"When you're ready, place your palm on the sphere; one hand would suffice," Doctor Dupont instructed Michael from the viewing room, Grace by his side. "Good. Now, you'll feel a push. Brace yourself. Don't do anything else, yet," he added.
Michael maintained his composure, holding the metallic sphere steadily, anticipating the surge of power emanating from the measurement tool. Initially, it felt like a sharp impact confined to his palm, but soon, it rippled through his entire being, engulfing him in sensation.
"When?" Michael strained to maintain his position.
"Not yet," Doctor Dupont's voice came from the speakers. "You're doing fine."
"I feel like truck-kun just ran me over, and I'm about to get isekaied," Michael gritted his teeth.
"Are you sure you're not high anymore, Michael?" Grace interjected, taking control of the microphone.
"No, he's just a fellow weeb," Doctor Dupont replied. "And surprisingly, a man of culture."
Michael nearly choked, momentarily thrown off balance.
"Yeah, I don't know what language you speak, but something tells me it's best this way," Grace's voice sounded again.
"It's called 'having a life beyond work and training'. Besides, if you wanted to maintain a professional distance, you wouldn't press me to do the test on your terms. Whitecoats are humans, too," Doctor Dupont retorted, his tone firm.
"Guys, when can I start to push back?!" Michael snapped, frustration evident in his voice.
"Whenever you're ready," Doctor Dupont finally approved. "Don't favor Build or Mentally, that's Physique and Psyche for you. Simply push with all you have. The Sphere of Measurement will interpret your trend and its strength."
Michael closed his eyes, focusing on the pushing force. It wasn't difficult. The force felt like a beacon around him, guiding him where to oppose, leaving him with the how.
'Wait!' Michael halted String from also pushing back. It wasn't doing it to help him; It was also discomforted by the test. String resentfully spun in his chest but obeyed.
Michael began to put weight on his palm and draw his Magick with all 141 Psyche stat points he temporarily possessed.
For a fraction of a second, the sphere's force spiked, then returned to its previous level before he called forth his power. This continued for about eight cycles – Michael had no mind to count while focusing his efforts on the test.
After the ninth spike, the reduction dragged the pushing force inside the sphere again, along with Michael's own energy. The pushing force completely disappeared, and Michael fell to one knee, drained, panting, with a throbbing headache, stabbing pain in his heart, and sweating more than he ever had in his life.
Doctor Dupont hurried from the viewing room with Grace close behind. He brought along a long, gray, thin blanket and wrapped it around Michael, leaving only his head exposed.
"This will help stabilize your Pool of Magick Ions. Unfortunately, there is nothing for the Mentality… Psyche," Doctor Dupont explained.
"You wanted me to take the test an hour before the fight?" Michael raised his head, scowling.
"You wanted to take a test, one which I warned you about, while not at peak condition?" Doctor Dupont shot back. "It's calculating the results, by the way. It'll be done in four to five minutes."
Michael's breathing gradually returned to normal. "You… You don't know the Hippocratic Oath, but you know what a 'weeb' is?" he questioned incredulously.
"Better than not knowing the consequences of signing a contract with a Demon, yet still obliging," Doctor Dupont replied pointedly.
Michael found himself at a loss for words. "You don't get to know the results!" he deflected, turning his attention to Grace with a smug expression.
"What did I do?!" Grace cried, genuinely perplexed.
"You promised to tell me how many Magick Ions you have if I let you watch during the previous test and later ignored me when the subject came up," Michael accused.
"Unscrupulous woman," Doctor Dupont chuckled.
"Want me to break your nose, weeb?" Grace threatened, half-jokingly.
"She's your Partner, Agent Mir. In fact, we're already doing so much for each other. Let's all be friends," Doctor Dupont intervened diplomatically.
"That's it, I'm calling you Mad Scientist. No, Mad Scientist Dupont!" Grace declared playfully.
"Between us, please," Doctor Dupont responded. Although he secretly found the title amusing and even a little endearing, he wished to avoid it spreading in the Bureau and potentially being summoned for a psychological evaluation.
"I'm serious," Michael insisted.
"Fine!" Grace raised her hands in surrender. "273, happy?!" she revealed, finally relenting.
"I thought you'd be around 300…"
"Forgot how Matteo beat you twice today with about as much?" Grace retorted.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
"Point taken. Not gonna say I'm happy. Gratified as your Partner, yes," Michael conceded.
After the session of bickering, the remaining minutes passed in peaceful waiting at Mad Scientist Dupont's office.
"The results are in," Mad Scientist Dupont announced, opening the notification on his tablet. "Oh, wow!" he exclaimed.
"Show us!" Grace urged eagerly.
"Build: 195 Magick Ions, one point away from a small threshold. Mentality: 134 Magick Ions. A total of 329 Magick Ions for your recovering condition. Not exactly the imbalance I expected, but if this trend persists, you're likely to end up as a purist," Mad Scientist Dupont revealed.
'It worked,' Michael thought, relieved. He had managed to control his output, releasing a slightly weakened total of 329 Magick Ions.
"How is his power scale?" Grace inquired, peering over his shoulder eagerly.
"Far from what should be his maximum," Mad Scientist Dupont remarked, sliding his chair away from Grace and refocusing his attention on Michael. "Below the Second Metamorphosis, one Magick Ion is equivalent to seven kilograms of strength, or seven MKG. Your Build possesses 195 Magick Ions. That's 1,365 MKG, and your Mentality adds another 938 MKG. In the test, a reading of 1,655 MKG was measured."
"Why so low?" Michael asked, surprised by the results.
"Well, generally, these results are common for those still learning how to use Magick. Additionally, you took the test while weakened," Mad Scientist Dupont explained.
'Did my control suck that much because my Psyche is little? It shouldn't be the case. The reason my Physique and Psyche share an equal amount of Magick Ions is the deal I'd made… If it was the same for everyone, then there wouldn't have been a trend to assess! Wait a minute…' A sudden realization struck Michael.
"Doctor Dupont," Michael refrained for a moment from addressing him by the new title, opting for a more formal tone. "There was a certain situation where I exerted force to stop two people, regular people. Back then, I had seven points to my Bu- Physique," he preferred to stick to the Condition Rune's terminology. "That's 49 MKG. All I did was stand in their way, but 49 kilograms shouldn't be difficult for two people to shove."
"That depends on how you applied those base 49 MKG. Let me simplify it for you, although it won't be entirely accurate, it will help you get the picture. Before you made the Demonic Contract, how much could you lift?" asked Doctor Dupont.
"That's…" Michael tried to estimate. He was never the kind of guy who worked out in a gym. "50 kilos, at best… maybe."
"For how long?" inquired Doctor Dupont.
"Less than a minute, probably," Michael admitted.
"Definitely," Doctor Dupont corrected. "Conversely, a person with 50 MKG can maintain their hold without dropping it indefinitely – true solely for the purpose of this explanation. When such a person adds movement, every motion of their body generates 50 MKG. Depending on the movement, the base 50 MKG can receive an extensive, temporary boost."
'So that's it…' Michael thought, grasping the concept, albeit partially. "During the two fights I had, my MKG was higher than 1,655."
"Unless you stood motionless, you're correct," Doctor Dupont affirmed.
"FYI," Grace chimed in. "Abilities, Spells, and all the rest are the best amplifiers of MKG. Similar to how martial arts can better a person without Magick."
"The difference between Matteo and my Magick Ions isn't that big. It seems I don't have a chance because of his Ability…" Michael concluded.
"It's a Spell. I found it at the Exchange Center. Cost fifteen freaking Merit Points. Do you really believe that you could win if he didn't have it?" Grace questioned.
"No," Michael didn't waste time answering. The Ability excuse was partial to begin with. "What happens at the Second Metamorphosis and onwards?"
"You'll need high Rank 1 clearance for the exact information of the Second Metamorphosis. High Rank 2 clearance for the Third and so forth," Doctor Dupont replied. "Essentially, the capacity of Magick Ions the Pool of Magick Ions can sustain significantly increases at every Metamorphosis, and from the Second Metamorphosis, the Magick Ions undergo a qualitative upgrade. One Magick Ion is greater than 7 MKG, at that point."
"Thank you," Michael exhaled deeply.
"You're welcome," Doctor Dupont smiled. "Now, if there's anything else, I'd like to get back to my original work. Sadly, your Demonic Contract didn't make you something out of the ordinary, at least not in a way that can be discovered by the Sphere of Measurement, so I must resume my previous engagements."
"Sorry to disappoint you," Michael half-sarcastically remarked.
"Yom asal yom basal," Doctor Dupont said cryptically.
And with that, Michael and Grace departed.
…
18:10
The 33rd Floor, Training Ground.
Michael sprawled on the Arena's stage as the blue cloud dispersed, indicating another win for Matteo.
"See you at ten," Matteo jumped out of the Arena without further words.
It was a shorter break than the one between the second and third fights, but Michael was also physically less hurt. Mentally…
His lips trembled as he bit his lower one. Blood trickled down his cheek. Fury, shame, and fear were palpable in his eyes and forehead.
Grace, as usual, was waiting outside the Arena. Seeing that he wasn't seriously bleeding and was quietly laying there, she left him be. Meanwhile, a new notification rang on his phone, lacking the element of bothersome revelation of the former three.
After several minutes, Michael finally got up and locked eyes with Grace.
"How do I do it… get stronger?" he asked earnestly.
"Now you ask?" Grace's curiosity was genuine.
"I wanted to look it up at the Exchange Center after having enough Merit Points. Clearly, the Training Ground is meant for Agents to get stronger, and I can tell most here are not at the First Metamorphosis. Meaning, there is a way without a Path," Michael explained.
"Two," Grace raised two fingers. "Two ways. The first is the General Path Guide. It's provided for free at the training program – well, it's up to you to obtain it freely. I use it for reference when I train. After becoming a First Level Metamorphosis, I'm considering purchasing one of the Advanced Paths it recommends. The Bureau prohibits sharing it, but I can make a request to Department Manager Tamara and have her get the approval."
"The second way?" Michael didn't want to rush his prospects.
"Paths are complicated. Although they don't guarantee success in Metamorphosis, having them is like standing on the shoulder of giants. You're not forging yourself like their creators. You risk the creators' limits becoming your own. And, whatever Abilities you gain may appear as one size fits all, but even when you perfect them, it'd never be to the creators' level."
"Then the other way…"
"Trailblaze-" Before Grace could continue, the thought already crossed Michael's mind.
'Same words as David's.'
"It's exponentially harder. According to several of the instructors in the training program, for most, it's a pipedream that is bound to fail. You must be beyond exceptional. You must be-" Grace began.
"Me," Michael blurted out.
"Or me," Grace snickered. "That state of mind."
"So why do you use the General Path Guide and plan to buy an Advanced Path?" Michael inquired.
"As I said, for reference. It's still a double-edged sword. I might get influenced by the content of the Advanced Path, or maybe even the General Path Guide before my Pool of Magick Ions is maxed, and stray into another's Path, rather than the open field I meant to trailblaze."
"What did people do before there was a General Path Guide or even Paths…" Michael wondered aloud.
"I don't know. They could have been beyond-beyond exceptional!" Grace shrugged. "Anyway, your problem isn't the absence of a Path. Not saying it won't be helpful to have one for reference, but your room for improvement doesn't solely rely on that," she circled him with a pointed finger. "Else, you wouldn't have suffered like this three times in a row."
"What's your solution, then?" Michael asked, curious.
Grace turned her finger to point at her own face, her grin eerily bigger. "Everyone's getting a piece of the pie that's supposed to be my Partner. Now it's my turn!"