— CLANG!
The sound of metal clattering onto the floor rang throughout the training room. Helios stood still, arms crossed, his piercing gaze locked onto Amon—who was visibly struggling to control one of the floating spikes.
"This is… much harder… than… I ex—pected…" Amon managed to force out between ragged breaths, sweat dripping from his forehead.
Helios exhaled through his nose and made a small gesture with his finger. The spike that had fallen immediately lifted off the floor and returned neatly to the table beside him.
"It was your mistake for underestimating how much psionic pulse is required to initiate control," Helios said flatly.
This was already Amon's third attempt, and each time he had insisted he could handle it. Helios, however, knew better. To humble him, he allowed the boy to fail—and the lesson hit harder than any lecture could.
"Ah… I was… way… too… cocky…" Amon admitted weakly as he sank to his knees, chest heaving. The toll was heavier than he imagined—not just physically, but mentally too. Every attempt left his mind feeling as though it had been squeezed dry.
Damn it… I should've expected this. Even telekinesis users in the shows I've watched struggled when they first started! he thought bitterly.
Helios waited silently, giving Amon time to recover. The man's patience was unnerving, almost mechanical. Roughly twenty percent of the allotted training time slipped away just from Amon catching his breath—but Helios didn't complain once.
When Amon finally looked steady enough, Helios spoke again. "We'll start from the basics. You've experienced the consequences of unrestrained psionic use, so it's time to learn properly."
Amon nodded quickly—he didn't want to relive that agony again.
Once the lesson began, Helios explained everything about the NEXUS, the nature of a Hexacaust, and most importantly, the concept of the psionic pulse. Though Amon's body still ached, his mind devoured every bit of information, quietly committing it all to memory.
The psionic pulse, as Helios described it, was an invisible energy that resonated within the mind—almost like a heartbeat for consciousness itself. It acted as a natural shield against mental interference, protecting one's mind from external or otherworldly attacks. But beyond that, it was also the very foundation that allowed NEXUS users to manipulate technology through thought.
In essence, it was both armor and weapon—a bridge between human will and machine function.
It took three long hours before Amon could even barely make one spike hover for twelve seconds straight. Sweat covered him again, but this time, Helios gave a small approving nod.
"Progress," he said simply.
Amon blinked in surprise. "Progress? I barely lasted twelve seconds!"
Helios turned his back slightly, hands behind him. "There is no genius who instantly understands the psionic pulse and executes complex maneuvers. The mind must comprehend and adapt to the pulse before it can control it. Only then can a prodigy truly emerge."
The words hit Amon like a revelation. Nobody could just wake up from surgery and start controlling fleets of mechs or entire cities with a wave of their hand. The process required patience—mental endurance, growth, and time.
"Wait," Amon asked after a moment, curiosity sparking in his tone. "What if someone started psionic training on children instead? Wouldn't that make them adapt faster?"
"They die."
The bluntness in Helios' answer sent a chill down Amon's spine.
"There's a reason," Helios continued, "why NEXUS surgery is restricted to those eighteen and older. Anyone younger—even by a few days—faces catastrophic mind instability. The psionic pulse overwhelms them, destroying the neural pathways. If it doesn't kill them, it leaves them crippled."
Amon swallowed hard. That was… horrifying.
So there were no "child prodigies" in this world—no miracle cases of raw, natural power. There were only those who survived, adapted, and endured the long, painful process of syncing with their psionic pulse.
(Amon's POV)
By the time the training session ended, I could barely stand. I dragged myself back to my room, switched into something more comfortable, and collapsed face-first onto the bed.
"…I think I need to sleep now," I muttered into the pillow.
But of course, peace didn't last long.
[Notice!]
[NEXUS has leveled up!]
"Huh?" My eyes shot open immediately. "Wait—really!?"
In an instant, exhaustion vanished. My heart pounded as I scrambled upright, eyes gleaming with excitement.
[Name: Amon]
[Age: 18]
[Race: Pseudo-Human]
– Proficiency with Psionic Pulse and NEXUS increased.
[NEXUS Type: Hexacaust]
[NEXUS Lvl: 1]
[NEXUS Skills:]
1: —
2: —
3: —
[Shop]
[Inventory]
[Quests]
"Oh, hell yes! Shop and Quests?!" I practically jumped on the bed.
These were familiar systems—classic RPG-style menus I'd read about in the novels and games of my old life. Except this time… it was real.
"Wait…" I paused. "Wouldn't that mean I'll get forced into random missions?"
A cold sweat ran down my back at the thought—but then, the system replied almost instantly.
[This system exists to aid the host, not to force the host into risky situations!]
Okay, seems like even the system gets mad...
"Heh… alright, alright," I chuckled, amused by how petty my own system could be.
"What does the Quest option do, then?" I asked aloud.
[The Quest option displays a list of tasks that allow the host to gain Credits.]
[Some quests, labeled as
[However,
[They are optional, but the rewards are often extremely valuable.]
I hummed, leaning back against the wall. "So basically… not forced, but still tempting enough to make me take them anyway."
The system didn't respond. Which meant—yeah—I was right on the money.
"Tsk." I clicked my tongue. "So it's 'reward-tripping,' huh? Manipulating me with shiny loot. Classic."
I could feel the silence from the system, like it was side-eyeing me through the screen.
I sighed. "Fine, fine. Let's check the Shop next."
[Shop]
[Basic Gear Kit] [Req. NEXUS Lv. 2]
– Contains standard NEXUS combat gear. Customizable before purchase. {300 Credits}
[Advanced Gear Kit] [Req. NEXUS Lv. 5]
– Enhanced combat equipment, includes adaptive armor specialized for the host's NEXUS Type. {1200 Credits}
[Stim Shot]
– Provides a minor boost to Speed, Psionic Pulse, and Control at the cost of temporary life force drain. Risk of Psionic Pulse regression. {200 Credits}
Available Credits: 0 Credits (Broke ass b*tch boy)
"…What the—HEY!" I shouted, face flushing in disbelief.
The insult blinked on the screen for a second before vanishing completely.
"The hell was that!?"
[The system does not understand.]
"Don't give me that—UGH!" I groaned, throwing my pillow at the holographic display (which, obviously, passed right through it).
The damn thing was mocking me.
Still… even if it was a snarky pain in the ass, I couldn't deny how useful this system would be. Its potential was enormous—and deep down, I knew it.
After all, there were people powerful enough to strike fear simply by existing.
I recalled a faint image of a major antagonist's portrait in Honor Till Death. One man, and surrounding him was a vast fleet. His entire body equipped with heavy mechanical, futuristic armor, and every ship gave a faint hum despite being a simple portrait.
I barely remember much of him in the game, but recalling that portrait... Maybe I shouldn't overthink much.
I decided to sleep, remembering that I need rest after that training.