After you recover your energy, we can continue testing," Anya said. "We'll check how long it takes for you to get used to different materials and determine the limits of your ability."
Ryan nodded, listening carefully.
"In the meantime," she continued, "you should visit the place where the incident happened. Understand what went wrong there. You'll likely need to return to that location in the future."
The implication was clear enough. This was not a one-time visit.
Ryan hesitated. The idea of going back alone unsettled him more than he expected. He had already seen what that place could lead to. Silence stretched for a moment before he spoke.
"…I'm not sure I should go by myself."
Watson noticed immediately. "I'll accompany you," he said, without hesitation.
Ryan looked up, surprised. Then he nodded, relief flickering across his face. "Thanks."
They didn't waste time. Once Ryan had rested enough to move without strain, Watson led him out of the testing area and down the corridor. Their footsteps echoed softly against the reinforced flooring, fading as they turned the corner and disappeared from view.
Anya watched them leave, her expression unreadable.
Once they were gone, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She dialed a number she rarely used. The call connected after a single ring.
"What is it, Captain?" a voice asked on the other end.
"It's regarding yesterday's incident," Anya replied. "Specifically, the victim."
There was a brief pause. "What about him? Did he fail to awaken? Or did he awaken something… problematic?"
"You don't need to concern yourself with that," Anya said evenly. "Update his name in the headquarters file and mark him as a special-grade strategic officer."
Silence followed.
Several seconds passed with no response.
"Hello?" Anya said. "Are you still there?"
"I'm here, Captain," the voice said slowly. "But… special-grade strategic officer? That position doesn't exist in our system."
"It does," Anya replied coldly. "You simply don't have the clearance to see it. Do as instructed."
Another pause, shorter this time. "Understood."
Before ending the call, Anya added, "Send me his complete life file. No omissions."
"Yes, Captain."
The line went dead.
Anya lowered the phone and stood still for a moment, considering. The Christopher incident had left more questions than answers, and Ryan's awakening had only deepened her unease. Abilities with dangerous potential required oversight. That much she believed without reservation.
Her phone vibrated a minute later. An email notification.
She opened it and began to read.
The file was thorough. Dates, records, medical history, academic performance, employment logs. Everything compiled cleanly, without gaps.
Ryan Greed was born to an ordinary middle-class couple. Both parents had married young and struggled financially from the start. They lived modestly, rarely exceeding their means, and by all accounts maintained a stable household.
Ryan had been a strong student. His academic records showed consistent top rankings through middle school. Teachers' notes described him as disciplined, reserved, and focused. There were no behavioral issues, no recorded incidents.
That changed in his ninth-grade year.
His parents were involved in a traffic accident. His mother died at the scene. His father survived, but with severe spinal injuries that left him unable to walk.
Medical expenses mounted quickly.
At the time, Ryan was still a child. The file noted a sharp decline in attendance and grades over the following months. Relatives and family friends initially assisted with care and expenses, but support dwindled as it became clear his father's condition would not improve.
A year later, his father passed away.
Ryan dropped out of school soon after.
Insurance covered part of the debt, but not all of it. The remaining amount followed him into adulthood. Employment records showed a series of short-term jobs. Manual labor. Warehouse work. Night shifts. None of them lasted long, but together they kept him afloat.
There were no criminal records. No disciplinary actions. No unexplained gaps.
When he was twenty-one, he joined a local gym as a general staff member. The file noted consistent attendance and above-average physical performance. Several years later, a trainer position opened. Ryan qualified easily and accepted the offer.
The salary was stable. Combined with commission, it allowed him to clear the remainder of his debts and improve his living conditions modestly. For the first time in years, his records showed financial consistency.
Now thirty-three, he had been working as a trainer for two years.
Anya finished reading and closed the file.
There was nothing unusual in it. No signs of instability. No hints of ambition or resentment. Just a long stretch of endurance under pressure, followed by a quiet attempt at rebuilding.
She set the phone down.
Moments later, footsteps approached from the corridor. Ryan and Watson returned, their expressions neutral, the visit evidently uneventful.
As she looked up at them, the file remained open on her screen, its contents fresh in her mind.