The word wouldn't leave his mind.
Stand.
It echoed louder than the alarms still ringing faintly in the underground lab. His body lay heavy against the cold surface of the metal bed, every limb silent, unresponsive—like they still belonged to someone else.
[Motor Pathway Reconstruction: 27%]
Not enough.
He could feel it now—not sensation, not movement—but connection. Like thin wires being soldered together inside him, one by one.
His eyes shifted again to his father.
The man hadn't moved.
That truth pressed down harder than any paralysis ever had.
You didn't save me just so I could lie here.
The thought was sharp. Focused.
The system reacted instantly.
[User Intent Detected]
[Cognitive-Motor Sync Increased]
A low hum vibrated through his skull.
[Energy Allocation Adjusted]
[Warning: Neural Strain Rising]
His right hand twitched.
This time, it wasn't accidental.
His fingers curled—slow, awkward, like they were remembering something they had forgotten long ago.
A sharp spike flashed across his vision.
[Motor Pathway Reconstruction: 35%]
He inhaled sharply.
Again.
He forced the command—not with words, but will.
Move.
Pain bloomed behind his eyes. His jaw clenched as his arm slid off the side of the bed, hitting the floor with a dull sound. Weak. Uncontrolled.
But it moved.
Tears ran freely now, but the system didn't suppress them.
It allowed them.
[Emotional Feedback Loop: Accepted]
[Adaptation Rate Increased]
He dragged his arm back, fingers scraping metal, until his palm pressed flat against the bed. Muscles trembled. Signals misfired. His shoulder screamed in protest.
[Motor Pathway Reconstruction: 49%]
Halfway.
His legs were still dead weight.
The system hesitated.
Then new text appeared—yellow instead of blue.
[Suggestion: Partial Standing Attempt]
[Risk Level: High]
He laughed weakly.
"Since when… has risk ever mattered?"
The sound shocked him.
He could speak.
Barely—but it was enough.
Using both arms, he shifted his weight, sliding to the edge of the bed. His feet touched the floor.
Nothing happened.
For a terrifying second, gravity reclaimed him.
Then—
A jolt surged up his spine.
[Emergency Motor Rewrite Triggered]
[Limiter Override: Temporary]
His knees buckled—but didn't collapse.
He was standing.
Not straight.
Not stable.
Shaking violently.
But upright.
The world spun. His vision darkened at the edges.
[Warning: Neural Load Critical]
[Time Remaining: 6 seconds]
He looked at his father one last time.
"I'll finish it," he whispered. "I promise."
The six seconds ran out.
His legs gave way.
He hit the floor—hard—but alive, conscious, breathing.
The system dimmed its interface.
[Standing Attempt: Successful]
[Tier 1 Progression: 68%]
[Recovery Mode Initiated]
As darkness crept in, one final line appeared—small, almost hidden.
[Note: Repeated failure accelerates growth]
In Ethereal, where the strong ruled and the weak were erased…
The system had learned something important.
So had he.