Location: Crestwood City - Unknown Alley
Time: Night - The Training
---
The alley had become a crucible. The rain had stopped, but the air was still thick with moisture—cold, biting, the kind of chill that seeped into bones and refused to leave. Frost clung to the walls, and the puddles on the ground reflected the pale glow of the dying streetlamp. The silence was absolute—a heavy, waiting silence that seemed to press down on the world like a physical weight.
Leo's fist was still extended, his knuckles pressed against Elijah's palm. The impact of his strike had sent shockwaves through the alley, cracking the ground beneath them and silencing the streetlamp. But Elijah hadn't moved.
His palm was still firm—as immovable as a boulder, as unyielding as a mountain. No energy radiated from his body. No aura blazed around him. Just his hand, his flesh, his bone—and yet it held against Leo's strike like a wall of iron.
Leo's breath came in ragged gasps. His body trembled. His muscles screamed. But he didn't pull back.
I can't do this to myself, he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of desperate determination. I can't let myself fall down. No matter how experienced he is. No matter how much knowledge he has over me. I must not let myself be stopped by him.
He pulled his fist back and punched again.
The impact was weaker this time. The shockwave was smaller. The ground cracked less. But Leo didn't stop.
He punched again. And again. And again.
Each strike was met with the same immovable palm—the same unyielding defense. But something was different now. The energy around Leo's fist was shifting—changing. The golden light of grit and the darker light of frustration were no longer separate. They were merging—combining into something new.
The energy around his fist was liquid—a flowing, radiant substance that pulsed with both determination and perseverance. It wasn't just grit anymore. It wasn't just frustration. It was both—raised within himself as his own strength.
What is this? Leo thought, his internal voice carrying a note of confused wonder. This feeling... it's like I'm finally whole. Like I've stopped fighting against myself.
He pulled his fist back and punched again.
The impact was stronger this time. The shockwave was larger. The ground cracked deeper.
Elijah's palm remained firm.
---
Mateo stood at the edge of the alley, his camera raised, his expression one of quiet disbelief. He had been ordered to record—to capture whatever happened between Elijah and the Jerkins boy. But what he was seeing... it was beyond anything he had expected.
Don't know what I'm looking at, he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of genuine awe. But boss surely is unworldly. For making this clueless kid start becoming as wacko as himself.
He zoomed in, his lens focused on Leo's fists—the liquid radiance that coiled around his knuckles, the way the energy shifted with each strike.
Based on my observation... it's as though the kid's range of attacks have become more firm. Stronger. Like he's not just throwing punches anymore—he's throwing his entire being into them.
He shook his head slowly.
What is he?
---
Leo pulled his fist back and punched again.
The impact was stronger this time—much stronger. The shockwave rippled through the alley, cracking the walls, sending debris flying. The ground beneath them trembled.
Elijah's palm remained firm.
But his expression shifted—just for a moment. A flicker of something that might have been surprise.
"You're currently in the state of utility of two different weaves," Elijah said, his voice calm, measured. "Gate two sync of weaves. Circuit Awakening."
Leo's eyes widened. So that's what it is.
He paused, his mind racing. Gate two sync... two different weaves... what else is there?
He closed his eyes. He listened—not to the world around him, but to himself. His heart. His breath. His mind.
And then he felt it.
The world around him was alive—not just with energy, but with frequency. The cold chill of the night air. The silence of the alley. The distant hum of the city. It was all there—all speaking to him, all waiting to be absorbed.
I can feel it, he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of dawning wonder. The world is... calling to me. Not just the energy I've been absorbing. Everything. The cold. The silence. The stillness.
He reached out—not with his hands, but with his will. He let the frequencies flow into him—the cold chill of the night, the heavy silence of the alley, the stillness of the world around him.
The energy around him shifted again. The liquid radiance of grit and frustration was joined by something new—the pale blue of cold, the deep gray of silence.
Two more weaves, he thought. Cold and silence. And they're merging with the others.
The energy around his fists was no longer just liquid. It was a swirling, churning maelstrom of four different frequencies—grit, frustration, cold, and silence. They were separate, but they were also together—a duality within a duality.
Elijah's eyes widened—just for a moment. A flicker of genuine surprise that was quickly hidden.
Did he just make a clueless kid jump three thresholds in what would have taken a prospect five years—even a decade—to accomplish?
He shook his head slowly, his internal voice carrying a note of quiet realization.
As expected. The Mysterium clan deliberately uses them as cannon fodder. That's why they take so long to reach such levels. They're not meant to grow. They're meant to be consumed.
---
The energy around Leo's body was blazing now—a swirling, radiant storm of four different frequencies. The golden light of grit. The darker light of frustration. The pale blue of cold. The deep gray of silence. They merged and separated, merged and separated, a constant dance of duality.
And then, they combined.
The energy around Leo's fists was no longer four separate frequencies. It was one—a single, unified force that pulsed with the combined power of all four. It was liquid and solid, hot and cold, loud and silent. It was everything and nothing.
Leo's eyes blazed with determination. His body trembled with power.
Elijah's expression shifted—a flicker of something that might have been pride.
"Third threshold," he said, his voice carrying a note of quiet satisfaction. "Fully realized Circuit Bound."
He paused. And then, slowly, he began to laugh.
---
It started as a low chuckle—a rumble deep in his chest. Then it grew—louder, more unhinged, more manic. Elijah's body shook with laughter, his head tilting back, his arms spreading wide.
"I didn't think it was possible!" he shouted, his voice carrying a note of genuine disbelief. "I didn't think I could take just a normal bum sucker like yourself—no experience, no training, no nothing—and turn you into a fully realized Circuit Bound!"
He paused, his eyes gleaming with something that might have been madness.
"And if I can do that to you... what do you think I could do to hundreds of you? Thousands? What kind of army could I build?"
His laughter grew louder—more manic, more unhinged.
"An army of Circuit Bound! An army of soldiers who owe everything to me! An army that could tear the Mysterium clan apart!"
Leo's expression shifted to one of genuine unease. His body trembled—not with power, but with fear.
He's... he's insane, Leo thought. Completely insane.
Mateo's expression shifted to one of genuine terror. His hands shook. His camera trembled.
Why in the heavens would I be in the hands of such a lunatic? he thought, his internal voice carrying a note of desperate despair. I should have stayed in bed. I should have ignored the boss's summons. I should have—
Elijah's laughter echoed through the alley, a sound of pure, unbridled madness.
---
The alley was silent, save for the echoes of Elijah's laughter. Leo stood before him, his body trembling, his fists still clenched. The energy around him blazed—a swirling, radiant storm of four different frequencies.
Mateo stood at the edge of the alley, his camera lowered, his expression one of pure terror.
Elijah's laughter slowly subsided. His expression shifted—the madness fading, replaced by something calmer. Something colder.
"You've done well, Leo," he said, his voice carrying a note of quiet satisfaction. "But this is just the beginning."
He turned, walking toward the edge of the alley.
"Come on. We have work to do."
Leo stared after him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he followed.