Key. And those calling themselves the Nocturn Circle believe the key must be in the hands of a fractured Vessel."
Ren left Training Room Gamma. Fully aware now: he was an Anomaly set as bait, a fracture carrying the Void and Noise feared by all.
Outside the Training Room, his step faltered. His foot moved a fraction of a second ahead of intent—a reflex not his own. As if another pattern within his body was learning to adjust his motion.
Ren did not turn. He noted the anomaly mechanically. That fastest step felt like the stride of something learning to use his body. He glanced at the Mark Regulator on his wrist. He knew that once he stepped into the Rift, it would have to come off. Control was an illusion; logic would not save him. All he had was that wild response… whatever it might be.
Even in this moment, the faint hum of suppressed Echoes inside him vibrated subtly, a reminder that his potential was no longer theoretical. He was not just a Vessel—he was becoming a system beyond comprehension, a walking fracture of reality.