Blake studied the southern perimeter of Rax's compound, his eyes tracking the sprawling mess of fortifications that stretched east and west. The barrier before him was a workshop in paranoid amateur engineering—jagged metal welded at odd angles, reinforced with whatever materials its builders had scrounged up. Despite its slapdash construction, or perhaps because of it, the wall radiated a distinct sense of menace that made his skin crawl.

Blake reached for [Warden's Insight], turning the metaphorical dial like he was cranking the volume on a stereo. The world shifted as he increased the mana powering the ability. His perception expanded, a rush of light and information—but unlike the normal transposition of this visual noise to his HUD, it remained a somewhat overwhelming haze of light and data.

"Kitt?" Blake inquired as he began to sort through the skill's output manually. "Are you on a smoke break?"

"Sorry, I was caught up thinking." Kitt's voice carried a note of excitement that made Blake pause. "Now that we're properly bonded, I should be able to tap into Warden's Insight directly. It's part of our shared core, after all."

"Ok," Blake frowned. "What would that do?"

"I see the world... differently." Kitt paused, searching for words. "As a vast web of interconnected nodes, each one bound by flowing streams of aether, nether, and mana. I don't have a good way to describe it in a way that translates to your senses."

"Sounds… Interesting. I definitely know some of those words," Blake said. "But you can feed all of that into Warden's Insight?"

"Not quite. It would expand the ability beyond just what your human senses can process. Insight should naturally provide a lot more data if we task it with building off of what I experience in addition to your normal human perspective. We'd pick up energy signatures, technological patterns, things that normally wouldn't register."

Blake's brow furrowed as he considered the offer. The tactical advantages were obvious—more data meant better decisions. The only question was whether he could process it all without becoming overwhelmed.

"You'll help filter the information?"

"Of course." Kitt's tone softened. "I wouldn't let you drown in it."

"Do it."

"One word of warning," Kitt added. "We're going to have to crank the skill up to full burn for a bit to get me integrated. You might want to be seated."

Blake squatted down into cover immediately, remembering how jarring his experience with increasing his Resonance had been. Then, sending a mental nod to Kitt, he cranked the power going to the skill.

He felt it when she added herself to the skill—it was unmistakable.

The world exploded.

Blake's knees buckled as reality fractured into a kaleidoscope of impossible geometries. The metal around him dissolved into streams of light and data, each piece of scrap broadcasting its material composition in alien mathematical formulas that burned across his vision. The ground beneath his feet transformed into a lattice of energy channels—roots of pure potential stretching down into depths his mind refused to comprehend.

His head spun as multiple layers of existence overlapped. The air itself came alive with currents of gold-white radience and veridian gloom, swirling in patterns that defied euclidean space.

Nearby material's structural weak points blazed like supernovas in his mind, while simultaneously existing as complex probability matrices and metaphysical stress fractures in space-time. Blake's consciousness stretched painfully as it tried to process the bombardment of information that existed beyond human sensory limits.

"Hold on," Kitt's voice cut through the chaos. "Let me filter this."

The overwhelming sensory assault began to organize itself. The cosmic mathematics faded to manageable data points. The impossible geometries collapsed into coherent tactical information. The burning streams of power muted themselves to simple indicators of energy flow.

Blake's ragged breathing steadied as Kitt adjusted their shared perception, bringing order to the chaos. The world settled back into something comprehensible—something that maintained the wealth of additional information while packaging it in a way his human mind could process.

"Better?" Kitt asked.

Blake nodded, still catching his breath. "That was... intense. Is that how you see things all the time?"

"More or less. Leviathans naturally see a lot of the dimensional underpinnings of reality, and the ability to integrate materials into their form requires further insights into the interconnectivity of… everything. Add in that I'm also a bio-morphic entity composed of a techno-organic nanite mesh, well… Yeah, I was literally built to process things differently. Your brain wasn't exactly designed for direct contact with the fundamental forces of reality."

"Right," Blake responded, still nonplussed. "All I know is it feels like you scrambled my brain like an egg."

"Sorry." Kitt didn't sound particularly sorry. "Let's take a minute to recoup?"

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

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"Alright, look—there's an access panel near that tunnel entrance. And... yeah, they've got some pretty serious surveillance gear set up around it. Motion sensors, thermal imaging, the works."

Blake focused on where Kitt indicated, noting how the tech signatures formed complex webs of detection zones. Two guards stood near the tunnel's entrance, their augmentations glowing like bonfires to his enhanced sight. Those two would have to go.

"What's your take, given the security?" Blake asked.

"Well, there's a single camera, but we can't do much about that without alerting the guards. We'll have to hope it isn't being constantly monitored."

"Likely," Blake responded. "Given the chaos of the battle."

"Right," Kitt agreed. "So we really just need to focus on taking out the guards. None of the other security measures should be an issue. They're likely there for when the entrance is unguarded. I'd wager they're in standby anyway, so as to not be sounding the alarm due to the guards' presence."

"Okay, perfect. So help me out with what I'm seeing on the guards."

"The guard on the left has a neural booster," Kitt described clinically as she highlighted the information on Blake's HUD. "He'll react faster than a normal person. Take him first."

"I can make that happen," He replied. "Any other augments worth worrying about?"

"Not if you can get them both quickly, no." Kitt's presence shifted, like she was leaning forward to examine something. "Right guard's got some basic strength enhancement in his arms, but nothing that'll help him dodge. Neural boy's the only real threat—if you let him process what's happening."

Blake raised an eyebrow. "You sound almost disappointed."

"Please. After that ferroghest? These guys are basically target practice." A pause. "Though I wouldn't mind if you showed off a little. Your knife work should be pretty spectacular given your new skills."

"I'm not a street performer," Blake said, rolling his eyes as he kept low, picking his way through the debris field.

"Oh come on," Kitt's tone dripped with mock disappointment. "Our ratings could use the boost. Maybe throw in a backflip?"

"I think I'll just do what needs doing," Blake slid behind a twisted sheet of metal, checking sight lines to the guards.

"Fine, be boring." Kitt huffed. "But at least make it clean. Whatever aeons are watching might mistake your dullness for efficiency."

"Kitt?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Kitt's laughter rippled through Blake's mind like water over stones, then faded to silence. Through their connection, he felt her approval wash over him as the pieces of his plan clicked into place. She held back further commentary, giving him the mental space to work it through.

Blake didn't give a damn about impressing whatever cosmic beings were watching him on "Gilded Asshole TV," but he wasn't an idiot. This world operated on realpolitik: if he wanted to have a say in his own destiny, he needed power. Stagnation would be the death of him.

The smart money said to play it safe—put bullets in the guards and call it a day. But something itched at the back of his mind, the same feeling he'd had during his last fight. He could do better. Push harder.

And, if it happened to give Kitt the entertainment she was looking for, that was just gravy.

Blake traced the optimal approach path with the synergistic information provided by [Warden's Insight] and [Unfettered Stride], mapping out each foothold and handgrip along the compound's outer wall. His HUD highlighted structural weaknesses that would work perfectly as anchor points. With Stride active, those small imperfections would be all he needed.

Moving to a position where he could approach the wall without being immediately spotted took another minute, but the guards remained stationary.

Blake took three measured breaths, centering himself on his task and mentally rehearsing his. The guard with the neural booster kept his head on a swivel—but he was focused on the horizontal. Classic mistake. People rarely looked up unless specifically trained to do so.

"Showtime," Kitt whispered in his mind.

Blake surged forward, darting to the wall while the guard was looking in the opposite direction. He hit the wall at an angle, and [Unfettered Stride] transformed the vertical surface into just another path, letting him run up it as easily as flat ground. His boots found purchase on the tiniest ledges and protrusions, carrying him upward in near-silence. He ran up as high as he could, hopefully putting himself above the guards' line of sight.

It worked. The guards remained oblivious below, their augmented senses focused outward rather than up.

Blake drew his knife as he took his next step, the phantom visions of [Unfettered Stride] confirming he was right on target to weaponize his position. Blake pushed off from the wall, gravity adding to his momentum.

With an effort of will [Phantom Edge] sprang into reality. Cobalt light spilled across the blade, making his eyes water as reality seemed to bend and fracture around the steel.

At the last moment, the guard saw him coming in from above and to his right. He turned, confused, and was rewarded with Blake slamming into his stomach with both legs, crashing him to the ground. Blake rolled with his forward momentum, allowing the motion to bring his knife down on the crown of the guard's head. There was a wet crunch as the blade sunk home, and Blake was already mentally onto the next target.

He released the knife handle, leaving the blade buried in its grisly sheath. The second guard was turning, augmented servos whining as he brought back his fist to deliver what would likely be a devestating strike if it was allowed to connect. Blake continued his roll, the motion as smooth as if it was practiced. His right hand found Verdict's grip. Before the guard's fist was fully retracted, Blake had Verdict pressed tightly against the man's armored torso.

Three shots rang out in rapid succession. Kitt’s specialized rounds punched through the cheap armor with devastating force, throwing the man backward at an angle. He slammed hard into the wall, staining it red.

Blake stood up and took aim at the guard's head. Verdict barked again, and the now nearly headless body of the second guard collapsed to the dirt. Blake turned back to the first man. He twitched weakly, his neural augments still firing random signals through his dying brain. A final shot from Verdict ended those signals permanently.

"Clean," Kitt whispered. "Though I think you scratched my finish during that roll."