Location: Jerkin Base - Grand Induction Hall
Time: Present Day - The Match
---
The hall had transformed into an arena—a simple, circular space cleared of all furniture, its marble floor polished to a mirror sheen. The chandeliers above cast their prismatic light across the combatants, illuminating the tension that crackled between them.
Leo and Jericho stood face to face. The crowd had formed a ring around them—trainees, servants, and nobles alike, their voices a low, expectant hum. The air was thick with anticipation, heavy with the weight of what was about to unfold.
---
At the edge of the crowd, Valerik stood beside Brenna, his expression one of genuine surprise. His voice carried a note of quiet disbelief.
"I'm surprised to see you still in this dump of a base. The Jerkins' estate, of all places."
Brenna's lips curved into a thin smile. "Well, it's not like I have anything else to do or anywhere else to be."
She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"My elder sister is currently with the superiors—all high on her tail, bugging for an explanation of why she couldn't catch Elijah. But that doesn't worry her. She sneers at them. Says the only thing they can do is spit in anger. For now."
Valerik shook his head slowly. "She is one of a kind. Second stage of the Soul Surge... still respected by today's standards."
Brenna's expression shifted—a flicker of something that might have been frustration.
"For myself, I'm still stuck at gate two sync with the weave phase of the first stage of circuit awakening. Been there for years. Can't understand why I haven't reached past the ceiling. It's been... frustrating."
She paused, her voice carrying a note of quiet resignation.
"Not that it's surprising. Unlike my elder sister, who practices the old way of pranastrum—the Breath of Heaven—the weave that you and I use was only introduced five years prior. It's not surprising that even for myself, I still can't make out what it really is."
Valerik nodded slowly. "When the aethernova suits were first introduced by Dr. Rex and his brother decades earlier, many in the Sutran doubted it could work. They thought it was a failed attempt at challenging the old way that existed for heaven-knows-how-long. But at first trials... who knows how many cheated fools were used and lost their lives in the process for it to eventually come out of fruition for production later on."
Brenna's voice carried a note of quiet tension. "It caused quite a stir among Sutrans across the world. Especially those from southern America, east, and north continents. They didn't recognize and weren't ready to accept the weave as the new way. And still is internal conflict between them and the seven court families from Europe... and this country."
---
Seraphina stood at the edge of the circle, her expression one of cold contemplation. Her internal voice carried a note of quiet frustration.
Why of late... why does it feel like the Jerkins family got jinxed by someone? More and more unwanted things keep happening. These boys are going to be the death of me. Or the family.
She shook her head.
Blame that dummy brother of mine for raising such a distasteful family.
---
Jericho's voice carried a note of cold confidence. "So, little brother. Always reserved. Always had this behavior that made me like it—knowing and accepting your strength, even when it was pathetic and weak."
The crowd's whispers rose.
"Seriously, how low can this Jerry bozo get? Does he think past-tense insults would make him appear upright? Or continue revealing the stupidity that he really has?"
Giggles rippled through the crowd.
Jericho's jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists.
What do they know? he thought. The weave... the moves... I just need to execute them as I remembered them from my father. The AI chip will amplify my strength and reflexes in the process. That's all I need.
He lunged forward.
---
Jericho's body moved with aggressive precision—two front punches aimed at Leo's face, followed by a right leg trip aimed at his ankles. The attacks were fast, powerful, amplified by his chip.
But Leo didn't dodge.
He countered.
His body twisted, his left palm arcing upward to deflect the first punch. His right hand shot out, catching Jericho's wrist and redirecting the second punch harmlessly to the side. His foot shifted, his weight dropping as he avoided the trip.
And then he struck.
A front palm to Jericho's chest. A back fist to his jaw. A spinning elbow aimed at his shoulder.
Each strike was precise—controlled. The energy around Leo's body flowed like water, swirling and shifting with each movement. It was collected. Focused. His.
Jericho's energy was different. Wild. Chaotic. It flickered and sparked around him like a storm, leaking from his body in uncontrolled bursts. He was strong—undeniably strong. But he lacked control.
The gap between them was obvious.
Valerik's voice carried a note of genuine shock. "How is this possible? During the Crucible Grounds... I felt that Leo barely revealed his weave range of ability. But right now... he's showing clear signs he already has basic and easy control with his weave. Which even I find difficult."
Brenna's voice carried a note of quiet awe. "Third threshold of circuit bound. Can't believe he already reached it. But how is this possible?"
Valerik's expression shifted. "Clearly, that old Jerkins might be a fox who duped everyone and secretly knows what the weave is."
Brenna shook her head. "Or that this kid might be a prodigy. Which is beyond the realm of common sense, as he is not of Sutran bloodline such as ourselves."
Valerik's voice carried a note of quiet foreboding. "The times are really changing with this introduction of the weave. Hence, the Sutrans becoming the dominant race... probably might change if more abnormal normal humans turn to be like this kid."
Brenna nodded slowly. "Probably why there is strife within the Sutran themselves."
---
Seraphina watched the match, her expression one of speechlessness. Her internal voice carried a note of genuine disbelief.
I thought the rumors were exaggerated. But seeing Leo now... I no longer doubt his new capabilities.
---
Jericho lunged again—a wild, powerful strike aimed at Leo's head. The energy around his body flared, chaotic and uncontrolled.
Leo didn't dodge. He didn't need to.
His body moved with fluid precision—a front palm to Jericho's chest, a back fist to his jaw, a spinning elbow aimed at his shoulder. Each strike landed with devastating precision, the energy around his body flowing and shifting with each movement.
Jericho staggered, blood spraying from his mouth. His eyes widened—shock, disbelief, and something that might have been fear.
The crowd's whispers grew louder.
"He's actually doing it! Leo is actually winning!"
"Look at the difference. Jericho's energy is all over the place. Leo's is... controlled."
"Third threshold? Already? And he's not even of Sutran bloodline!"
The difference in their power was stark. Jericho's energy declined with each passing moment—from a blazing inferno to a flickering flame. Leo's energy only grew—steadier, stronger, more controlled.
Jericho spat blood, his eyes fixed on Leo.
"What... what are you?"
Leo's expression remained calm. His voice was quiet, almost gentle.
"Just someone who finally woke up."
He struck again—a final blow that sent Jericho crashing to the ground.
The crowd erupted—cheers, applause, whistles. The chant began, a low rumble that grew into a roar.
"LEO! LEO! LEO!"
Leo stood over his fallen brother, his chest heaving, his expression one of quiet disbelief.
Can't believe I'm actually doing it, he thought. Never imagined I'd ever be in this spot. All because of getting kidnapped by that wacko.
He stared at his hands—at the energy that flowed around them, controlled and precise.
What have I become?
---
The hall was alive with the sound of cheering—a deafening roar that shook the very walls. Leo stood at the center of the circle, his body still trembling from the effort of the fight.
Jericho lay on the ground, broken and bloodied, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Seraphina watched from the edge of the circle, her expression unreadable.