The two hours until Eli's release from medical crawl by like years. I spend the time reviewing Ember's combat footage, analyzing her pyrokinetic capabilities to better understand how gravity manipulation might complement her abilities. Her fighting style is precise, controlled bursts of intense heat rather than wild firestorms, perfect for targeted amplification through gravitational fields.

  I deliberately avoid responding to the growing queue of messages from facility administrators and potential recruits. Let them wait. The decisions that matter happen on my timeline now, not theirs.

  When the time finally comes, I make my way toward the Null allocation area where Desta arranged our meeting. The facility's layout creates a strange borderland where classifications blur, maintenance tunnels, storage zones, and medical recovery chambers that serve both independents and Nulls without strict separation.

  Desta waits at the designated intersection, her expression neutral but her eyes alert. "Subject released from medical stabilization four minutes ago," she informs me as I approach. "Currently proceeding to meeting location through service corridor 12-B."

  "What else should I know before meeting him?" I ask, wanting to be prepared.

  "Enhancement stabilization issues manifest as occasional gravitational disruption within three-meter radius," she explains quietly. "Non-dangerous but potentially disorienting. Subject demonstrates advanced control parameters despite recent implementation."

  We move through the dimly lit service corridors, avoiding main thoroughfares where my newly famous face might attract unwanted attention. After my arena performance, stealth has become a tactical necessity rather than just habitual caution.

  The meeting location is an unused storage chamber with minimal surveillance, the kind of space that exists in the margins of facility attention. As we enter, I immediately notice the figure waiting inside, a tall, lanky guy with pale skin and dark eyes that seem to absorb light rather than reflect it. His standard-issue medical recovery uniform hangs loosely on his frame.

  Most striking is the subtle distortion in the air around him, like heat waves rising from hot pavement but moving in unnatural patterns. Small objects in his vicinity, dust particles, a forgotten stylus, a scrap of packaging material, orbit him in erratic paths as if caught in miniature gravitational fields.

  "You're Eli?" I ask, approaching carefully.

  He turns quickly, startled by our entrance. The objects orbiting him suddenly scatter, some shooting toward the ceiling, others dropping to the floor. "Shit, sorry about that," he says, his voice carrying none of the facility's clinical precision. "Still getting used to... whatever the hell this is."

  He gestures vaguely at the space around him where the air still ripples slightly. His eyes widen as he gets a better look at me. "Holy fuck, you're the guy who took out Tremor with one punch, aren't you? That was insane, man."

  This is definitely not what I expected. Desta described someone with "gravitational manipulation" abilities, but this kid seems more like a civilian who just got dropped into this nightmare.

  "I'm Kinetic," I confirm, adjusting my approach. "This is Desta. We're here to talk about Team Exodus."

  "Right, yeah, the Null mentioned something about a team when she messaged me." He glances at Desta with curiosity rather than dismissal. "How'd you even find me? I've only been conscious for like three days since they did whatever they did to me."

  "System access identified enhancement parameters compatible with team configuration requirements," Desta explains simply.

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  Eli runs a hand through his dark hair, clearly overwhelmed. "Look, I barely understand what's happening to me. Yesterday I was trying not to float off the examination table, and today you're talking about teams and competition and—" He stops, taking a deep breath. "Sorry. It's been a weird fucking week."

  I can relate to that feeling more than he knows. "How much have they told you about your abilities?"

  "Just that I'm some kind of 'gravitational manipulator' whatever that means," he replies with a frustrated gesture. A small metal container on the floor suddenly slides toward him, then shoots away. "Shit, sorry. Happens when I get worked up."

  "When did they bring you here?" I ask, curious about his background.

  "I dunno, maybe a week ago? I was working security at a warehouse back in Denver. Night shift." His eyes darken with the memory. "There was this light, and then... nothing until I woke up in a medical pod with doctors talking about 'enhancement integration' and 'gravitational field parameters.'"

  A fresh abduction. Must be part of their recent recruitment surge. Like me, expect way more disoriented.

  "The system is offering a way out," I explain, getting to the point. "Ten consecutive team victories in the arena, and we earn our freedom. Back to Earth."

  Eli stares at me, hope and skepticism warring in his expression. "For real? They'll just let us go if we win some fights?"

  "That's what they're promising," I confirm. "We're forming Team Exodus specifically to pursue that objective. We need a fourth member with abilities that complement ours."

  He laughs, a short, nervous sound. "And you want me? I can barely control whatever this is." He gestures at the air around him, which ripples in response. "Yesterday I accidentally crushed a medical scanner just by looking at it."

  "Raw potential matters more than refined control," I tell him. "We can help with the control part. What matters is that your gravitational abilities could work perfectly with our team configuration."

  Eli looks between us, confusion clear on his face. "I don't even know what I can do yet, how can you be so sure?"

  "Your abilities create localized gravitational fields," Desta explains. "Potential applications include defensive shields, offensive force projection, and enhancement amplification for team members."

  "I've been here longer than you have," I add, seeing his continued skepticism. Though I leave out just how much longer. "Trust me when I say that finding the right team is your best chance at both survival and eventual freedom. Trying to go it alone in this place is a good way to end up dead or worse."

  Eli's quiet for a moment, the floating objects around him settling as he considers. "So who else is on this team?"

  "You'd be our fourth member," I explain. "There's me, Desta here for tactical support, and Ember, a pyrokinetic."

  "A what now?"

  "She controls fire," I simplify. "Your gravity abilities could potentially focus her flames, direct them, make them more powerful."

  He whistles. "That sounds... actually kind of badass." A small smile forms, the first I've seen from him. "Though I'm not sure how much help I'll be if I can't stop randomly sending shit flying across the room."

  "We can help with that," I assure him. "I've worked with Desta on similar issues. There are techniques for stabilizing enhancement integration."

  Eli looks down at his hands, where the air visibly distorts around his fingers. "It's not like I have a lot of options, is it? Either join your team or try to figure this place out on my own."

  "Pretty much," I acknowledge. No point sugar-coating it.

  He sighs, then nods. "Alright, I'm in. Team Exodus, fighting for freedom and all that." His attempt at bravado is undermined by the nervous way he glances around the room. "Just don't expect miracles right away, okay? Three days ago I was a normal guy working a shitty job. Now I'm... whatever the hell I am."

  "Welcome to the team," I tell him, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and concern. Eli's raw potential seems significant, but his lack of experience and control presents challenges I hadn't anticipated. Still, there's something refreshingly human about him compared to the clinical precision that dominates most enhanced assets in this facility.

  "So what happens now?" he asks.

  "Now we register you officially, start training together, and prepare for our first match," I explain, already thinking through how to accelerate his development. "We've got forty-eight hours to turn four individual fighters into a cohesive team."

  "No pressure or anything," Eli mutters, but there's determination behind his nervousness. Whatever else he is, he's a survivor, you don't last even a week in this place without that basic quality.

  With Eli completing our roster, the real work begins now.