Takeshi Murata's POV
The old audiovisual room lay in shadow, its heavy wooden door left slightly ajar. A single ceiling light flickered, casting uneven rectangles of illumination on the scuffed linoleum. Takeshi Murata paused in the hallway, knotting his fingers on the strap of his bag. He'd come for his robotics notes—left, as always, on the dusty shelf beside the broken projector.
He stepped inside, closing the door gently. The air smelled of aged plastic and stale dust. A faded poster of a solar system peeling at one corner fluttered in the draft. Beneath it, the projector rested on a low metal table, its lens cap long gone and its cables curled in a neglected tangle. Takeshi approached with purposeful steps, each one echoing lightly.
He set his bag down and knelt in front of the machine. His fingers traced the power cord—stiff and unyielding. He tugged it free and followed it to the wall outlet, plugging it in with a deliberate click. Nothing happened.
"Old friend," he muttered, resting his forehead against the cool side of the table. "Let's see what you've got left in you."
He retrieved a compact toolkit from his bag: precision screwdrivers, spare capacitors, a fresh bulb, and a soldering iron. The tip of the iron glowed faintly green as he unclipped it. At the edge of his awareness, his subsystem interface pulsed—a gentle reminder of the network's presence inside his mind.
Inspecting the Circuit Board
Takeshi removed four screws from the projector's casing. The metal panel came off with a dull clang. Inside, dust coated the circuit board, clogging vents and dimming diagnostic LEDs. He swept a small brush across the board, clearing away debris. Several solder joints looked cracked—especially near the power regulator. He traced the circuit path with his fingertip, mentally mapping current flow. If I reroute this line through that backup capacitor…Flashback: First Tinkering
His thoughts drifted to middle school, when he'd dismantled his first RC car in his bedroom. His parents had woken to the sound of tiny gears grinding on the floor. He remembered the thrill of seeing wheels spin for the first time under his own handiwork. That rush never left me.Testing the Bulb
He removed the bulb housing, setting it aside. With a handheld voltage tester, he probed the bulb circuit. The gauge remained flat—no current, a dead filament. Takeshi frowned but didn't hesitate. From his kit, he selected a fresh bulb and fitted it into the housing. The metal threads glinted under the lamp's glare.Replacing Capacitors
Next, he targeted the cracked capacitors. With the soldering iron's tip, he heated each joint until the old capacitor slipped free. He placed the new ones in, careful to align polarity marks, then pressed the iron to each pin until the solder flowed smoothly. The board gleamed with fresh links, and the distinct smell of melted flux filled the air.Calibrating the Viewport
Takeshi snapped the casing back into place and tightened each screw. He turned to the lens assembly, rotating the focus ring until the glass stopped with a satisfying click. A small set screw, once loose, now held the lens firmly.
He wiped sweat from his brow and took a steadying breath. "Moment of truth."
He pressed the power button. Fans whirred, warming the room with mechanical life. The projector's front panel lights glowed green. Takeshi's heart thumped.
He reached for a transparent slide he'd prepared: a circuit diagram drawn in his neatest lines. He fed it into the tray. A soft click, then a hiss, and a pale rectangle of light bloomed on the far wall. The diagram was crisp, each line gleaming like fresh solder.
Takeshi leaned back, arms folded, watching the image sharpen. "Welcome back," he whispered.
Footsteps approached down the corridor. Yamada Koji's measured gait echoed first, then Daichi Nomura's lighter steps. Yamada entered, followed by Daichi's casual stride.
"So it lives," Yamada said quietly, stepping into the glow. He examined the projected diagram, head tilted. "Looks good."
Daichi crouched beside the table, running a fingertip along a wire conduit on the slide. "Let me hook up the voltage sensor." He tapped his wrist, summoning his mental overlay. The projector's pulse light flickered in response. He held up a handheld sensor, its display humming to life.
Takeshi smiled. "Show me."
Daichi connected the sensor's leads to the projector's output jack. The sensor beeped and displayed a steady waveform. "Clean signal—no noise spikes. Impressive."
Takeshi shrugged modestly. "Replaced the bulb, rerouted the regulator circuit. Cleaned dust. About thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes?" Yamada raised an eyebrow. "That's efficient."
"I had help," Takeshi said, glancing at the subtle glow in his mind's eye. His subsystem pulsed warmly—an echo of success.
[System Log]: Takeshi Murata — Innovation Task Completed: +0.3 LP
He felt the extra LP bloom behind his temples, sharpening his focus.
Daichi slid a new diagram into the projector: a microscopic view of plant regeneration nodes. The image flared into view, vibrant and precise.
"This will be perfect for tomorrow's demonstration," Daichi said, standing. He patted Takeshi on the back. "You saved the lab hour."
Yamada nodded in agreement. "Good work."
Takeshi clenched his fist once. "Feels good to be useful."
They left him alone amid the warm projector glow.
He waited until their footsteps faded, then reached out and touched the projector's housing. The warmth under his palm made the metal feel alive. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift through the network of resonance patterns.
Repair.
Restore.
Advancement.
The room's shadows danced as the projector fans slowed. Takeshi removed the slide and set it beside his toolkit. He replaced the lens cap, unplugged the power cord, and tucked it neatly under the table. The machine sat silent but ready.
He packed his toolkit and transparency into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. As he turned to leave, he paused at the doorway. The projector's lens caught the dying light from the hallway, reflecting a single starburst of white.
"See you tomorrow," he murmured.
He stepped into the corridor, its cool air a contrast to the warmth he carried within. Ahead, the locker-lined hall stretched toward the exit. He walked with measured strides, each echo a quiet proclamation of progress.
Broken things can still shine, he thought, letting the moment settle.
And small sparks become brighter together.
Kana Ishikawa's POV
Kana Ishikawa pushed open the biology lab door and stepped inside, inhaling that familiar blend of ethanol, damp soil, and warm breath of fluorescent lights. This was their second practical session since the subsystem expansion—today's focus was tissue regeneration in Calidora rusticum. Students clustered at stations, gloves squeaking on latex as they prepared samples.
At the rear bench, beneath an array of laminated diagrams, sat Miyu Arai. Her shoulders were hunched so far forward her chin almost grazed her collarbone. She stared at the microscope slide in front of her, eyes red-rimmed, tears threatening to spill.
Kana's heart skipped. She knew Miyu was quiet—always diligent but painfully shy. Seeing her pinned by frustration struck a chord. Kana set her notebook aside and slipped into the empty stool beside Miyu.
"Hey," Kana said gently. "Everything all right?"
Miyu jumped, nearly dropping her tweezers. She blinked, swiping at her cheeks. "I… I ruined it again." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Kana leaned in, spotting the broken tissue slice on the slide—ripped at the edges, smeared with mounting stains. "Show me what you were trying."
Miyu exhaled, voice trembling. "I followed the steps, but when I applied the saline buffer, the cells tore. I've redone it three times and… nothing." A fresh tear escaped.
Kana set her hand lightly on Miyu's. "It's okay to struggle. That's how we learn."
Miyu sniffed, uncertain whether to recoil or lean into the comfort. She chose the latter. "I'm just… not good at this."
Kana offered a reassuring smile, her subsystem interface humming at the edge of her awareness—a warm, sympathetic pulse. She drew a quick sketch in her notebook: a neat, labeled diagram of the tissue sample under ideal tension, with arrows showing buffer flow.
"Look," Kana said, turning the notebook so Miyu could see. "When you mount the tissue, stretch it gently across the slide. Then, apply the buffer drop by drop along the edge—let capillary action draw it in, instead of flooding the center."
Miyu studied the drawing, nodding slowly. "So… like this?"
Kana guided her fingers to position a fresh sample. Together, they lifted a thin strip of tissue and angled it across the slide edge. Miyu's hands trembled; Kana placed her own fingertips over Miyu's, steadying the motion.
"Balanced tension," Kana murmured. "Exactly."
Miyu let out a small, surprised laugh. "My hands are shaking."
"Take a breath," Kana said. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the emotional resonance extend through her subsystem. She exhaled, steady. "Now with me."
They synchronized a slow inhale and exhale. Miyu's shoulders relaxed, and her grip steadied.
"Buffer?" Kana prompted.
Miyu took up the dropper, bringing it to the slide's edge. Under Kana's watchful eye, she released one drop. It seeped along the tissue, spreading evenly without ripping. Miyu's face lit up.
"It worked," she whispered.
Kana beamed. "You did it."
Miyu pressed her fingers to her lips, as though catching a thought. "Thank you."
Over the next twenty minutes, Kana stayed at Miyu's side, guiding each step—setting up the microscope, adjusting the light intensity, and teaching her to focus slowly to avoid lens drift. With every success, Miyu's confidence grew: the tissue regenerated cleanly, the vascular strands reknit seamlessly under gentle coaxing.
When the instructor, Mr. Tanaka, passed by, he paused to look at Miyu's slide. "Excellent work, Arai," he said. "Your mount is precise, and your notes… detailed." He tapped his pen against his notepad. "Very impressive."
Miyu's cheeks reddened—but this time in pride, not embarrassment. She glanced at Kana, who returned a small, encouraging nod.
Kana stepped back as Mr. Tanaka moved on to the next bench. She closed her notebook, heart pounding with satisfaction. Helping a classmate succeed felt… transformative. Her own subsystem warmed at the back of her mind.
Miyu exhaled, wiping her glasses. "I was so close to giving up," she admitted. "But you… you showed me another way."
Kana shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sometimes we need someone else to remind us of what we already know."
Miyu offered a shy smile. "Do you… think I could try the regeneration test on my own tomorrow?"
Kana's eyes brightened. "Of course. And I'll be there if you need me."
They high-fived—quietly, careful not to draw too much attention—and returned to collecting their equipment.
Later that evening, at home, Kana sat at her desk. The dim glow of her lamp illuminated her open notebook. She wrote a brief journal entry:
October 5th
Today I helped Miyu Arai with her practical. She was so frustrated, but we worked through the buffer technique together. She succeeded—and her smile made it all worthwhile.
As she closed her journal, a gentle warmth spread behind her eyes.
[System Log]: Kana Ishikawa — Support Task Completed: +0.2 LP
Kana felt the subtle bloom of Life Points, an echo of the empathy she'd shared. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment of quiet pride before preparing for bed.
Miyu Arai's success began a subtle shift in the lab's atmosphere. The next morning, whisperings of admiration followed Miyu's name; peers regarded her with newfound respect. And at the center of it all, Kana carried the knowledge that her subsystem—like the others—was most powerful when used to uplift someone else.
Tomorrow, the cohort would gather again. But tonight, Kana drifted to sleep content, her subsystem humming softly with promise.
Souta's POV
The late‐afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the biology lab, illuminating motes of dust drifting lazily in golden shafts. The room smelled of antiseptic, soil, and the faint tang of electricity from Takeshi's recently repaired projector. Eight workstations lined the perimeter; each held a microscope, a set of dissecting tools, and a small heat lamp. In the center, five stools formed a rough semicircle around a long metal table where Calidora rusticum samples lay in Petri dishes.
Souta Minakawa stood before the whiteboard, marker uncapped, as five students filed in. He watched with quiet satisfaction: Yamada Koji entered first, notebook in hand, posture composed; Kana Ishikawa followed, eyes bright with curiosity; Takeshi Murata swaggered in with a casual grin; Sanae Okabe moved next, precise and steady; and Daichi Nomura closed the group, quiet confidence radiating from his measured steps.
He tapped the marker against his palm. "Thank you all for coming," he began, voice calm and even. "Today, we'll take our individual experiments and fuse them into a collective project."
A murmur passed among the students. Yamada tilted his head, Kana's eyebrows lifted expectantly, and Takeshi leaned forward. Even Sanae and Daichi, who'd only recently joined the subsystem, showed the subtlest signs of anticipation.
Souta drew a simple diagram on the board: a stylized plant stem divided into sections, numbered nodes, and arrows indicating external stimuli—pH, light frequency, and mechanical pressure. "Each of you has excelled in your own domain," he said. "But the true power of the Growth Matrix emerges when diverse strengths converge. Today, we'll test cross‐system regeneration by applying our combined expertise to a single specimen."
He turned and nodded toward the semicircle. "First, let me introduce the newest members of our cohort and their subsystem affinities."
He gestured to Sanae. "Sanae Okabe—her analytical precision will guide our experimental parameters." Sanae inclined her head, expression composed yet curious.
He then nodded to Daichi. "Daichi Nomura—his predictive modeling will ensure our stimuli maintain precise calibration." Daichi's gaze flickered to Souta, then settled on the table.
Yamada offered both a respectful nod. "Welcome," he said quietly. Kana and Takeshi echoed the sentiment with gentle smiles and a thumbs‐up, respectively.
Souta erased the board and sketched a new layout: five labeled zones around the central table. "Your roles today are as follows," he explained:
Yamada – Vascular Mapping: Diagram and record node regeneration patterns. Kana – Emotional Resonance: Observe group dynamics and record behavioral responses. Takeshi – Stimulus Engineering: Assemble and operate devices for pH, light, and pressure stimuli. Sanae – Parameter Control: Define and maintain experimental conditions with mathematical precision. Daichi – Sensor Calibration: Ensure data accuracy by modeling anticipated responses and adjusting sensors in real time.
He slid each a datasheet template. "We'll conduct three trials—varying pH, light frequency, and mechanical pressure. Document your observations and raw data. Our aim is both scientific insight and strengthening group resonance."
The students exchanged determined looks. They set to work: Yamada opened his notebook, Kana arranged her journal and pens, Takeshi unpacked his toolkit, Sanae adjusted her tablet interface, and Daichi warmed up his handheld sensor.
Trial One: pH Variation
Preparation (0–5 minutes)
Yamada carefully dissected a fresh Calidora sample, trimming a 5-mm section around the target node. He placed it onto a pre‐sterilized agar slide. Sanae measured the pH of three buffer solutions: 6.8, 7.2, and 7.6. She used a precision titrator to adjust each to ±0.02 pH accuracy. Takeshi connected a micro‐pump to the slide, testing flow rates at 0.1 mL/min. Daichi positioned his miniature spectrophotometric sensor, confirming real-time readouts of ion concentration. Kana watched each step, noting posture, tone, and group focus on her emotional log.
Execution (5–15 minutes)
Takeshi released the first drop of pH 6.8 buffer onto the edge of the tissue. The micro-pump hummed as fluid filled the slide by capillary action. Under the heat lamp, the cell edges began to swell and knit.
Yamada sketched vascular reunification lines in his notebook, labeling each new cell cluster. "Node 3 regeneration at 15% beyond baseline," he noted. Sanae cross-checked those figures against her predicted growth model. "Within 1.8% of expected values. Excellent." Daichi monitored the sensor readout: a smooth curve of ion flux matching Sanae's theoretical model. "Signal noise below 0.5%—data integrity intact." Kana recorded an emotional high: "Group posture uniformly forward, vocal tone steady—resonance strong at 8/10."
When the first trial concluded, Souta nodded in approval. "Good baseline. Let's rest the specimen and prepare Trial Two."
Debrief and Calibration
While the tissue sample rested under ambient conditions for five minutes, the group gathered around the projector screen. Takeshi fed the trial data—Yamada's sketches, Sanae's numbers, Daichi's graphs—into his laptop. On the wall, the projector displayed a composite overlay: vascular mapping in green, parameter curves in blue, sensor stability in orange.
"Kudos," Yamada said, tracing a finger along the green lines. "Seeing our data combined—this visual makes patterns obvious."
"Synchronized inputs," Sanae added, "are key. This overlay technique could be our new standard."
Daichi tapped his data widgets. "We should adjust our threshold for Trial Three—compensate for variance in ion uptake."
Takeshi rubbed his chin. "And maybe shorten the rest period. Might see quicker responses."
Kana closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. When she opened them, her voice was quiet but resolute. "Everything feels cohesive. This collaboration… it's more than the sum of its parts."
Souta smiled inwardly. This is the spark I wanted to ignite.
Trial Two: Light Frequency
Setup (25–30 minutes)
Takeshi arranged a ring of adjustable LEDs over the slide. Sanae calculated the first wavelength at 650 nm (red), ensuring ±2 nm precision. Yamada prepared a fresh sample, mounting it with identical tension to Trial One. Daichi positioned his spectrometer to measure luminescence and reflection. Kana cleared her log to record emotional fluctuations.
Execution (30–40 minutes)
Under the 650 nm red light, regeneration slowed—cells expanded beneath the lamp, lines fuzzier but consistent.
Yamada noted: "Node 2 growth at 9%—slower but structurally sound." Sanae observed: "Data variability under 3% from baseline. Light frequency effect confirmed." Daichi commented: "Spectral readouts show peak absorption at 652 nm—strong correlation." Kana recorded: "Ambient mood calm, almost meditative—resonance steadied at 7/10."
They cycled through 550 nm (green) and 470 nm (blue) frequencies, repeating observations. Each wavelength sculpted unique regeneration patterns—shorter pulses under blue, wider expansions under green.
At the end, Takeshi switched off the LEDs. The slides lay in soft darkness, fluorescent indicators dim.
Midway Reflection
The group gathered again by the projector. Takeshi loaded images of cell regrowth under each wavelength. Five windows displayed side by side.
"We have clear wavelength‐dependent effects," Yamada said, pointing. "But I'm intrigued by the emotional patterns Kana noted."
Kana shrugged. "Blue light trial felt more intense—everyone leaned in, voices softer. Emotional resonance peaked."
Sanae tapped her tablet. "Cross‐referencing emotional peaks with data variance shows a slight inverse correlation—higher resonance, lower variance."
Daichi raised an eyebrow. "That suggests the group's focus stabilizes results. Interesting."
Takeshi grinned. "So our minds really do shape the experiment."
Souta nodded, steepling his fingers. "Indeed. Mind and matter intertwined. Now, one final trial."
Trial Three: Mechanical Pressure
Preparation (50–55 minutes)
Takeshi assembled a micro-actuator with adjustable force settings. Sanae calculated a cyclical pressure profile: 0.02 N at 0.5 Hz. Yamada mounted the sample in a custom clamp, ensuring uniform tension. Daichi calibrated his pressure sensor, verifying readings within ±0.01 N. Kana ready her log for behavioral observation.
Execution (55–70 minutes)
The actuator applied rhythmic pressure: a gentle pulse that mimicked natural environmental stimuli.
Yamada observed immediate vascular realignment: "Nodes shifted laterally—very dynamic response." Sanae confirmed: "Parameter adhered to our tolerance. Growth rate at 18%—highest yet." Daichi logged: "Sensor read stable waveform. Excellent mechanical coupling." Kana recorded: "Group energy surged—resonance peak at 9.5/10. Body language open, collaborative."When the actuator paused, the tissue sample appeared revitalized, pulsing faintly under the microscope's LED.
Souta stepped forward, voice soft with pride. "Outstanding work. You've demonstrated that our combined efforts enhance both the experiment and the Matrix."
In his mind's eye, he saw the five quadrants pulsing together for a heartbeat—a nascent Group Resonance.
[System Note]: Shared Focus Event Detected — +0.1 Tier Shift
He felt a rush of warmth—the first tangible Group Resonance. The students sensed it too, a subtle surge of clarity that left them momentarily still, as if drawn into the same silent chord.
Souta gathered their datasheets and stepped to the board, writing:
Group Resonance Achieved
Tier Shift: 28% → 30%
He turned back to the group. "You've all done exceptional work today. Before we finish, I'd like your input: who else in Class 2B should we invite into this project next? Think about who showed exceptional initiative or insight."
The students exchanged thoughtful glances. Yamada was the first to speak:
"I noticed how Miyu Arai handled her regeneration test yesterday," he said quietly. "She stayed composed under pressure and adapted her technique. She'd be a strong addition."
Kana nodded in agreement. "Yes—she's methodical and kind. She helped others too, even before she joined us."
Takeshi added with a grin, "Her hands didn't shake once after you coached her, Sensei. That kind of steady focus can be rare."
Sanae tapped her tablet. "Her data logs were impeccably organized. She thinks in clear sequences."
Daichi folded his arms thoughtfully. "And her questions about capillary action showed true system‐level thinking. I'd welcome her perspective."
Souta let their suggestions sink in, a small smile forming. "Very well," he said. "Tomorrow, I'll speak with Miyu. Thank you all—for your work today and for helping shape our next step."
With that, the group packed up their tools, energized by the prospect of expanding their cohort. Souta watched them leave, the lab door's soft click marking the end of another milestone.
He stepped toward the hidden cabinet, ready to record their shared spark in the Matrix.
The faculty lounge was silent except for the low hum of the vending machine and the distant murmur of janitorial carts in the corridors. Souta Minakawa sat alone at his usual corner table, a cup of lukewarm tea cradled in his hands. The late‐evening light drifted in through the narrow window, casting long shadows across the laminate tabletop.
Tonight, he did not pour over lesson plans or student grades. Instead, he replayed the day's events in his mind—the meticulous repair of the projector, the quiet reassurance Kana offered Miyu, and above all, the luminous synergy of the five‐student group project. Each moment had been a small spark, and now, he would stoke those embers.
He opened his mental interface, sliding it into passive display on the underside of his teacup's handle. The Growth Matrix metrics glowed softly in his vision:
[Host Interface – Passive Mode]
Brain Power: 1.3x
Life Points: 4.5 → 4.6 (+0.1 passive return)
Followers: 5 Active
Tier Shift: 30% → 31% (+1% from Shared Focus event)
Below, the updated follower statuses:
Yamada Koji
Brain Power: 0.8x
• Life Points: 2.5 → 2.6 (+0.1 Shared Focus)
• Link Quality: Strengthening
• Resonance Strength: 4.1 Kana Ishikawa
Brain Power: 0.7x
• Life Points: 2.5 → 2.6 (+0.1 Shared Focus)
• Link Quality: Stable
• Resonance Strength: 3.9 Takeshi Murata
Brain Power: 0.55x
• Life Points: 2.2 → 2.3 (+0.1 Shared Focus)
• Link Quality: Stable
• Resonance Strength: 3.7 Sanae Okabe
Brain Power: 0.6x
• Life Points: 0.0 → 0.1 (+0.1 Shared Focus)
• Link Quality: Weak
• Resonance Strength: 2.3 Daichi Nomura
Brain Power: 0.55x
• Life Points: 0.0 → 0.1 (+0.1 Shared Focus)
• Link Quality: Weak
• Resonance Strength: 2.0
A separate log noted:
[System Log]: Shared Focus Event — +0.1 LP to each follower, +1% Tier Shift
[System Log]: Passive Return for Host — +0.1 LP
Souta closed the mental display. The numbers were promising: every member of the core cohort had gained a spark of Life Points, and the Tier Shift advanced yet again. His teacher's instincts turned to strategy: how best to harness this momentum without overwhelming the system.
He took a careful sip of his tea. The flavor was flat, but the ritual grounded him. In today's scenes, three sparks stood out most vividly:
Takeshi's Restoration
The AV room's broken projector had been a symbol of neglect. Takeshi's subsystem‐guided precision resurrected it, not only restoring a tool but delivering a visceral victory—fans whirring, images dancing, data flowing. It was a pure, tactile success that validated his growth.
Kana's Empathy
In the biology lab, Miyu Arai's trembling hands and tear‐streaked cheeks mirrored the fragility inherent in peer learning. Kana's calm guidance transformed desperation into triumph. That quiet moment of shared breath and careful buffering is the human kernel of the Growth Matrix: emotional resonance yielding real‐world benefit.
The Collective Project
When five minds anchored around a single Calidora sample, the Matrix responded. Group Resonance—the simultaneous flicker of five quadrants—signified that the system thrived on diversity. Each trial—pH, light, pressure—was itself predictable. The unpredictable was the synergy: the soft hush of collaboration, the smile that crossed every face when the final nodes reknit.
These reflections solidified his path forward. Individual achievements mattered—but it was the spark of collaboration that truly propelled growth.
Souta unfolded a notepad and began outlining upcoming priorities:
Extend Peer Invitations
Miyu Arai had earned an offer—not via system prompt, but via professor‐to‐student invitation. He would speak with her tomorrow after homeroom, framing it as a reward for her initiative and composure.
Plan the Hidden Club Proposal
With the cohort expanding to six, it was time to propose a structured forum—a Hidden Club where subsystem users could convene weekly. He sketched a rough charter: "Orion Core," a place for project work, ethical discussion, and innovation workshops.
Design Tier 2 Preview
Tier Shift had reached 31%. The next threshold at 40% would unlock preliminary Tier 2 functions—a glimpse of the interface upgrades awaiting his followers. He drafted preliminary badge concepts: Prototype, Mentor, Seeker.
Monitor System Integrity
No passive drift—subsystems must remain balanced. Yamada's Link Quality was strengthening, but Sanae and Daichi's were still weak. Group exercises would help them integrate and deepen their links.
Refine Next Group Exercise
Build on today's success: perhaps introduce environmental variation—temperature swings or nutrient gradients—to test adaptive synergy.
He paused, satisfied with the outline. The next weeks would be a delicate dance of invitations, experiments, and reflections.
The lounge clock ticked past 10:30 PM. The janitor's cart squeaked distantly. Souta's thoughts drifted to the faces he'd seen today:
Yamada, who processed data like clockwork, yet revealed a spark of wonder when patterns matched.
Kana, whose heart guided her hands, bringing warmth to sterile procedures.
Takeshi, whose mechanics were a language of possibility, his laughter ringing after each successful test.
Sanae, analytical and poised, a new mind still finding its place.
Daichi, quiet but precise in modeling complexity, now poised to join the team fully.
He allowed a moment of gratitude: gratitude for their trust, for the system's subtle nudges, and for the promise of what they would achieve together.
Souta reopened the passive display one last time:
[Host Interface – Final Check]
Brain Power: 1.3x
Life Points: 4.6
Tier Shift Progress: 31%
Next Tier Threshold: 40%
Estimated Days to Threshold: ~8
He closed it, committing the metrics to memory. Then, standing, he drained the last of his tea.
Before leaving, he placed his notepad into a secured folder and tapped the side of his tablet, synchronizing his reflections with the Matrix's hidden backup. In the small glow of his screen, he saw the cluster of six points—Yamada, Kana, Takeshi, Sanae, Daichi, and Miyu—positioned around the central node.
He whispered into the quiet: "Tomorrow, Miyu. And soon, the Hidden Club."
He exited the lounge, closing the door softly behind him, ready to guide the next chapter of growth.