Inside the office.
The curtains were half drawn.
Heavy fabric pressed down the light from outside, reducing it into a muted gray-white layer that spread across the floor and desk. The edges were cut clean, as if measured and fixed in place.
The air was still.
No sign of natural circulation.
The central air system operated at a low frequency. A constant mechanical hum lingered beneath everything, like a thin membrane stretched over hearing—not sharp, but always present.
Seven sat at the desk.
Back straight.
Shoulders level.
Chin slightly lowered.
The data terminal on his wrist glowed quietly. A blue ring expanded and contracted in steady rhythm.
Across from him, Green leaned slightly forward, eyes fixed on the light screen.
At the center of the display was a nearly straight line.
No peaks.
No valleys.
The fluctuation was so minimal that the system had compressed it into a thin thread. Even when the timeline was extended, the line remained anchored within the median range.
Seven spoke.
"Mr. Green, my ability training is no longer producing significant results. The data remains consistent, and there is little value left to collect."
His tone was calm.
Volume moderate.
The words fell and did not echo.
Green did not respond immediately.
He reached out and enlarged the data range.
The timeline moved forward.
One month.
Three months.
Half a year.
The curve stayed close to the center line.
He switched to multi-layer overlay mode.
Records from different periods stacked together.
The lines overlapped.
Error was nearly invisible.
In the upper right corner, the floating tolerance value approached its lower limit.
Green looked up at Seven.
"Your stability has already exceeded the average standard for your grade."
His tone remained even.
Seven did not respond.
His gaze stayed on the edge of the desk.
Stability meant no new amplitude.
Training output would no longer produce abnormal fluctuations.
Values had begun to close in on themselves.
"You could graduate now, and no one would say anything."
Green's voice was light.
A statement, not a suggestion.
Seven's gaze did not shift.
"Then instead of continuing independent training, I propose using my ability to assist others in their training."
The air seemed to pause for a moment.
Green's fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
A brief glint passed through his eyes.
Assist.
That meant stability would be reassigned.
That meant the straight line would enter other people's fluctuating graphs.
That meant the data would regain function.
Green sat upright.
The chair back gave a faint friction sound.
"That is indeed a good idea."
He closed the current display layer.
"I will propose it to the administration."
Seven nodded.
The motion was minimal.
The center of his role shifted quietly.
From an isolated subject of observation
to a stabilizing point within others' fluctuations.
Outside, the light moved slightly.
The angle of shadows on the desk adjusted.
The conversation ended.
No additional explanation.
The decision had already formed.
—
Experimental Building.
Ability Training Room.
The space was sealed.
Walls thick.
Embedded with multiple layers of energy-buffering materials.
Floor sensors operated at low frequency.
The air temperature was slightly low.
Lighting even.
Seven stood at the edge of the field.
His earpiece connected to the monitoring channel.
"Subject 68 unstable. High probability of overload."
The voice carried faint electrical noise.
Seven responded.
"Received. Moving to assist."
He stepped forward.
Footsteps steady.
Rhythm consistent.
Subject 68 stood at the center.
Breathing rapid.
Chest rising and falling sharply.
Small arcs of electricity flickered across his skin.
Fingers trembled.
On the monitoring screen, the fluctuation curve surged upward in jagged spikes.
Seven approached his side.
Raised his hand.
Barrier deployed.
No light.
No sound.
A transparent boundary formed around them.
Tension established.
"Subject 68 impact resistance ready. Continue training."
A brief pause through the earpiece.
"Confirmed."
Lightning erupted.
Blue-white arcs burst outward, striking the inner surface of the barrier.
Low, heavy impacts sounded in succession.
Vibrations spread along the boundary.
The edge of Seven's clothing lifted under the airflow.
Fine ripples appeared across the barrier surface.
The current was redirected, sliding along the inner boundary, then guided downward into the floor's buffering system.
The ground trembled faintly.
Subject 68's body locked rigid.
Shoulders tightened.
Teeth clenched.
Electric arcs intertwined into a dense net.
The smell of burning filled the air.
Seconds passed.
The overload continued.
Currents struck repeatedly.
The barrier held.
Seven's breathing remained even.
Arms steady.
Joints fixed at precise angles.
Ripples spread.
Contracted.
Spread again.
Energy diminished layer by layer.
Finally—
Subject 68's knees gave out.
His body tilted forward.
The electric arcs dissipated.
The air stabilized.
The barrier remained.
Seven confirmed vital signs.
The earpiece transmitted.
"Vitals stable."
Time passed slowly.
The burnt scent in the air gradually faded.
After several minutes, Subject 68 opened his eyes.
Pupils adjusted slowly.
"What happened? Did my ability go out of control?"
His voice was weak.
Seven answered calmly.
"It's stable now. Remember what you felt just now. Your ability will become more controlled."
Subject 68 frowned slightly, recalling.
"…Got it. Thanks."
He sat up slowly.
No more electrical arcs appeared.
Seven withdrew the barrier.
Airflow returned.
Overload type.
No awareness of personal limit.
The earpiece sounded again.
"Subject 21 unstable."
Seven turned.
"Received."
Subject 21 stood at the far side.
Face pale.
Forehead covered in cold sweat.
Breathing shallow and rapid.
Shoulders trembling slightly.
The monitoring screen showed physical exhaustion nearing its limit, yet ability output was still being forced.
Seven approached.
He did not deploy a barrier immediately.
"You should take time to rest."
His voice was low.
"Training harder does not always lead to improvement."
Subject 21's lips were pale.
He still attempted to continue.
Seven pressed his earpiece.
"Recommend Subject 21 cease training."
A brief pause.
"Confirmed."
Subject 21's body slackened slightly.
His knees weakened.
Seven reached out and supported him.
Stabilized his center of gravity.
Did not let him fall.
Breathing gradually slowed.
Overexertion type.
Not overload.
Seven remained at his side until medical staff took over.
The earpiece activated again.
"Subject 57 unstable."
Seven responded.
"Received."
Subject 57 stood within the boundary line.
Posture normal.
Breathing slightly elevated.
Heart rate mildly increased.
Ability fluctuation irregular.
Seven looked at her.
Did not act immediately.
He closed his eyes.
Second-stage mind reading activated.
His awareness brushed against the edges of her thoughts.
Fragments surfaced.
Conflict.
Discomfort.
Emotional disturbance.
Seven opened his eyes.
"Personal emotional issues can affect ability stability. Recommend resolving them as soon as possible."
Subject 57 paused.
A faint flush appeared on her face.
No rebuttal.
Seven spoke into the mic.
"No overload risk. Recommend light training."
Confirmation returned.
Training continued.
—
Seven stood at the center of the field.
A buffer between fluctuations.
Lightning.
Fatigue.
Emotion.
Different forms of instability passed through him.
Barrier deployed.
Withdrawn.
Assessment.
Suggestion.
Each action precise.
The lighting remained cold white.
The air remained dry.
Monitoring curves slid across the screens, intersecting, diverging.
Seven's data remained stable.
But no longer isolated.
It entered the fluctuation layers of others.
It became boundary.
It became support.
A new number came through the earpiece.
Seven raised his eyes.
"Received."
Then stepped forward.