He turned his gaze to the hidden figures, no longer seeking them out, but knowing precisely where they were. His voice, now calm and even, carried clearly through the hushed building.
"You witnessed this," John stated, his tone devoid of anger or triumph, simply fact. "Elias believed he could force his own pattern. He believed impatience, and disruption, would serve him. He was wrong."
He paused, letting his words sink into the petrified silence. "Anya's progress, for those of you who observed closely, came from consistent effort and patience. Not from attempting to subvert the process, or from acting rashly. My help will be extended. But it will be on my terms, and my schedule."
John's eyes swept across the shadows, his voice hardening just enough to convey an undeniable threat. "Interfere with my plans, or attempt to force my hand, and you will find the consequences far more... disruptive... than you can possibly imagine. Your patience will be rewarded. Your recklessness will be met with a swift, and silent, correction."
He knelt beside Elias's body, a final, cold gesture. "Understand this: the League demands survival. And I am simply demonstrating the most effective way to ensure it."
With that, John didn't wait for anyone else to speak. He simply gestured towards the door. "Now leave. I need some time alone."
There was a slight hesitation among the hidden trainees, then a scuffle as someone dropped from the ceiling, moving quickly but without looking at John, and pushed the door open. Others followed right behind, a silent exodus of terrified witnesses. As the last person walked out, John's calm voice could be heard, a chilling farewell to the emptying room: "Good night, everyone."
With the door shutting closed, John immediately turned off his adrenal state. To his surprise, he wasn't welcomed by the familiar gnawing hunger. Instead, he felt a different kind of drain: his Chi was now remarkably low, almost completely depleted.
His thought was quickly overtaken once his eyes fell upon Elias's dead body lying on the ground. John felt his stomach churn, a wave of nausea washing over him as he remembered the sensation of taking a life. He dropped to the floor, breathing heavily, his body shaking uncontrollably.
Yet, despite his visceral reaction to the act of killing, John felt his mood was, strangely, better. The immediate reason was clear: he had solved the issue that had disrupted his pattern. He had identified the source of the chaos and, at the same time, ensured that such an issue would no longer be a problem. His meticulously planned routine was now safe from external, human interference.
As for how John knew Elias killed Anya, it all became clear when he broke everything down to why someone would implicate him in Anya's death. His analytical mind, despite the emotional chaos, was quick to dissect the situation.
It boiled down to two possibilities. One: to damage his reputation, either out of jealousy for his rapid progress, hoping the League would deal with him directly. The other: it was done for the sole reason of survival and the need to eliminate a competitor.
This logical breakdown led John to the realization of his own critical oversight. He hadn't accounted for "humans and their emotions" in his meticulously planned life and routine. John had made a profound mistake when he blindly assumed the other trainees were simple variables who would seamlessly fit into his elaborate scheme for training and discovering more of his new powers.
He had focused on the mechanics of his power, the quantifiable outputs, the predictable reactions of a biological system under duress. He had treated the other trainees as mere extensions of his experiment, subjects to be observed, their behavior a direct result of his own input. He had seen their desperation, their ambition, but had failed to fully integrate the volatile, irrational, and self-preserving nature of individual human beings into his pattern.
Anya's death wasn't a random act; it was simply consequence of human jealousy, fear, and ruthless competition, all amplified by the brutal environment of the League. Elias, driven by his own desperate need for an edge, had simply seen an opportunity, an exploitable weakness he believed John had created. John had mistakenly assumed that because he viewed Anya as a tool, others would see her merely as a target for observation, not elimination.
This oversight was a fundamental flaw in his pattern recognition. It was a variable he had not anticipated, an element that could, if left unchecked, derail his entire trajectory. This world like his past one wasn't just a series of logical inputs and outputs; it was a web of motivations, some rational, many deeply irrational, all capable of shattering his meticulously constructed routines.
The solution, however, was now brutally clear considering the world. He couldn't eliminate the "human equation," but he could certainly account for it. Elias's fate was a stark demonstration, a new rule accounted into the pattern. Control wasn't just about his own abilities; it was about shaping the environment around him, making the unpredictable predictable through decisive, often terrifying, action.
Not in any mood to train further, John looked down at the dead body of Elias. His body was physically shaking, recoiling from the act, but his mind remained a pristine, chilling calm. The pattern had been re-established.
He was looking forward to tomorrow, eager to compensate for the learning he'd missed today. As for Elias's body, John would leave that to the League. They had their protocols; he had merely served their purpose.
As John walked away, a figure stepped silently into the room, looking down at Elias's corpse. Ra's al Ghul, hidden in the shadows murmured, "Interesting."
To John's surprise, the night brought no nightmares, no restless tossing or turning. He slept soundly, waking at his usual time, refreshed and clear-headed. Getting ready with his customary efficiency, he then made his way to the canteen.
John noticed the change immediately. The canteen, usually a low hum of conversation, was eerily quiet. Nobody was willing to look him in the eye. Even those who hadn't been present last night must have gotten the word, as they kept their distance, eyes darting away if his gaze lingered.
John didn't mind. He would give it some time. Once the initial shock wore off and they realized how crucial he was to their survival, he'd have plenty of test subjects lined up, ready to follow his instructions.
He felt a relaxed calm as he walked into the hall, a stark contrast to the previous day's turmoil. Even the other trainees, though still visibly shaken, forced themselves into a semblance of peace. This was likely the last moment of quiet respite they'd have before returning to the brutal standard training.
Sitting down in his assigned position, John observed Sensei. This time, Sensei didn't focus on him first. Instead, he addressed the entire room. "Considering this will be my last day teaching you, let me offer some knowledge on the division of Chi training."
"First are the beginners, a stage most of you haven't truly reached yet," Sensei began, his gaze sweeping over the room. "This is where you awaken. You establish contact with your own Chi, that subtle, living current flowing within you. It's like feeling a faint warmth or a gentle hum just beneath your skin. At this level, you can superficially make it move with your will, coaxing it from your core to a limb, achieving basic purposes like alleviating minor pain or accelerating simple wound closure."
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