Zeph spent the next three hours relearning how to move.
How to walk without overshooting every step.
How to turn without spinning out.
How to reach for objects without sending them flying.
How to EXIST at speeds that would make professional awakened jealous.
And when he wanted to move FAST…
He crossed his entire apartment—wall to wall, fifteen feet—in 0.2 seconds.
'This is what geniuses with inherited advantages feel like. This is the kind of speed that makes fights fundamentally unfair.'
'This is what I need to survive.'
The skill books sat on his table, waiting. Two leather-bound tomes that would dissolve into knowledge when opened, integrating directly with his System interface.
Accumulated Disaster. Momentum Overflow.
Tomorrow, he'd fuse them.
Tonight, he'd learn them individually. Understand their mechanics. Figure out exactly how they'd combine.
But first…
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
