The next forty-eight hours are a blur of intense training, strategy sessions, and team building. We practically live in the specialized training facilities my combat status gives us access to, pushing our abilities and testing combinations until we're ready to drop from exhaustion.

  Eli's progress is surprising, not mastery by any means, but significant improvement in basic control. When he focuses, he can maintain stable gravitational fields for nearly thirty seconds before the distortions start to waver. Still not combat-ready by normal standards, but we don't have the luxury of normal timelines.

  "Again," I tell him after another gravitational field collapses prematurely, sending training drones crashing into each other. "Focus on the center point, not the objects you're affecting."

  Eli wipes sweat from his forehead, exhaustion evident in his pale face. "I'm trying, man. This shit is harder than it looks."

  "Try thinking of it like a mathematical equation," Desta suggests from her observation position. "Consistent input parameters create predictable output results."

  He shoots her a frustrated look. "Yeah, that would be super helpful if I was a human calculator instead of a former warehouse security guard."

  Ember approaches, flames dancing slightly around her fingers. "Try this instead. Close your eyes." When Eli complies, she continues, "Now, feel the space around you. Not with your hands, with your mind. The gravity fields aren't separate from you, they're extensions of you."

  Eli's brow furrows in concentration, the air around him beginning to ripple. "I feel... something. Like pressure points in the air."

  "Those are your anchor points," Ember explains. "Build from there. Start small, just one field, make it stable before you try to do anything fancy with it."

  Under her guidance, Eli manages to create a single, stable gravitational distortion between his hands. It's small, but it holds steady for nearly a minute—his best result yet.

  "How did you know that would work?" I ask Ember as Eli continues practicing.

  We have exactly 48 hours until our first team match, and we're going to use every minute of it. I've secured access to one of the specialized training facilities that my combat status allows, a reinforced chamber designed for ability integration and team coordination.

  "Alright," I tell the newly formed Team Exodus as we gather for our first training session. "We have two days to transform from four individuals into a cohesive fighting unit. Let's start with basic capabilities assessment."

  Eli looks around the high-tech facility with wide eyes, clearly still overwhelmed by everything that's happened to him. The air around him ripples with uncontrolled gravitational distortions, causing small equipment pieces to shift erratically whenever he moves too quickly.

  "Should I go first?" he asks nervously. "Show you what I can do? Or, well, what I'm trying to figure out how to do?"

  "Let's see what you've got," I encourage him, creating a safe perimeter with my telekinesis to contain any accidents.

  Eli takes a deep breath and extends his hands. The air between them visibly distorts, like heat waves but more pronounced. Several training drones I've positioned nearby begin to drift toward this distortion, accelerating as they get closer until they're orbiting the gravitational well he's created.

  "That's the basic stuff," he explains, concentration evident on his face. "Creating attraction points that pull things in. I can sometimes reverse it too, make repulsion fields, but that's harder to control."

  As if on cue, the gravitational field inverts suddenly, sending the drones flying in all directions. One would have hit Ember if it hadn't been caught by my telekinetic field.

  "Shit, sorry!" Eli winces, the distortions around him intensifying with his embarrassment.

  "It's fine," I assure him. "Raw ability is there; control will come with practice. Desta, what's your assessment?"

  Our tactical specialist observes with characteristic precision. "Enhancement integration appears approximately 42% complete based on observed stability parameters. Gravitational field generation functional but lacks refined modulation capability."

  Eli looks at her blankly. "Is that... good?"

  "It means you have the power, just not the control yet," Ember translates, flames dancing along her fingertips as she demonstrates. "It's like when I first got my abilities. I could make fire, but controlling temperature, direction, intensity—that came later with practice."

  Over the next several hours, we run through basic drills, establishing a baseline for everyone's capabilities while developing fundamental team formations. Ember demonstrates her pyrokinetic precision, creating flames that burn at different temperatures, colors, and intensities. Desta shows the team her system interface capabilities, accessing training room controls directly through neural connection. I demonstrate my telekinetic and physical enhancements, though still keeping some of my most advanced molecular manipulation in reserve.

  By evening, it's clear we have potential, but we're nowhere near combat-ready as a unit. Eli's control remains problematic, Ember tends to operate independently rather than coordinating her attacks, and Desta's tactical insights don't always translate smoothly into immediate action.

  "We'll reconvene at 0600 tomorrow," I tell the exhausted team as we conclude the first day's training. "Get some food, get some rest, and be ready to push harder tomorrow."

  While the others head to the nutrition center, Ember pulls me aside. "When are you going to tell him?"

  "Tell him what?" I ask, though I suspect I know what she means.

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  "That you could fix his stabilization issues like you did with Desta," she says quietly, ensuring Eli can't overhear. "He's busting his ass trying to learn control the hard way when you could just repair his neural pathways."

  I sigh, having wrestled with this exact question since meeting Eli. "It's not that simple. The neural work takes time we don't have before our first match. And the facility's monitoring his enhancement integration closely because he's new. They might detect the changes."

  Ember studies me for a moment. "You're not telling me everything."

  She's sharp, no doubt about that. I glance over at Eli, then lower my voice. "The truth is, it's risky. If I mess things up with Eli, I could make it worse, maybe even cost him his powers completely."

  Looking back, I was reckless with Desta. Basically rushing blind into something I barely understood. Working on my own neural structure is one thing, but working on someone else's is orders of magnitude trickier.

  "Fair enough," she concedes. "But we should tell him it's a possibility for the future. Give him something to look forward to beyond endless drills."

  She's right. Honesty within the team is essential, even when the truth is complicated.

  The next morning, we focus on paired ability combinations rather than individual techniques. Eli and Ember work on coordinating gravity wells with flame projection, creating concentrated fire attacks that follow curved trajectories. Desta and I develop rapid communication protocols that allow her tactical observations to trigger immediate telekinetic responses.

  "Try to maintain a stable gravity field right here," Ember instructs Eli, indicating a spot between them. "I'll feed flame into it gradually. The goal is to create a sustainable fire vortex that intensifies through oxygen concentration."

  Eli's forehead beads with sweat as he struggles to maintain a consistent gravitational distortion. "It's like trying to hold water in your hands," he mutters. "Just when I think I've got it, it starts slipping through my fingers."

  "Focus on a single point in space," Ember suggests. "Like an anchor for your ability. It's not about forcing the gravity field to exist; it's about finding where it wants to be naturally."

  Under her guidance, Eli manages to create a more stable distortion. Ember carefully feeds a small flame into it, and the fire begins spiraling inward, growing more intense as the gravity well concentrates both flame and oxygen at its center.

  "Good!" she encourages as the fire vortex maintains for nearly fifteen seconds before collapsing. "That's twice as long as your last attempt."

  Meanwhile, Desta has been working on her own crucial task, gathering intelligence on our first opponents. Her system access has grown more sophisticated through our neural repair sessions, allowing her to probe match scheduling data that should be restricted.

  "Opponent identification confirmed," she announces midway through our second day of training. "Team designation: Vanguard. Roster includes four recently upgraded independents with complementary enhancement profiles."

  "What are we up against?" I ask, pulling up the holographic display.

  Desta activates her tablet, projecting four enhancement profiles onto the display surface.

  Primary: Asset 4218, designation Bulwark. Enhancement type: Molecular density manipulation, specialized in defensive fortification.

  Secondary: Asset 5367, designation Ricochet. Enhancement type: Kinetic redirection and acceleration.

  Tertiary: Asset 3729, designation Fathom. Enhancement type: Spatial distortion with limited phasing capabilities.

  Quaternary: Asset 6104, designation Static. Enhancement type: Bioelectric generation and nervous system interference.

  "Great," Ember mutters. "A tank, a redirector, a phaser, and a shocker. Perfect balanced team composition."

  Eli stares at the profiles with wide eyes. "These are the people we're supposed to fight? They look fucking terrifying."

  "They're strong," I acknowledge, studying the combat footage Desta has somehow extracted from secure facility records. "But like us, they registered as a team very recently. They're still working on coordination and team dynamics."

  "Their individual combat records indicate high victory percentages in solo matches." Desta notes

  "Team synergy is where we can beat them," I realize. "They might be individually powerful, but that's not enough for team matches. They're probably doing exactly what we're doing right now, trying to figure out how to operate as a unit instead of individual fighters."

  We just have to do it better than them.

  We spend our remaining training time analyzing Vanguard's fighting styles, identifying patterns and weaknesses, and developing counters specific to each opponent. Bulwark's defensive fortification makes him nearly impervious to direct attacks, but his offense is limited. Ricochet can redirect kinetic energy but shows vulnerability to thermal and gravitational effects. Fathom's spatial distortion creates confusion but requires concentration that can be disrupted. Volt's electrical attacks are devastating but follow predictable patterns.

  By the time we reach our final hours before the match, we've developed a comprehensive strategy based on our combined abilities. Not perfect by any means, but solid enough to give us a fighting chance against a team that outmatches us on paper.

  "Get some rest," I tell everyone as we break for our last few hours before the match. "We've done everything we can to prepare. Tomorrow we make our first statement as Team Exodus."

  Eli lingers after the others leave, the air around him rippling with nervous energy. "Can I ask you something?" he says, voice low.

  "Sure."

  "Why me?" he asks bluntly. "There must be dozens of fighters with better control, more experience. Why put your freedom on the line with someone who's been here less than a week?"

  It's a fair question, one I've asked myself more than once over the past two days.

  "Because you're not like most of the people in this place," I tell him honestly. "You haven't been broken down and rebuilt in the facility's image yet. You still remember what it means to be human, not just an asset with a designation number. That matters."

  He looks surprised by my answer. "That's... not what I expected you to say."

  "What did you expect?"

  "Something about my 'gravitational manipulation potential' or whatever," he admits. "Some strategic bullshit about team composition."

  I laugh despite myself. "Those factors matter too. But team cohesion isn't just about complementary abilities; it's about trust and shared purpose. You want freedom as badly as the rest of us, maybe more because your memory of the outside world is still fresh. The most powerful assets here, they've gotten too comfortable, I'm not sure if they're even fighting for their freedom or to just show off."

  They are at the top of the facility's hierarchy, enjoying far more privileges than back on Earth. They may claim to want freedom, but are they willing to put their lives on the line for it? To train as desperately for it as we do?

  Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had taken up the Crystalline Consortium on their offer. Would I still be fighting as desperately for freedom as I am right now?

  Eli nods slowly, the gravitational distortions around him settling as he processes my words. "I won't let you down tomorrow," he promises. "Whatever it takes."

  "I know," I tell him, meaning it. "Now go get some rest. First match is in just a few hours."

  As he leaves, I remain in the strategy room, reviewing our plans one final time. Ten consecutive victories for team freedom. Tomorrow we take the first step on that long road, with a gravitational rookie, a restored technokinetic, a pyrokinetic with a chip on her shoulder, and me, a telekinetic pretending to be much less dangerous than I actually am.

  Team Exodus. Not the team anyone would have predicted, but maybe exactly the team needed to win it all.

  CHARACTER PROFILE

  Gary (PROTAGONIST)

  STR: 46(+9) - Highly enhanced strength

  SPD: 54(+10) - Highly enhanced reflexes

  RES: 39(+7) - Significant damage resistance and recovery

  CTL: 86(+9) - Incredible telekinetic power, and control

  AWR: 53(+7) - Excellent perception

  Primary: Advanced Telekinesis (Molecular manipulation, Neural Architecture Modification)

  Secondary: Physical Enhancement