[ Mastery Increased: Improvisation | Apprentice -> Adept ]

[ Mastery Increased: Warden's Insight | Apprentice -> Adept ]

[ Experience Gained: Roadwarden ]

[ Experience Gained: Unfettered Stride ]

[ Experience Gained: Battlewright ]

[ Experience Gained: Deadeye ]

[ Experience Gained: Physical Conditioning ]

[ Experience Gained: Squad Tactics ]

The status notifications blazed across Blake's field of vision in brilliant sapphire, a digital waterfall of achievement markers. He smiled: now he was getting somewhere. His muscles protested as he tried to stretch, working life back into limbs gone stiff from his cat nap. The hideaway's smooth walls hemmed him in like a steel straitjacket, scraping his shoulders when he moved. Not exactly the Ritz, but it beat being dead.

Blake shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position against the metal wall. "You have anything in mind for Clifford out there?"

"Actually, yes. It's time you started working to incorporate mana into your attacks." There was an expectant pause. "Your Battlewright title should make it relatively straightforward—"

"Wait a second," Blake cut in, his voice a hushed growl, though irritation sharpened the edges. "You’re telling me to funnel energy I barely comprehend into the only weapons I’ve got? I saw what happened to Eland when we first hooked him into the ship—fried that conduit to slag just because he lost focus for a second. Doesn’t exactly scream safe." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "How about we start with you explaining what this core of ours actually does before I blow myself up?"

"Fine," she sighed—a remarkably human sound for an entity that didn't actually breathe. "But you're not going to like it. It's another complicated topic."

"When isn't it?" Blake settled back, trying to ignore the way his muscles protested every movement. "Start with the basics. Just ease me into all the magic BS."

"Alright." Chimera paused, gathering her thoughts. "Our bond exists because I fused myself directly to your core. Since your core was so underdeveloped as to practically not exist…"

"Leviathan core," Blake finished. "Right. It makes sense that between the two of us, your influence would win out."

"Right... And you're okay with that?" Chimera's voice held an uncharacteristic note of hesitation. "Historically, you've been… protective. Of your autonomy, I mean. This feels like something you might resent me for."

Blake let out a quiet chuckle, wincing as the movement jostled his bruised ribs.

"Look, I'm not exactly an expert on cores or cultivation, but I know enough about math to understand that anything times zero is still zero." He shifted his weight, testing the strength left in his legs. "If I barely had a core to begin with, then whatever we've got now is mostly you. That's just logic."

The silence stretched for a moment before Blake spoke again.

"Besides, you're growing on me. Just a little." He patted the wall of their hideaway. "Like a very pushy, very opinionated fungus."

"A pushy fungus? Really?" Chimera laughed into Blake's mind. "That’s the best you could come up with?"

""Hey, you laughed," Blake smirked, shifting his position against the tunnel wall. "Don’t act like it didn’t land."

"Maybe I’m just humoring you," she countered, though her voice retained that lighter edge. "Anyway, back to the important stuff. Our core—specifically our core—is a Warp core."

Blake raised an eyebrow, though the movement was lost in the dimness around him. "Warp core? Like… faster-than-light travel? Are we talking spaceships here?"

"Not exactly," Chimera replied, her tone slipping back into that clinical precision he was getting used to. "Warp cores are unique to Leviathans. They're fundamentally tied to conceptual affinities of movement—not just physical travel across distances, but movement between states of being, between dimensions even. They’re powerful, but notoriously difficult to stabilize without a Pilot."

"That's a lot to take in," Blake said. "What's this affinity business?"

"Right," Chimera said. "Baby steps. Okay. Most cores—if they have any natural compatibilities at all—have simple, straightforward affinities: fire, water, metal, that sort of thing. Warp cores... they deal with higher concepts."

Blake frowned. "Define 'higher concepts.'"

"Like I was saying: space itself, gravity, travel, that sort of thing. The fundamental forces that let Leviathans traverse the void between stars." Her tone grew more animated as she continued. "Our core specifically has multiple primary affinities: Spatial manipulation, gravitational control, dimensional warping—"

"Back up," Blake cut in. "You're telling me we can bend space? Control gravity? And you're just mentioning this now?"

"At what point in the past week have you been prepared to do anything with this information?" Chimera countered. "Besides, it's not that simple. Power without understanding is worse than useless—it's dangerous. Remember what happened when you first tried cycling mana? Imagine that but you accidentally create a micro-singularity in your own chest."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Blake grimaced. The memory of that overwhelming, uncontrollable surge of mana during his awakening was still fresh.

"Point taken. So what's this about a pilot? You've called me that before."

"Leviathans are powerful, but they're not meant to operate alone," Chimera explained. "Their cores are too vast, too complex for a single consciousness to handle. That's where Pilots come in—they form a deep bond with the Leviathan, sharing the mental and spiritual burden of controlling such immense power. Two minds working as one, channeling enough force to bend reality and cross the stars."

Blake let his head rest against the tunnel wall, processing this new information. "And that's what we have? This... Pilot bond?"

"More or less." A note of hesitation crept into Chimera's voice. "You know I'm not exactly a true Leviathan… But, based on everything I know about my creation, the bond is unchanged. Really, it's the only thing that makes what I am work. So yeah, the bond we share is the real thing. Different circumstances, sure, but real.”

Blake let that thought settle for a minute. Chimera didn't interrupt him.

Blake leaned his head back against the cold, uneven surface of the tunnel wall, letting out a slow breath. The quiet hum of Chimera's presence lingered in the back of his mind like a radio tuned just shy of a clear station. Not intrusive, not grating—just there. A week ago, that would’ve been enough to set him on edge. Hell, the idea of something living inside his head had sent him spiraling into anger more than once. He didn’t trust easy, and something about being bonded to an experimental cybernetic symbiote just ticked every box on his personal “bad idea” checklist.

But things had shifted since then. Not in some grand epiphany kind of way, just... small moments adding up. Her voice wasn’t mechanical or cold; it was sharp and dry-witted, with just enough warmth to remind him there was something alive behind it. She didn't just bark orders or push her own agenda—she worked with him, thought through things alongside him. And she was smart. Too smart sometimes, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

Blake ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the grit of stubble under his palm as he mulled it over. He’d spent most of his life working with teams where trust wasn’t optional—it was survival. You had your squad’s back because you had to; because if you didn’t, someone ended up dead. Chimera wasn’t human, wasn’t flesh-and-blood like the guys he used to roll out with, but she’d proven herself in her own way. She hadn’t let him down yet.

That mattered.

He thought about the firefight earlier—her calm suggestions threading through the chaos as bullets flew and Ferroghests closed in. She hadn’t panicked or faltered. She’d been steady in a way that reminded him of Mendez back in the Chocó—Catalina had always been level-headed under fire, always thinking three steps ahead while everyone else was scrambling to stay alive. That kind of presence? You didn’t take it for granted.

And maybe that’s what this was becoming: not some weird parasitic nightmare as he’d feared at first, but something closer to having a member of his fire team on permanent comms. She was dependable. Hell, she probably knew him better than most people ever would—not just what he said or did but how he thought and reacted under pressure.

Blake let out another breath and rolled his shoulders, shaking off the tension knotting at his neck. Yeah, she’d earned her spot in the unit—even if that unit was just the two of them right now. Trusted and close—that’s how you survived when things got messy.

And things were always messy.

"So," he said, breaking the silence. "How do we actually use these affinities?"

"Carefully," Chimera said. "Very carefully. But in terms of immediate application—we can start with your weapons. Your Battlewright title gives you an intuitive grasp of combat-focused mana manipulation. Combined with our core's affinities..." She trailed off meaningfully.

"I don't know how far my mana goes as fuel, makes it hard to imagine what I'm supposedly capable of."

"Well, you could alter the weapon's effective mass mid-strike? Maybe even create localized spatial distortions to enhance penetration. There's a lot of potential options."

"That's..." Blake paused, processing the implications. "Actually terrifying."

"Hence why I wanted you to master the basics first." Her tone turned wry. "But we might have to accelerate the curriculum. You've gone and found something you probably can't just casually stab to death."

"Alright, you've made your point. Where do we start?"

"With understanding what you're working with. Close your eyes and focus inward, like when you're cycling mana. You've gotten pretty good at sensing your attributes down in your core space, but this time, try to sense the core itself."

Blake complied, letting his awareness turn inward. The familiar sensation of mana flowing through his channels was there, but now he pushed deeper, searching for something more fundamental. He brushed past the space where his abilities were housed, where he had earlier wrangled [Warden's Insight]. Past that was the area he associated with his attributes. But Chimera was right. There was something further—he had simply never needed to dive down this far before.

"There," Chimera said softly. "Do you feel it?"

He did. At the center of his mana circulation was something vast and strange—a well of power that seemed to bend reality around itself. Just brushing against it with his awareness made his head spin, as if he were suddenly looking down from an impossible height.

"That's... uncomfortable," Blake managed, fighting down a wave of vertigo.

"You're sensing the spatial aspects," Chimera explained. "The core naturally warps the space around it. It's how Leviathans create their own scope of influence—their personal reality, in a way."

Blake pulled his awareness back slightly, trying to process what he'd felt. "And this helps with weapons how, exactly?"

"Try this—hold out your knife."

Blake drew the blade, keeping it close in the confined space. "Now what?"

"Channel a tiny amount of mana into it, just like you would when cycling. But this time, try to feel how the energy interacts with the space around the blade."

Blake focused, letting a trickle of power flow into the knife. At first, nothing seemed different. Then he noticed something odd—the air around the blade appeared to ripple slightly, like heat waves rising from hot pavement.

"Good," Chimera said. "You're starting to see the spatial distortion. Now, try to direct it. Imagine the space around the blade becoming... sharper. More defined."

Blake concentrated, trying to shape the energy the way she described. The rippling effect intensified, and suddenly, the knife felt different in his hand—as if it had become more real somehow, more present in space.

"That's it," Chimera encouraged. "You're creating a localized field where space itself enhances the blade's cutting potential. Not much yet, but—"

A sound from outside the tunnel made them both fall silent. Heavy footsteps approached, accompanied by the whir of massive servos and the hiss of hydraulics.

Blake's grip tightened on the knife, watching the distortion effect ripple along its edge. The mutated Ferroghest was out there, possibly aware of their presence. But now, at least, he had a better understanding of what he was working with.

"Ready to test this against something bigger?" he whispered.

"Not remotely!" Chimera replied, her tone making Blake smile.

"That's the spirit."