With a swift command, Alaric activated the next phase: sequential overload. The device began hacking segment by segment from multiple directions, slipping through the layers like a water snake slithering beneath a drain. And by the time the attackers noticed the anomaly, it was already too late.
"Found your root," Alaric whispered, eyes locked on a slowly blinking blue dot at the far end of the network.
One by one, their backup nodes went dark. Not destroyed, but forcibly shut down from the inside. A clear sign that Alaric's AI was now firmly seated in the driver's seat, and the enemy had completely lost track of the strange lines of code.
Digital alarms echoed like the hollow click of empty bullets. Their screens began throwing errors.
"Data error: unable to process."
"Request denied."
"File corrupted."
Then came the sharp alert from the monitoring system he'd installed on the enemy server:
"Server overload. Force shutdown initiated."
Alaric leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable, though his breath was still quick. He knew this was only the beginning. But their backup no longer had any explosive potential. Without their main weapon, it would take them time to recover.
He murmured, half relieved, half cautious,
"This weapon... works."
But Alaric wasn't proud. He knew that someone like Tio Mahendra wouldn't stop after just one defeat. Still, for now... it was his win. They were all helpless even though they were the ones who challenged him.
Sunlight had fully bloomed, slipping gently through the slats of Alaric's minimalist modern window. The scent of morning dew and damp earth still lingered in the air.
Despite just pulling off a major strike using his prototype weapon, successfully breaking through the backup server defenses of Tio Mahendra's agents, Alaric didn't feel like jumping straight into more serious tasks.
He didn't know why. Maybe his soul just felt lighter. Maybe he was still slightly shaken by the sudden barrage in the digital world he normally ruled with ease.
Alaric strolled over to the wooden table near his small kitchen and gazed out the window. The world seemed to be giving him a moment to breathe after that long dopamine-fueled journey.
He set down his glass and picked up his phone from the work desk in the living room. The screen lit up, and just as he expected… work notifications had already started flooding in. But after checking them carefully, only two tasks actually required his attention today.
One was a minor bug report in the central office's security system, and the other was simply a document review for the backend AI upgrade. The rest? Nothing urgent, easily delayed or delegated.
He exhaled lightly. The time was 7:30 AM. Still early. Normally, he'd already be prepping to head out—or even sitting in the office, sipping his favorite mango juice while discussing strategies with his boss.
But today... he wanted to take it easy. No rushing, no sense of being chased by an invisible dog.
He walked over to the west side of his house, toward a glass-walled room that offered a peaceful view of a small garden outside. This was his private gym.
There weren't many machines. Just the essentials. Dumbbells, a stationary bike, a yoga mat, and one multifunction strength machine.
This room wasn't purely for working out. It was a space for motion without noise. Whether light or heavy, no goal at the gym ever felt heavier than a small task accompanied by the noise of the outside world.
Alaric stepped inside and dropped lazily onto the chest press bench. Not to start yet, but just to enjoy the silence.
His heart was still buzzing from earlier. But in this space, with the scent of rubber flooring and the soft breeze of the AC, the tension in his body began to unwind.
Suddenly—
Buzz. Buzz.
His phone lit up and vibrated on the floor.
Alaric didn't answer right away. He just stared at the screen as it kept shaking. Time seemed to slow down, letting an old memory bubble up from the past.
The phone continued buzzing on a small glass table next to the treadmill. Alaric glanced over, tempted to ignore it. But the name on the screen made the corner of his lips curl slightly into a smile.
Dony.
A name full of nostalgia. A childhood friend since elementary school, his basketball teammate, someone who had seen the version of Alaric before all this began. A quiet friend who always showed up when it mattered most.
They hadn't really talked in a while. Alaric immediately swiped to answer, half reclining against the workout bench.
"Hey," he said casually.
"Ric! I'm on the road, man!" Dony's voice was as cheerful as ever. "I was heading straight home, but then I ended up at the gym. Don't ask me why. I just felt like pushing myself today."
"Huh? The gym?" Alaric squinted playfully. "Trying to impress some girls?"
"Haha, maybe. But seriously, I'm motivated to get back in shape. Gotta keep up with you—you're basically a magazine model now."
"Come on," Alaric muttered, amused but smiling. "So?"
"After the gym, I'm coming over to your area. How about we meet at our usual spot? The park near the gate."
Alaric glanced at the digital clock in the corner of the room. Still 7:30. He had a pretty light day ahead. The two key tasks could wait until later, as he'd checked earlier this morning.
And somehow, today's vibe gave him more room to breathe. With Dony dropping in like a breeze of fresh nostalgia, the timing felt just right.
"Sure," Alaric replied, standing up.
"I'll see you there."
"Got it. See you soon."
After ending the call, Alaric placed the phone on a small shelf and turned to face the full-length mirror on the gym wall. His eyes scanned his reflection—white sleeveless shirt, slightly sweaty even though he hadn't started yet. Maybe because of the warm weather.
Still, his posture had been improving lately. He had turned on the AC earlier. Not too cold, just enough to cool the room.
But he wasn't satisfied. He had new goals. Maybe because his recent missions demanded more stamina. He wanted a body that wasn't just built, but truly functional and responsive.
Alaric grabbed a pair of dumbbells from the wall rack. They were heavy about twenty kilograms each. He carried them to the center of the room and faced the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
"Four sets... ten reps," he muttered.
He began with shoulder presses, lifting both dumbbells from shoulder height straight up with controlled force. His arm muscles tightened, the fibers clearly visible beneath his skin slick with sweat.
Every push and pull was accompanied by steady breathing. His focus was on strength, rhythm, and full control.
After finishing the shoulder presses, he set the dumbbells down and sat on the bench by the chest press machine. With his right hand, he grabbed a water bottle nearby, took a sip, then wiped his forehead with a small towel. The air was cool from the AC, but his body was heating up fast.
One... two... three...
His movements were stable, his pace consistent. It flowed smoothly, something he had done countless times. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with his breath. Only the quiet clink of metal and occasional sharp exhales broke the silence.
He knew a strong body wasn't about looks. It was about control, discipline, and endurance. Especially against unseen burdens. Mental weight.
Without wasting time, he moved on to the chest press. His favorite for shaping the chest muscles. He sat upright, adjusted his back and grip, and pushed the handles forward, feeling the tension build.
He followed with some sit-ups. Nothing too heavy today. Just enough to keep the blood flowing and the energy up.
The first reps were easy. But by the seventh, the burn kicked in. Still, he never stopped at the comfort zone. Alaric welcomed the burn, the resistance of his body under pressure.
Rep after rep, his breathing grew heavier. But his gaze stayed locked, his jaw tight. In his mind, he wasn't just lifting weights. He was rejecting weakness. Refusing stillness. Fighting surrender.
Sweat ran from his temple down to his jawline, finally dripping onto the floor mat below.
After about twenty minutes, Alaric stopped. He sat back, took a deep breath, and wiped his face. His muscles felt warm, a little sore but that was the exact feeling he craved.
When the final set ended, he leaned back on the bench. His body soaked in sweat, but his eyes were clear with satisfaction. He had hit his training goals today. He felt more alive.
Alaric took the towel from his shoulder and wiped the sweat from his neck and face. He stood up slowly, stretching his arms.
"Not bad," he said quietly.
"But that's enough," he added, arms wide in a relaxed stretch. "Still got a few minutes before meeting Dony."
He walked slowly to the gym door, with only one thing on his mind: a quick shower to freshen up.