The room was dim, lit only by the soft hum of the terminal screen. Snowflakes still kissed the glass window, but Om wasn't shivering. Not anymore.
He stood silently in front of the mirror. The boy looking back at him wasn't the same.
His pupils were sharper—almost feline. His skin no longer held that dull pale tone. His hair seemed thicker, darker, even his posture more balanced—like his body had subtly realigned itself.
The silence broke.
[Master Om, diagnostics complete.]
Om turned toward the interface glowing in the air beside him. "So?"
[Integration successful. No rejection symptoms. Your system is functioning at 123% above baseline human performance.]
{In short, you're not soft anymore, kid.} The Whip hung lazily around his shoulder like a snake sunbathing on a rock.
"What changed exactly?" Om asked. He rotated his wrist and flexed his fingers. His movements felt… precise.
[Primary enhancements include elevated sensory response: your sight now adapts instantly to light changes. Your hearing can isolate frequencies. You can track faint vibrations from movement across the floor within a radius of ten meters.]
Om blinked slowly. "So I can sense footsteps?"
[Yes. Even the smallest shifts in air pressure.]
"And reflexes?"
[Improved by approximately 4.6 times the average human response time.]
"So if someone throws a punch?"
{You'll move before they even finish the thought.}
Om smiled faintly.
"I noticed I'm thinking faster too," he muttered.
[Your brain now forms synaptic connections 2.3 times faster than before. Your cognitive load is being partially supported by me. This enables near-instant environmental processing.]
{Basically, you've got a cheat code. You're not superhuman yet, but you'll definitely feel like one.}
Om walked to the center of the room and suddenly closed his eyes.
The world didn't go dark. Instead, it slowed.
Every tick of the wall-mounted clock felt drawn out. A drip from the tap in the corner hit the basin with a sluggish splash. He could feel the subtle static in the air from the active energy systems of the facility. He knew there was someone walking two floors above him.
He opened his eyes.
"Perception," he whispered. "Everything feels… bigger."
[Your brain is perceiving more data per moment. Time feels slower because your response speed has increased. It's not the world that's slower—it's you who's faster.]
{Careful. That's the kind of thing that makes people go mad.} the Whip chuckled, wrapping itself tighter.
Om didn't speak for a moment. He walked to his desk, picked up a pen, and wrote a sentence in under half a second. No smudge. No hesitation.
"I feel like I've stepped into someone else's body."
[It is still yours. Just—optimized.]
{So, Zero, what's next?}
[Training.]
Om looked toward the mirror again, brows furrowing.
"I need to be ready for what's coming," he said. "Now the difficulties are removed to some extent."
"I believe like his last battle he is not going to give us chance to get better of him. "
"And next time—what if he doesn't hold back?"
[Then neither should you.]
{Damn right. He don't know how far you've come.}
{But still… I don't think you're his match.}
Om paused. "Why?"
{You've been enhanced. Physically. But him—his control over his Inheritance is too refined.}
A heavy pause.
{And his... other side...}
Om's voice dropped.
"Let's not talk about that."
He stared at his hand again.
The same hand that once trembled, unable to hold his grandfather's ashes, now felt like a weapon.
He exhaled.
The new shell was ready.
And time was running out.
Two days till the battle.