The room was vast and silent, a cathedral of invention. Its ceiling soared to an impossible height, looking down on a sterile, silver landscape of scientific marvels. Machines of unknown purpose hummed quietly next to racks of gleaming, futuristic weapons. It was less a laboratory and more a museum of tomorrow's technology. Tucked away in one corner of this massive space was a glass-walled office.
Inside, Toro stood tall, a stark contrast to the organized chaos around him. He was a young man with sharp features, rectangular glasses perched on his nose, and dark hair curled tightly. His left arm, from the shoulder down, was a marvel of mechanical engineering, chrome and black plating shifting silently with his every movement. He was speaking to an old man with short white hair who sat behind a cluttered desk, tinkering with a highly mechanized device, a screwdriver held delicately in his experienced hands.
"I require a private lab," Toro stated, his voice flat and devoid of negotiation. "Nothing else."
"Your own lab?" The old man looked up from his work, his eyes weary. "Listen, kid, that can't happen just like that." He set his screwdriver down. "You have to wait a bit longer. I understand you're Victor's child, but..."
"A nepo baby?" Toro's voice was suddenly sharp, laced with venom. He turned, his mechanical hand clenching into a fist with an audible click of servos. "Is that what you think this is?"
"Wait," the old man called out, his protest feeble.
But Toro was already gone. He stormed out of the office and into the sterile hallway, the door sliding shut behind him. Above the entrance, a simple designation was written: LAB 001.
I hate it, Toro thought, his jaw tight with anger. I hate how they all bring up my father's name, as if I'm only here because I'm Professor Victor Sanchez's son. I got here because I'm lightyears smarter than he ever was.
As he walked briskly towards the elevator, his frustration gave way to focus. A tiny, insect-like drone, nearly invisible against the white ceiling of the training dome fifty floors above, transmitted a live feed directly to his consciousness. His left eye glowed with a soft blue light as he watched the scene unfold from the drone's perspective: his brother, Niata, standing in a scorched room across from the Guardian, Liosa. He was watching the training session, his mind a million miles away from the insult he'd just endured.
"Seems Niata is progressing really fast. He can already enhance his physicals," Toro murmured to himself as the elevator doors closed and he pressed the button for the 49th floor. "I expected no less from him."
"Hey Conscior, I'm assuming you're done?" he said, seemingly talking to himself inside the moving, sterile box.
"Yeah," a voice responded, not echoing in the elevator but sounding directly within Toro's mind. The voice of Conscior. "I finished inventorying and setting up our room an hour ago, around 10 a.m. How's Niata doing?"
"He is doing well," Toro replied, his gaze distant as he continued to monitor the drone's feed. "He has been waiting for this very moment."
The elevator doors slid open, and Toro walked out. The screen above the door read 'FLOOR 49'. The hallway was identical to the others, sterile, empty, and lined with numbered doors. Toro stopped in front of one marked '96, Toro Sanchez'. He reached for the doorknob, but the door slid open automatically before his fingers could touch it.
"Impressive work," Toro commented, stepping inside.
The room had been transformed. The standard sterile white walls were now covered in interlocking silver metallic structures. At the center stood a large, cylindrical containment unit, surrounded by a complex network of wiring. Soft blue light glowed from hidden channels along the walls. Standing in front of Toro was a short, slightly bulky robot, no more than a meter tall.
"Seems you were doubting me," Conscior said, rubbing his round metallic chin. His expressions, formed from blue pixels, flickered across a curved screen that served as his face.
"Yes," Toro replied casually, his attention elsewhere. He walked over to his bed and flopped onto it.
"No lab, then?" Conscior asked calmly, hovering over Toro on silent propellers.
"You heard everything through my audio sensors. That's a stupid question," Toro said, staring at the ceiling, his mind still tuned into Niata's training.
"Whoa, man, no need to be so harsh," Conscior replied, forming a pixelated expression of disgust as he floated away. "You made me build and install all of this because you knew you wouldn't get the lab in the first place."
I'm watching Niata, Toro communicated the thought directly to Conscior's processor. He's mastered physical enhancement. And he can fire an energy beam now. He's not the same Niata we knew.
I can't see anything, you know.
That's why I'm telling you, Conscior.
A shared, silent chuckle passed between them.
Yeah, but let's be honest, Conscior sent back, landing on the bed beside Toro and mimicking his posture. We're already ahead. We'd be further ahead if it weren't for your ego. Nepo baby.
"I can't believe my own creation is saying this to me," Toro said aloud with a light laugh. "But you're right. What any high level two Guardian can do, we can do. We can match the lesser capabilities of Essence. I think we're getting close to low level three."
"That's true..." Conscior replied, his pixelated face shifting to a more serious expression. "But there is an issue, right? We were told that Niata and two others will be going on the mission, but we're not."
Toro turned to look at Conscior. "I don't like it any more than you do, Conscior. But they say they need to create 'articulate tests' for us. It's a stupid notion." He got off his bed and slowly approached his desk, which was covered in multiple screens and advanced equipment. He tapped a console, bringing the screens to life, and sat down.
"We will join the mission. No worries," Toro said, his voice laced with confidence as he began swiping through data on the massive center screen. "We will just get there. And when we do, we'll one-shot the Derivatives with our first level."
"Yeah, boy! It's nuking time!" Conscior yelled, doing a small flip in the air.
"In the meantime, I need to check the progress on the bots," Toro said, his eyes fixed on the screens. What was on them wasn't clear, but Conscior flew off the bed and floated directly behind Toro to get a look.
"They are really far behind," Conscior said in a joking tone.
"They are a part of you," Toro deadpanned.
"And?" Conscior replied cheekily.
"Ha ha, so funny," Toro said sarcastically, picking up a small test tube half-filled with a clear liquid and swirling it absently. "You know you can track their progress yourself."
"Anyway, regarding the mission," Conscior said, his tone shifting back to business. "I don't recall Detective Tiamoth sending that message directly. It's meaningless unless we can confirm it's from him."
"I honestly don't care," Toro said, dismissing the concern. "The Overseer clearly recognizes potential. He allowed Niata to join five months late, and he allowed us in as well."
The deafening crash of Niata's energy beam finally faded, leaving a high pitched whine in his ears. His arm, which he was still supporting with his other hand, felt impossibly heavy, the muscles screaming in protest. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he staggered, the dim turquoise aura around his body flickering and dying like a spent match. He stared at the far wall. Where his beam had struck, there was now a new, deep crater, the metal of the wall blackened and melted at the edges.
"Ha! HAHAHA!" Liosa's booming laugh returned, echoing through the damaged hall. She got to her feet, brushing nonexistent dust from her armor. "Well, kid, you can definitely make a mess. I'll give you that."
She walked over to him, her expression a mixture of amusement and professional assessment. "The good news is you have the power. More than enough. The bad news is you have the control of a runaway freight train." She poked him in the chest. "You put almost everything you had into that one shot. You're running on fumes right now, aren't you?"
Niata could only nod, his breathing heavy. He felt drained, hollowed out.
"That's the cost of power, Niata," Liosa said, her tone serious again. "Especially your power. That eighty-five percent capacity means you have less in the tank than anyone else. You can't afford to waste a single drop."
She looked around at the two large craters and the scorched walls. "This is enough for today. Any more and you'll either pass out or bring this whole floor down on our heads." She gave him a reassuring smile. "You did good. Better than good. But now the real work begins."
"What's that?" Niata asked, his voice hoarse.
"Control," Liosa stated simply. "For the rest of the day, your only job is to feel that power inside you. Don't shape it, don't release it. Just sit with it. Acknowledge it. Get used to the feeling of it being there without letting it run wild. That's your homework."
With a final, encouraging pat on his shoulder, she turned and walked towards the wall. "I'll have them send a maintenance team. Try not to blow anything else up before tomorrow." The wall slid open, revealing a new elevator, and she was gone.
Niata stood alone in the silent, ruined room. The weight of the day crashed down on him. The nightmare, the memory loss, the revelation of his power, the looming mission... it was too much. He slowly sank to the floor, his back against a thankfully undamaged section of wall, and closed his eyes. He didn't try to form an orb or an aura. He just sat, feeling the quiet, humming core of turquoise energy deep within him, a sleeping giant he was now responsible for.
Meanwhile, in his newly customized room, Toro watched the drone feed go dark as Liosa left the training area.
"Session's over," he said aloud.
"His energy signature spiked, then dropped to near zero," Conscior noted, its pixelated face showing a graph. "He's exhausted. Pushing him into a mission tomorrow is... aggressive."
"It's necessary," Toro replied, turning his attention back to the screens on his desk. They displayed complex schematics, blueprints for machines far beyond what Lab 001 was working on. "Tiamoth knows what he's doing. Niata needs a trial by fire. And we," he added, a confident smirk touching his lips, "need an opportunity to show them what real power looks like."