It had been weeks since Theo had last seen another human being.

At first, the isolation was manageable. Training against Erasmus’s drones kept him occupied, honing his reactions, his precision, his endurance. The melee units had been tuned to become a challenge, forcing him to perfect his footwork and deal with abilities such as speed and shields. The ranged simulations had drilled into him the necessity of using cover, making him unpredictable in open space. Stealth opponents had nearly broken him originally, but after his implant was installed, he had adapted, reading motion patterns before they even struck. The psionic resistance tests were abandoned as he was all but immune. A natural counter to mind-based influence. A living blind spot in a world where perception was a weapon.

It should have been satisfying. It should have been enough.

But it wasn’t. At some point, the victories stopped feeling like victories.

Theo sat in the centre of the training chamber, breathing hard, sweat dripping from his brow. Another set of drones lay scattered around him in smoking heaps. He had just completed another randomized combat simulation, this time facing off against an adaptive squad of enemies meant to mimic a real-world threat. The problem was, they weren’t real. They were predictable, programmatic. No matter how much Erasmus adjusted their tactics, they lacked the spark of genuine danger, the uncertainty that came with an actual fight.

He was improving, but what was he improving for? A fight against more drones? A life spent sparring with machines? He’d spent his life throwing punches at guys with something to lose. Real people. Fighters with stories, grudges, desperation. These drones? They didn’t flinch. They didn’t fight back with anything real. He might as well be shadowboxing.

Here, in this underground fortress, he was beginning to feel like a rat running through an endless maze, chasing a reward he wasn’t even sure existed anymore.

He also came to realize he appreciated having people around more than he thought. He always portrayed himself as this lone wolf, street urchin. Over the years however, he had developed friends and even fans. He missed the crowd cheering for him, the attention he would get from women, the adoration in the eyes of younger fans.

Theo exhaled sharply, standing. His patience was thinning. His instincts screamed at him that he was stagnating. He had to get out.

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“Let me take a mission.”

Erasmus barely glanced at him from where he stood, adjusting the floating interface of his console. The glow from the holographic readouts cast sharp blue light over his angular features. “No.”

Theo blinked. “No? That’s it? Just no?”

Erasmus continued working, disinterested. “You’re not ready.”

Theo scoffed, stepping forward. “Bullshit. I’ve trained every damn day. I’ve fought every single thing you’ve thrown at me. I’ve mastered every counter, every engagement.” His voice rose slightly, a frustration he had been suppressing bubbling up. “And yet I’m still stuck here, playing whack-a-mole with your glorified Roombas. It’s not real, Raz. I need to get out there. I need to see how I handle myself in the world. Give me a recon task. Something simple. Let me prove it.”

Erasmus exhaled, finally turning toward him, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

Theo frowned. “What?”

“Why do you need to leave?” Erasmus’s gaze was piercing. “What’s out there that you think you need so badly?”

Theo’s jaw clenched. “A life. A real challenge. A chance to actually test myself, not just repeat the same simulations over and over. Maybe I can even make some friends? I appreciate all you’ve done for me, I really do, but this isn’t a game, Raz. It’s my life. You can’t keep me in a box forever.”

Erasmus tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating his next words carefully. Then, he sighed. “My drones are faster, more efficient, and infinitely less prone to emotional outbursts.”

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Theo let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. You don’t get it, do you?” he stepped forward, his posture tense, muscles coiled with barely contained frustration. “You think just because you’ve been alive for thousands of years, because you’re the smartest guy in the room, you always know best. But that’s not living, Raz. That’s just… existing.”

Erasmus’s face remained impassive, his icy blue eyes fixed on Theo with an expression that could have been mistaken for boredom if Theo didn’t know him better. “I ensure survival. I do not cater to childish impulses.”

Theo clenched his fists, his breath coming heavier. “And what if I don’t just want to survive? What if I want to be more than just another one of your projects? God forbid I actually want a life outside of your bullshit.”

Erasmus tilted his head slightly, studying him with the same clinical detachment he used when analysing his experiments. “A life? Is that what you think awaits you out there? You are deluding yourself, Theo.” He turned back toward his console, fingers tapping at the interface as if the conversation was already beneath his attention. “This world is not the one you came from. It is not waiting to hand you purpose. It will chew you up and spit you out, and I will not waste my time grieving when it does.”

Theo’s jaw tightened. “So that’s it, huh? You’ve already written me off.”

“I simply acknowledge probability,” Erasmus replied smoothly. “You may think you are prepared, but you are not. You have trained, yes, but you have only faced what I have allowed you to face. Out there, you will not have the luxury of calculated risk. No controlled variables. No second chances.”

Theo let out a slow breath, steadying himself. His pulse pounded in his ears, but beneath the anger, something colder settled in his gut. “You talk like you don’t even give a shit. Like none of this matters to you.”

Erasmus’s fingers hovered over the console for just a second—an almost imperceptible hesitation. Then, he continued working. “What matters is that when you leave, I don’t have to waste resources scraping your remains off some ruin.”

Theo took a step forward, his voice sharp. “Then let me prove it. Send me on a mission. Let me scout, gather supplies—hell, even one of your little scavenging runs. Give me something, anything, to show that I can handle it.”

Erasmus exhaled through his nose. “No.”

Theo scoffed. “No? Just like that?”

“Yes. Just like that.” Erasmus turned his head slightly. “You are still thinking like a human from a dying world—where exploration was a luxury, where failure did not mean eradication. That is not the world we are in, Theo. The strong do not simply find their way; they take it when they are ready. And you are not.”

Theo felt his nails bite into his palms. “And who the hell decides when I’m ready? You? I spent my entire life making my own way, and I sure as hell won’t stop now just because you’ve got some god complex telling you otherwise.”

Erasmus sighed, finally turning fully to face him. “You can walk out that door, but you’re on your own. No drones, no support, no safety net. If you think you’re ready, prove it.” His voice dropped slightly, an almost imperceptible edge to his tone. “I no longer care and I won’t entertain your tantrums.”

Theo took a step back, his breath steady but his body taut like a coiled spring. His voice, when it came, was quieter, but far heavier. “You care, Raz. But not enough to risk being wrong. And that’s why you’ll always be alone.”

Erasmus had already turned away and didn’t say a word. But his fingers hesitated over the console for just a fraction of a second—so quick that Theo might have imagined it.

Theo stared at him for another few seconds, waiting—daring him to say something. To show even another flicker of hesitation. To stop him.

But the old man simply continued his work, as if Theo’s departure was just another inevitable conclusion he had already calculated.

Theo exhaled sharply, jaw tight. His body knew what it wanted before his mind could catch up. Leaving meant stepping into the unknown—no drones, no resets, no guarantees. But staying? That was death of a different kind. His fists clenched, and he turned on his heel toward the exit.

He didn’t look back and Erasmus never called after him.

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The outside air hit him like a shock—crisp and untouched. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with something that wasn’t recycled. The world stretched out before him, vast and alien, a mix of biomes colliding in unnatural harmony. The sky was a swirling mix of deep blues and shattered purples, remnants of whatever cosmic force had reshaped this world.

He was really doing this.

For the first few hours, exhilaration carried him. He moved fast, covering ground, mapping terrain. But soon, the reality of his choice set in.

This wasn’t a training simulation. There were no reset buttons. If he miscalculated, if he made the wrong move, he would die. And as the first night fell, the true weight of his decision settled over him like a smothering blanket.

But Theo wasn’t one to back down. He had already started from scratch before. He squared his shoulders, gripping the straps of his pack tighter.

This was his world now.