I stand my ground as the three Consortium fighters approach, their crystalline implants catching the facility's harsh lighting and casting prismatic reflections across the walls. The lead woman's growths are more extensive than her companions', suggesting higher rank or longer enhancement.

  "Subject 7249," she addresses me formally, her voice carrying a slight resonant quality that seems common among Consortium assets. "I am Prism, designated combat specialist for the Crystalline Consortium."

  "Just Gary now," I correct her, continuing my telekinetic exercise with the metal spheres, though I add more to the rotation to subtly demonstrate my control. "Independent asset, apparently."

  Around us, the other facility users maintain their positions, watching the interaction with wary attention. Training has effectively stopped, everyone focused on the potential confrontation.

  Prism studies me with cold assessment. "Your rejection of sponsorship was... unexpected. The Consortium rarely experiences refusal, especially from assets with your potential."

  "Should I feel flattered?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral while increasing the complexity of my sphere pattern.

  Her crystal implants pulse briefly with blue-white energy. "The Consortium has instructed me to inform you that our offer remains open. Your independence is respected but unnecessary. We provide superior development without the... limitations you might be anticipating."

  Vex makes a small sound that might be amusement. Iris's scales flash a warning pattern that suggests skepticism.

  "Thanks for the message," I reply, deliberately focusing on my practice rather than giving Prism my full attention. "I'll consider it."

  One of Prism's companions, a stocky man with crystalline formations along his forearms, steps forward. "You misunderstand. This courtesy is temporary. Reconsider now, while the opportunity exists."

  I stop the floating spheres in mid-rotation and turn my full attention to them. "Is there something else I can help you with? I've got limited training time in this facility."

  Prism's expression hardens slightly. "Independence is a difficult path, 7249. Especially for those who've attracted attention. The Consortium offers protection that you may soon find necessary."

  The threat isn't subtle. I notice Vex and Iris exchanging glances, some unspoken communication passing between them.

  "I appreciate the concern," I respond, "but I've made my choice for now."

  Prism takes a step closer. "Perhaps a demonstration would clarify the advantages of Consortium enhancement." Without warning, she extends her hand, and the crystalline formations on her palm pulse with energy.

  The air between us vibrates as a wave of crystalline energy ripples outward. Before I can react, the metal spheres I've been manipulating crystallize instantly, becoming brittle and shattering as they fall to the floor.

  "Molecular restructuring," she explains with cold satisfaction. "One of many advanced applications available to properly sponsored assets."

  I keep my expression neutral despite the impressive display. "Interesting trick."

  "This isn't a game, 7249," the stocky man growls. "The arena awaits all of us eventually. Without proper training, you'll become nothing more than entertainment for the aliens."

  Iris steps slightly closer to me, her scales shifting to aggressive coloration. "He's made his choice. Consortium has no authority in Facility 7."

  "For now," Prism responds, her eyes never leaving mine. "Remember, 7249, independent assets with potential rarely remain independent for long. Either they recognize the wisdom of sponsorship..." Her crystal implants pulse again. "Or they encounter complications."

  With that final implied threat, she turns and gestures to her companions. As they move toward the exit, Prism looks back once. "We'll be watching your development with interest."

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  When the door closes behind them, the tension in the facility gradually dissipates. Training resumes, though conversations remain hushed.

  "Well," Vex says dryly, "you've certainly made an impression. Consortium doesn't usually bother with recruitment visits."

  Iris's scales settle back into their neutral coloration. "They're worried. Your performance against Fissure showed too much potential for someone to develop outside their control."

  I look down at the crystallized fragments of the metal spheres, now useless for training. "Seems I've made some powerful friends already."

  "Welcome to independence," Vex says with a grim smile.

  I stare down at the crystallized remains of the training spheres, mildly annoyed. Typical snotty brat move, show up, flex, and leave us with less than we started with. The other independents are already adapting around the loss, clearly used to making do with less.

  But I’m not ready to accept this.

  "Can this be fixed?" I ask Iris, nodding toward the shattered remains.

  She shrugs, her iridescent scales shifting to a doubtful pattern. "Molecular restructuring is usually permanent. Even if you could reassemble the pieces, the internal density would be compromised."

  I crouch down, extending my telekinetic awareness into the crystallized fragments. The molecular structure has indeed been altered, the formerly solid metal reorganized into a fragile crystalline lattice. But maybe that's not irreversible.

  "Give me some space," I tell Iris and Vex, who step back with curious expressions.

  Focusing my telekinetic energy, I gather all the shattered fragments into a floating cluster before me. I can sense each piece, each altered molecule. The Consortium fighter changed their structure, but the original elements remain, just in a different configuration.

  I close my eyes, concentrating on breaking the crystalline bonds while maintaining awareness of the original molecular pattern. Sweat beads on my forehead as I apply precise telekinetic pressure at the atomic level, forcing the structure to revert.

  "Holy shit," Vex mutters as the fragments begin to glow slightly from the friction of molecular reorganization.

  The crystalline structure resists, but I push harder, visualizing the correct metallic bonds and forcing the atoms to realign. My head throbs with the effort, this is far more intensive than simple object manipulation.

  Gradually, the fragments soften and begin to flow together, the crystal reverting to liquid metal as I maintain the heat generated by molecular friction. With careful control, I reshape the molten material back into perfect spheres, then slowly allow them to cool while maintaining their form.

  Five newly reconstructed metal spheres hover before me, gleaming under the harsh facility lights. They're not exactly like the originals, subtle patterns swirl across their surfaces where the molecular structure fought against restructuring, but they're functional again.

  I lower them gently to the ground, a wave of fatigue creeping in. That level of molecular manipulation took more out of me than I expected.

  "Well, fuck me sideways," Iris says, her scales flashing with impressed patterns. "That’s not basic telekinesis."

  A small crowd of independents has gathered, watching with varying expressions of surprise and interest. Vex picks up one of the restored spheres, examining it closely.

  "Molecular reconstruction," he says quietly. "No wonder the Consortium wants you. That’s high-tier manipulation, usually only possible with their crystal enhancements."

  I shrug, trying to downplay the effort despite my pounding headache. "They broke it. Seemed fair to fix it."

  An older woman with faint electrical currents visible beneath her skin steps forward from the gathered independents. "That was impressive, new blood, but risky. Demonstrating unusual abilities draws attention, especially capabilities that shouldn’t be possible without sponsor enhancements."

  "Already rejected their offer," I reply. "What more can they do?"

  Several of the independents exchange knowing looks.

  "There’s ways to force compliance," the electrical woman says. "Or neutralize threats to their paradigm. Independent assets who show too much potential sometimes disappear to 'specialized training facilities.'"

  Vex hands me a water container. "Drink. Such intense psychic work depletes electrolytes fast."

  As I rehydrate, I notice the monitoring devices in the ceiling have all oriented toward my position, their tracking lights more intense than before. My little display didn’t go unnoticed by facility security.

  "Maybe keep the more impressive shit under wraps until tonight’s meeting," Vex suggests quietly. "Marcus will want to know what you can do, but better to share that information off the official grid."

  I nod, understanding the warning. For the remainder of my training session, I focus on basic telekinetic exercises, deliberately keeping my power display within expected parameters. The other independents gradually return to their own training, though I catch occasional glances of reappraisal.

  As my designated training period nears its end, Iris approaches again. "Not bad for your first day down here. Just remember, independence means being selective about who sees your true capabilities."

  I think about Nova, about Marcus, about the Consortium representatives. Everyone has their own agenda in this place, their own use for someone with my abilities. Independence might mean limited resources and greater danger, but at least I get to choose which fights are mine.