Asher went to the gym.
This decision was made for three reasons:
One: He needed an excuse to move without summoning monsters.
Two: If he didn't burn off excess energy, he was going to start shadowboxing furniture.
Three: It seemed normal.
Which, in hindsight, should have been his first warning.
The gym smelled like rubber mats, disinfectant, and ambition. Music thumped loudly enough to suggest everyone inside was trying to drown out their own thoughts.
Asher paused just inside the door.
"…Okay," he muttered. "We blend in. We lift things. We leave."
A familiar pressure stirred behind his eyes.
[Notice]
Unstructured physical activity detected.
"…You don't get to comment on this," Asher whispered.
[Clarification]
Commentary is automatic.
"Of course it is."
He signed in, grabbed a towel, and headed toward the free weights. Rows of mirrors reflected people lifting, flexing, and very intentionally not making eye contact.
Asher picked up a pair of dumbbells.
Light ones.
Very light ones.
He curled.
Smooth. Controlled. Easy.
"…That's not right."
He tried again.
Still easy.
No strain. No wobble.
Just… solid.
Asher slowly set the dumbbells down and stared at them like they'd personally betrayed him.
"…Okay," he said. "We scale down."
He grabbed lighter ones.
Same result.
He frowned.
"Okay. We scale up."
He chose a weight he knew—knew—used to feel heavy.
He lifted.
Once.
Twice.
No shaking. No effort.
"…I am going to get arrested," Asher whispered.
[Observation]
Structural reinforcement and fatigue mitigation are influencing output.
"I don't need a diagnosis," he hissed. "I need plausible weakness."
He moved to the machines instead. Less dramatic. More controlled.
Leg press.
He sat, adjusted the seat, and carefully pushed.
The platform moved smoothly.
Too smoothly.
Asher blinked and pulled his feet back before he accidentally launched the machine into the ceiling.
"…Gentle," he muttered. "Gentle is the goal."
A guy nearby glanced at him, then at the weight setting.
"…Dude," the guy said. "Is that your warm-up?"
Asher froze.
"…Yes," he said automatically. "My… very tiring warm-up."
The guy nodded slowly, clearly re-evaluating his life choices.
Asher stood up and walked away.
He wiped sweat off his forehead.
Which was annoying, because he wasn't actually sweating yet.
"…This was a bad idea," he said.
The system did not disagree.
He decided to try something safer.
The treadmill.
No lifting. Just running. Everyone runs.
He stepped on, set it to a light jog, and started moving.
Normal. Fine. Boring.
"…Okay," Asher said. "This is safe."
He relaxed.
Which is when the machine sped up.
Asher blinked.
"…I didn't touch that."
[Observation]
User movement efficiency exceeds expected baseline.
The treadmill accelerated again.
Asher yelped and quickened his pace.
People nearby glanced over.
He tried slowing down.
The treadmill did not agree.
"…Nope," Asher said, running now. "Absolutely not."
The speed ticked up again.
Asher grabbed the side rails and hit the emergency stop.
The belt screeched to a halt.
He stumbled forward, catching himself effortlessly.
Too effortlessly.
Silence.
Someone clapped.
Asher turned slowly.
"…Please don't."
The clapping stopped.
He cleared his throat and stepped off the treadmill, heart pounding.
"…I am not built for public spaces anymore."
He headed for the water fountain, trying to calm down.
That's when he felt it.
Someone watching.
Not hostile.
Curious.
Asher turned.
Maya stood near the entrance, gym bag over her shoulder, staring at him with the exact expression she wore when something almost made sense.
"…Of course," Asher said weakly.
She walked over slowly.
"I saw the treadmill," she said.
Asher nodded. "I can explain."
"Please do," she replied. "Because it looked like the machine tried to keep up with you."
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"…Momentum is a suggestion?" he tried again.
She stared.
"…That's not helping."
He sighed.
"Okay. I've been… working on myself."
She crossed her arms. "You always worked on yourself. You used to trip over air."
"…I've upgraded my air."
She snorted despite herself, then frowned.
"Asher," she said quietly, "you're not just clumsy-less. You're… different."
He rubbed his face.
"…I know."
They stood there for a moment, gym noise buzzing around them.
Maya tilted her head.
"You're not in trouble," she said. "I'm just saying… whatever you're doing?"
She leaned closer.
"Be careful. People notice things like this."
Asher nodded slowly.
"…I'm trying."
She studied him another second, then sighed.
"Next time you want to pretend to be normal," she said, "maybe don't start with superhuman cardio."
He laughed weakly.
"…Noted."
She headed off toward the lockers.
Asher watched her go, then exhaled deeply.
"…No more gyms."
A system window flickered.
[Notice]
External exposure risk elevated.
Recommendation: Limit public exertion.
Asher stared at it.
"…You don't say."
He grabbed his bag and headed for the exit.
As he stepped outside, sunlight hit his face, warm and ordinary.
For the first time, the danger wasn't claws or spikes or momentum.
It was the simple fact that he was changing.
And the world was starting to notice.
Asher adjusted his hoodie and walked home.
"…Next time," he muttered, "I'm just going to read a book."
The system did not promise that would be safe either.