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Chapter 16 — Friction

  The second session was worse than the first.

  Ren understood that before Kellan even spoke.

  All he had to do was look at his posture.

  Yesterday, Kellan had tested him.

  Today…

  …he was going to work him.

  “You’re late on your guard.”

  The remark fell calmly.

  Ren adjusted his arms almost immediately, his shoulders already heavy despite the warm-up. His body was still protesting from yesterday—not enough to stop him from moving, but enough that every motion required a fraction more effort.

  He felt it everywhere.

  In his still-stiff thighs.

  In his tight shoulders.

  In that dull fatigue that refused to fully fade.

  Kellan took a slow step around him.

  Pure observation.

  “Breathe.”

  Ren exhaled slowly through his nose, trying to stabilize his rhythm. It didn’t come naturally. His instinct, whenever pressure rose, was to tense up.

  Bad habit.

  Very bad.

  He knew that now.

  “We go again,” Kellan said.

  Then he moved.

  The first exchange came without warning.

  Not a brutal rush.

  A clean test.

  Left straight.

  Ren saw it coming.

  Earlier than before.

  His foot pivoted.

  His torso followed.

  The impact brushed his guard instead of breaking through.

  A clear improvement.

  But Kellan immediately chained.

  Short right.

  Then a feint.

  Then a low return.

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  The tempo climbed.

  Ren tried to follow.

  For a few seconds…

  …it held.

  Not clean.

  Not elegant.

  But he was reading better than before.

  [Echo Compatibility — activity increasing]

  That familiar sensation pulsed behind his temples.

  Stronger than in previous days.

  Like a foreign muscle memory slowly trying to align with his own.

  He moved.

  Again.

  One step too short.

  One pivot almost correct.

  Then—

  Impact.

  The strike slipped through his guard.

  His side took it.

  — Hrk—

  Ren staggered half a step back, teeth clenched.

  Kellan didn’t slow.

  “You hesitated.”

  Of course.

  Ren already knew.

  That micro-delay.

  That moment of uncertainty.

  That was where everything was decided.

  They reset.

  Time gradually blurred.

  Exchange after exchange.

  Correction after correction.

  The room around them continued to live—bags creaking, footsteps echoing, low voices—but for Ren, everything narrowed.

  Tunnel vision.

  Heavy breathing.

  Constant analysis.

  His world reduced to:

  Kellan’s shoulders.

  The rotation of his hips.

  The angle of his footing.

  And the pressure in his skull…

  …slowly rising.

  [Mental load: moderate → high]

  Sweat began to run down the back of his neck.

  His arms were getting heavier.

  But something else was happening in parallel.

  Subtle.

  But undeniable.

  He was reading better.

  Not enough to win.

  Far from it.

  But enough to survive a little longer.

  Kellan noticed.

  Of course he noticed.

  His eyes narrowed slightly mid-exchange.

  …

  Then he accelerated.

  The pressure spiked brutally.

  High feint.

  Short hook.

  Foot sweep.

  Ren tried to follow.

  His body responded—

  Too slowly.

  The strike got through.

  A sharp impact against his ribs.

  — KH—!

  The air left his lungs.

  His vision wavered for a fraction of a second.

  And in that microsecond—

  The Echo pulsed harder.

  [Unstable resonance detected]

  Compatibility: 6.9%

  An image burst briefly through his mind.

  Crushing heat.

  Sand underfoot.

  A massive silhouette advancing through an enemy line.

  Then—

  A brutal return to reality.

  Ren moved on pure instinct.

  Cleaner pivot.

  Barely-there evasion.

  This time, the strike missed.

  A real brief silence fell around the ring.

  Kellan stopped dead.

  His eyes opened by a millimeter.

  “…Okay.”

  Not impressed.

  But clearly more attentive.

  Ren, meanwhile, was already shaking.

  His breathing had deteriorated.

  His head was pounding dangerously.

  And his legs…

  …were starting to destabilize.

  He could feel it.

  He was nearing today’s limit.

  Kellan saw it too.

  Of course.

  He stepped back.

  Not to stop.

  To judge.

  “Two more minutes.”

  Ren’s heart tightened.

  Two minutes…

  …were going to be long.

  Very long.

  But he nodded.

  “…Okay.”

  And they went again.

  This time, the fatigue hit fast.

  Too fast.

  His timing slipped slightly.

  His footing grew less sharp.

  His guard rose a fraction too late—

  Impact.

  Full chest.

  Ren folded violently.

  His knees nearly hit the mat before he caught himself.

  His throat tightened.

  A wave of nausea surged up.

  He swallowed it down just in time.

  The silence around the ring had changed.

  Less noise.

  More attention.

  And from the walkway—

  A cold gaze still watched.

  Motionless.

  Analytical.

  Ren inhaled with difficulty.

  Forced his body upright.

  His arms were shaking badly now.

  But his eyes…

  …remained locked on Kellan.

  Always.

  Kellan exhaled slowly.

  Then gave a single nod.

  “That’s enough.”

  The word dropped like a clean cut.

  The tension released all at once.

  [Training session — validated]

  Echo Compatibility: 7.1%

  Ren stayed standing for a few more seconds.

  Just to prove to his own body that he was still holding.

  Only then did he slightly relax his shoulders.

  His breathing was heavy.

  His muscles burned.

  But deep in his chest…

  Something had anchored itself a little deeper.

  Kellan grabbed a towel as he passed.

  Then, without looking directly at him:

  “Come back tomorrow.”

  Ren blinked.

  Surprised despite himself.

  Kellan added, tone neutral:

  “We can work with that.”

  Then he was already walking away.

  As if it were obvious.

  Ren stood still for a second.

  Then his fingers slowly tightened.

  …Yeah.

  It was moving forward.

  Slowly.

  Painfully.

  But it was moving.

  And somewhere in the depths of Unlimited Evolution Human Potential…

  …the system continued observing its subject’s evolution with growing interest.

  [Status: trajectory confirmed.]

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