The "next phase" was a refined form of torture. Lab 1 had been upgraded. Thicker damping alloys, more sensitive sensors, and a new, prominent emergency kill-switch that glowed a soft, tempting red on the far wall. Valerius was no longer just observing from behind the viewport; he was in the chamber with him, a calm, note-taking presence in the storm.
"We will not repeat the Gamma-9 event," Valerius stated, his voice echoing in the sterile space. "Uncontrolled expenditure is wasteful. We will now practice controlled demolition. You will learn to shape the dispersion, to focus it, to reduce the energetic cost by increasing your finesse."
Leo felt a cold sweat break out on his brow. "Captain, the last one nearly—"
"Nearly," Valerius interrupted, his gaze unwavering. "But it did not. Your body and mind have already proven more resilient than any subject on record. We are merely exploring the full extent of that resilience. Today, you will not create a wave. You will create a blade. A scalpel of negation. Target the designated practice construct."
In the center of the room, a small, contained Echo—a flickering, sad ghost of a lost pet—whimpered in a containment field. The order was monstrous.
"Focus," Valerius commanded. "Not on dispersion, but on precision. A hundredfold application of 'Targeted Psychic Interruption.'"
Leo's hands trembled. He looked at the flickering, harmless echo of a dog. This wasn't a monster. This was a memory. To annihilate it felt like a deeper violation than anything he'd done before.
"Now, O'Connor."
He had no choice. He focused, narrowing his mind, trying to channel the overwhelming power into a single, precise point.
[Skill Recognized: Targeted Psychic Interruption - Novice Lv. 0.1].
[Hundredfold Application Activated.]
It was like trying to thread a needle with a lightning bolt.
The power did not want to be focused. It was a wild, chaotic thing. A lance of blinding white energy, jagged and imperfect, shot from his outstretched hand. It struck the containment field, shattering it, and vaporized the Echo-instantly. But the backlash was a physical blow. He cried out, stumbling back, blood trickling from his nose and the corner of his eye. The "scalpel" had been a clumsy, brutal hammer.
"Not good enough," Valerius said, making a note on his slate. "The energy bleed was forty-seven percent. Inefficient. Again."
"There is no 'again'!" Leo gasped, wiping the blood from his lip. "Can't you see what this is doing to me?"
"I see a tool being sharpened," Valerius replied, his tone chillingly calm. "I see progress. The cost will lower as your proficiency increases. Your body will adapt."
"My mind won't!" Leo shouted, the words tearing from a raw place inside him. "I'm seeing double. I hear whispers when no one is there. I can't tell if the shadows are moving or if it's just my vision failing!"
For the first time, a flicker of something other than clinical interest crossed Valerius's face. It wasn't concern. It was the sharp, alert look of a scientist discovering a new variable. "Psychic feedback hallucinations. Noted. We will monitor that. It may be a side effect of your consciousness interfacing with higher-dimensional energies."
He was taking notes on Leo's breakdown.
The sheer, dehumanizing horror of it finally broke something inside Leo. The fear and obedience that had kept him compliant shattered. He took a step back, away from Valerius, away from the center of the room.
"No," Leo said, his voice low and shaking. "No more. I'm done. I'm not your lab rat."
Valerius looked up from his slate, his expression hardening. "That is not your decision to make, O'Connor. You are a vital asset to the Sweeper Corps. To all of humanity. Your personal comfort is irrelevant."
"My sanity isn't comfort!" Leo snapped. "You're burning me out to see what color the flames are. I won't do it."
"You will," Valerius said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. He took a step forward. "Because the alternative is containment. I will have you declared mentally unstable, a danger to yourself and this enclave. You will be sedated, confined, and studied in a far less comfortable environment. The work will continue. The only thing that changes is the quality of your accommodations."
The threat was real. Leo saw it in the man's unyielding eyes. He was trapped. To refuse was to become a specimen in a cage. To comply was to slowly disintegrate.
In that moment of paralyzed despair, the emergency klaxon blared through the complex, so loud it felt physical. Red lights strobed, casting Valerius's face in alternating light and shadow.
"Breach! Breach in Sector Alpha!" a panicked voice screamed over the comms. "It's a Class-5! A Grave-Titan is manifesting at the main barrier wall! All available units, respond!"
A Grave-Titan. Leo had only heard the name in horror-stricken whispers. A Manifestation born from mass death, so large and potent it could physically shatter fortifications. It wasn't just another monster; it was an extinction-level event for the entire enclave.
Valerius's composure finally cracked. His eyes widened a fraction, the data-slate forgotten in his hand. This was beyond any protocol.
He turned to Leo, and in his eyes, Leo didn't see a scientist or a commander. He saw a desperate man staring into the abyss. All his plans, his experiments, his cold calculations, were about to be rendered meaningless.
"O'Connor," Valerius said, his voice stripped of all its earlier authority, revealing the raw need beneath. "The dispersion. The big one. Like in Gamma-9. Can you do it?"
This was it. The moment Valerius had been pushing him toward. Not a controlled test, but a real, desperate application of the "cure." The power that was tearing him apart was now their only hope.
Leo looked at the blood on his hand. He felt the fragile state of his own mind, a pane of glass already webbed with cracks. To do what Valerius was asking might save the enclave.
But it would unquestionably destroy him.
He met Valerius's desperate gaze, the weight of thousands of lives pressing down on him.
The world was ending, and he was the only one who could stop it. The choice was no longer about obedience or rebellion.
It was about sacrifice.