Theo sat on the cold metal slab of Erasmus’s lab, legs dangling off the side as he watched the older man tweak and modify the glowing ocular implant hovering in mid-air. The faint blue light of the device reflected in Erasmus’s icy eyes, making him look even more like some kind of futuristic warlock than an engineer. The room hummed with quiet energy, the overhead lighting casting sterile white beams against the metallic surfaces.

"You’re sure this thing won’t turn me into a cyborg freak?" Theo asked, crossing his arms.

Erasmus sighed through his nose. "Yes, Theo. That would require much more extensive augmentation, which, believe me, I’d love to do if only to cut down on your questions."

Theo smirked. "You love my questions."

Erasmus didn't look up from his work. "Every question you ask shaves a decade off my lifespan."

The implant was almost ready. A sleek, small device—more like an extension of the body than a foreign object. “Unlike your species’ clunky cybernetics, Catalyx enhancements are seamless. No bolts, no wires, no unnecessary suffering—unless I decide otherwise. This isn’t some clunky metal eye replacement. No, this is an adaptive ocular enhancement, refined to work with your own biological functions, processing speed, and reflexes. “It was very different from working on standard Catalyx biology, but you have enough in there to support the technology.” Erasmus glanced over at him, reading the slight tension in his posture. "Nervous?" he asked, voice neutral.

Theo rolled his shoulders. "I’d be lying if I said no. Having you poke around in my head isn’t exactly a spa treatment."

Erasmus made a noncommittal noise and gestured toward the reclined chair in the centre of the lab. "Lay down. This will be uncomfortable."

Theo climbed onto the chair, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

“Only the ones strapped to my lab chair,” Erasmus quipped as he tapped a control panel, and mechanical arms whirred to life, descending toward Theo with precision. The moment the cool metal of the scanner touched his temples, he felt a sharp pressure spike behind his left eye.

"Shit—what the hell?!" Theo's grip tightened on the chair as a spike of pressure stabbed behind his eye. It took everything he had to not let out the scream trying to escape.

Erasmus barely glanced at him. "Your optic nerve is fusing. Slowing it down would only mean more suffering. Your choice."

Theo clenched his jaw. "Just get it over with please."

The pressure built into something sharp, something deep. It wasn't pain in the traditional sense—it was as if something was growing behind his eye, like a new limb forcing its way into his perception. His vision blurred, black static creeping into the edges of his sight. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, refusing to make a noise.

And then, suddenly, everything snapped into place.

The black static faded, replaced by an overwhelming flood of information. The room was… clearer. Not just brighter, but more defined. Tiny movements of the machinery flickered in his peripheral vision, as if his brain was catching up to things he had never noticed before. A faint grid-like overlay flickered across his vision as it mapped the room automatically. He turned his head slightly, and a predictive line traced where Erasmus was likely to move next based on his body language.

Theo exhaled sharply. "Oh my gentle Jesus. I’m officially a sci-fi protagonist now."

Erasmus tapped a few more commands on the console, watching Theo’s reaction carefully. "You’re processing at an acceptable rate. Any nausea? Vertigo?"

Theo shook his head, then paused as his vision lagged slightly before catching up. "Whoa, okay, yeah, that was weird."

"Your brain is adjusting to the input," Erasmus explained. "Give it a few hours, and it will feel natural. The implant is designed to predict movement based on visual cues. It won’t read minds, but it will anticipate patterns, allowing you to react faster."

Theo blinked, staring at his own hands, watching the tiny micro-twitches in his fingers be mapped out before he even consciously moved them. "This is insane. So this is what it feels like to be you?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Erasmus smirked. "Hardly. But it’s a step up from your previous reaction speed which was akin to a particularly excitable potato."

Theo sat up, rubbing his temples. "Alright. I think I’m good. So when’s the test run?"

Erasmus’s smirk widened. "Now."

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Theo stood in the middle of the darkened training chamber, his heart pounding in anticipation. The room was massive, filled with shifting walls, raised platforms, and dim lighting that flickered intermittently. It was a perfect hunting ground—for his opponents.

Erasmus’s voice crackled through the speakers. "This time, the stealth units are adaptive. You’re no longer fighting pre-programmed drones. These are real combat AI, trained to hunt, predict, and eliminate targets."

Theo cracked his neck. "Oh, so we’re skipping the baby steps, huh?"

"I don’t coddle lost causes," Erasmus replied dryly. "Survive for ten minutes. Bonus points if you actually take one down."

A chime echoed through the room.

Then, silence.

Theo took a slow breath, his new vision flickering to life. Shapes sharpened, movements traced in ghostly lines before they even happened. Tiny fluctuations in the air were being registered, marking subtle disturbances. His brain screamed at the overwhelming data, but his instincts—those, he trusted.

There.

A flicker in the shadows.

Theo spun just as the first attacker lunged. His arm came up instinctively, attempting to deflect a knife strike that had been aimed at his ribs. The moment of impact triggered a kinetic surge in his mesh, and he twisted, slamming an elbow into the enemy’s torso.

The figure staggered back, nearly silent. No heavy breathing, no unnecessary movements. It was eerie.

Theo grinned. "Alright. This might actually be fun."

The next attack came from above. Theo didn’t even have time to react before he stumbled forward, landing on his front. He used the momentum to roll, swivel, and locate his attacker.

The voice of judgement came through the speakers. "You’ve clearly been watching too much anime if you think you can stop to quip after every strike you land. Focus, Theo!"

Theo felt small as he absorbed Erasmus’s words. He had been a dedicated fighter before the Exo-Genesis changed everything; now, he needed to reclaim the same hunger he had as a penniless, rising competitor.

As his thoughts churned, a new warning flashed. Movement to his right—his attacker was making a move.

Theo saw it a fraction of a second before it happened—an overlay predicting the assassin’s descent from the ceiling rafters. He ducked and rolled forward, just narrowly avoiding a blade slicing through where his neck had been.

"Better," Erasmus noted. "But they’re not even using their full speed yet."

An hour passed. At first, all he could do was survive. But then, the gap closed. He dodged faster. His hands caught strikes almost before his brain even processed them. He was keeping up. Theo didn't have time to respond before another attacker struck. This time, his body reacted entirely on instinct, his new vision tracking everything in ways his human eyes never could. He weaved under the strike, twisted, and grabbed the attacker’s wrist mid-motion.

For the first time, he was keeping up.

He used the stored kinetic energy from the previous blows and snapped his opponent’s arm backward. There was no scream—just a sharp, controlled breath from the figure before they disengaged and melted back into the shadows.

Theo panted, his eyes darting as he scanned the room.

He could beat them.

For the first time, he knew he could beat them.

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The lights flickered back to full brightness, revealing three disabled stealth units sprawled across the training floor. Theo was on one knee, sweat dripping down his forehead, but he was grinning.

Erasmus strolled into the room, hands in his coat pockets. He glanced at the broken drones, then at Theo, expression unreadable.

"Not terrible," he admitted.

Theo laughed breathlessly. "You truly are an inspirational wordsmith."

Erasmus smirked. "Don’t get used to it."

Theo pushed himself to his feet, rolling his neck. He could still feel the implant adjusting, his mind catching up to what his body had just done—but he had done it. He had faced an opponent that, just a week ago, had annihilated him—and now, he had fought back.

He turned to Erasmus, his grin widening. "So, what’s next?"

Erasmus’s smirk deepened. "Oh, now we really start."