Chương 366: Chapter 357 - Next Generation

Alonso leaned back as a sword hissed past his throat—so close he felt the wind split, a thin streak of cold racing down his skin. Sand shifted beneath his heel as he retreated half a step, sweat beading along his temple. He drew a shallow breath, timed the rhythm, and feinted low with his left blade. Darius read it instantly.

Alonso pivoted and drove his weight into a snapping low kick, aiming to break the stance— —but Darius flowed aside, foot sliding through the dust with the ease of a man dancing with gravity itself. A blade rose. A cut— No. Alonso's eyes widened. Not a cut. A thrust. Before he could twist away, steel slid through his heart. A cold bloom. A flash of white. Then he was standing at the edge of the arena again, breath spilling out in a long, tired exhale.

"Fooled again," he muttered with a wry smile. He replayed the last exchange in his mind, step by step, anchoring each mistake, each breath, each shift of weight. His chest rose and fell steadily as he recovered his stance for another round. But then— A prompt rippled through his awareness. Ayu Narongsak has invited you. Do you accept? Ayu? He nodded toward Darius.

"We'll continue later." And his consciousness snapped back into his real body. Heat still lingered on his skin from the hot shower. He wore fresh clothes: a loose white shirt, grey sweatpants… and bare feet against the cold, smooth floor. He accepted Ayu's invitation. He blinked, and he appeared in her chamber. The first thing he saw well… was her. Now that she'd showered and was wearing modern-earth casual sport clothes she looked… damn. But he kept that to himself as he noticed they weren't alone.

"Oh, Imani, didn't reckon seeing you here," he smiled. His big friend had a heavy feel behind his eyes, but it seemed more resolve than grief at this moment. That was good.

"Since I am transitioning to the Extreme Body State, I thought I might take some advice from the expert on the path of the Beastmen."" The Way of the World, huh," he nodded. It made sense. He also thought someone like Imani, with his Awakening, could thrive down that path. That wise air behind the brawn had been his first impression of him after all.

"Well, straight to the point, Imani and I were talking about Primal Flow, and that brought Will into the conversation, and just like he said, I also thought about calling the expert," she smiled as she looked at him, a bit too pleased with herself. Alonso chuckled.

"I see, but not sure how much of an expert a guy is when he's still figuring things out himself," he said as he approached.

"And by the way, not that I'm against it, but with so many chairs around… is it really necessary to sit on the floor?" Ayu stared daggers at him.

"Yes, it is."

"Fair enough," he sat cross-legged and leaned back, then sniffed the air.

"Hmm… smells good. You got the same as last time? Mind sharing?"

"Let's talk first, eat later," she said with a grin.

"Alright, let's get to it." He looked at Imani.

"Will. Hmmm. Hard to put into words, but let's use an analogy. Do you remember the white rooms? When we first had to use our EM waves to detect the structure behind the wall?" Imani nodded.

"Back then, it felt surreal, right? Like you weren't exactly sure what it was. And not everyone even treated it as EM waves—some saw it as a mystic power, magic, whatever. But the fact is… it's a capability that came from expanding our brains, or better said, evolving them, and the birth of the Pillar and all that. It took us time and Stage Progress to properly grasp it and control it. Now… Will isn't the same, but from my point of view it isn't very different from that first interaction.

It's a power that has come from evolution. The difference is that electromagnetism is a force we humans already understand—we've studied it for more than a century. Will is something we don't. Meaning, there's no reference we can use to build on. We have to learn to master it slowly." Imani slowly nodded and spoke:"That makes sense. I, for one, did not treat the waves at the start as EM in nature. The thought did not pass my mind.

I felt it as a divine or cursed power—something that let me sense beyond what eyes can see. In my homeland, we have something called Isithunzi —the Shadow-Self. It is believed every person carries a presence beyond flesh, something that warns, guides, or haunts depending on how you live. Old warriors said they felt their Isithunzi tug their spirit when danger hid nearby." He exhaled through his nose, slow and steady.

"I was never a strong believer. But back then—with the hunger, the strangeness of it all, the fear of not seeing my family again… I did become one. And perhaps… that was what carried me to the next stage." Alonso nodded, the motion slow, almost weighted. Imani's words stirred something familiar—an echo of those early days when none of them understood what was happening. He remembered the haze of his own frenzy in the white rooms, the way he had sworn he felt his father's presence pulling him back from the brink.

Hallucination or miracle, it had saved him. And it seemed each of them had their own stories regarding those trials.

"Belief," he said quietly. The word settled between them like a truth neither had dared name.

"I think that's the key to what Will really is. A power born from it—rooted in our minds, yet strong enough to leave a real mark on the world." He paused, letting his thoughts circle inward.

"It isn't like EM mastery. That's something we can shape, break apart, analyse. Will... doesn't have a path. It's not a technique you refine. It's something you step into without knowing where your foot will land." His gaze drifted to his hands before returning to Imani.

"It's closer to a leap of faith. And maybe that's the truth of it—just like back then, when everything was collapsing around you, you anchored your mind to something that kept it steady, kept it alive long enough to push through. Maybe for me it was the same in this fight," he admitted quietly, his eyes shifting to Ayu as the echo of her screams flickered through his memory.

"I desperately needed something… and I believed. I believed I had the means to make it through. I believed in myself, and in everything that had brought me to that moment. And… I made that real." Imani remained quiet as he absorbed the words in silence. Ayu narrowed her gaze as she stared at him.

"What you did back then… did The Tower recognise it as a skill?" This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Alonso nodded.

"Yes. It called it… Will Manifest."

"Will… Manifest," she repeated, tasting the words.

"So it is indeed different from Primal Flow."

"Yes. Even if both tap into the same type of power, they're different techniques—or I'd even say different paths entirely. From what you told me, Primal Flow comes from a martial way that blends the power of the body, your attunement to the world, and materialises Will through that foundation. And it channels what you call weight. But that weight—your emotions, your desire, your confidence… that's also a kind of belief in your path." Ayu's gaze sharpened with understanding.

"Do you suggest I find my own path or follow the Way of the World?" Imani suddenly asked him. Alonso shrugged.

"Well, ultimately, I still believe Will has to be rooted in something. It's not magic. You need a foundation for it. My case is very particular, since I follow a path of my own creation—one that resembles the form you probably saw when I used Will Manifest. But my path won't be suitable for others." He paused, letting the point settle.

"While a simple answer to your question would be yes, to find your own path, I think your style aligns very well with the path Ayu follows. So maybe try that first, and maybe later use it as inspiration to craft something uniquely yours." Imani's shoulders eased as he accepted the point.

"Alright. Thank you for the explanation." He turned to Ayu.

"And I really appreciate you sharing your methods and skills."

"Don't sweat it," Ayu said with a dismissive wave.

"Well, time for dinner then," Alonso grinned.

"I'll bring some paella to share too." Imani stood and looked at the two of them. The young couple needed their time—he had intruded enough.

"I'll pass this one. You two enjoy it. We can get together later." His gaze drifted to the frozen timer.

"It seems we'll be here for a while. Time isn't something we currently lack." Alonso focused on the numbers on the wall. They had discussed it earlier, and all of them agreed the only thing they could do now was wait. He was certain they would be allowed to continue sooner or later… but when?

"Alright. Next time you're inviting then."

"Sure," Imani said with a small nod—and disappeared from the chamber. Alonso stared at Ayu as silence settled around them, warm and heavy.

"Well… shall we eat or…?" Ayu arched a brow.

"You're the one who said you'd bring paella. Don't tell me you're backing out now." He opened his mouth to answer—but nothing came out. Because suddenly he noticed the way she sat, the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath the loose top. The faint droplets still clinging to her collarbones. The way her damp hair traced the curve of her neck. Her scent—warm skin mixed with the sweetness of her shampoo—still hung in the air, tugging at something low in his stomach. Ayu watched him, head slightly tilted.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"The food…" he began, voice low, "can wait." The descent lasted nearly four minutes. The platform hummed beneath their feet—smooth, silent, and stable—as it dropped through layers of reinforced alloy, thermal shielding, and something none of them could name. Mei felt the pressure shift in her chest, a subtle squeeze that reminded her how far down they were going. Ishaam clenched and unclenched his fists. Even Diego, usually talking nonstop, stood quiet, eyes wide. A soft chime rang, and the doors opened.

Cold air—not natural, but filtered and sterile—rolled over them as they stepped into the heart of the facility. A cavernous hall expanded before them, lit by soft bands of pale-blue luminescence. Sleek structures rose like pillars of glass and metal, alive with flowing data. Transparent walkways crisscrossed the enormous space above them, each carrying technicians in dark uniforms. Mei extended her EM waves on instinct.

The world exploded with structure—layers upon layers of shielding, complex fields she could barely decipher, machinery so intricate it felt almost alien. She pulled back with a small, startled breath and steadied herself.

"This place…" Camila whispered, awe colouring her voice.

"It's like the future." Mei nodded. Bootsteps echoed. They turned as Viktor appeared—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark suit reinforced with a faint metallic mesh beneath. His presence hit like a controlled storm, but his expression carried warmth.

"Gen-1," he said, stopping before them.

"Welcome to the Core Vault of the Ascension Directorate." Ishaam straightened instinctively. Diego tried to hide the way his heart was hammering. Mei dipped her head politely, though her palms had grown slightly damp.

"You have done us a great service," Viktor continued.

"You brought back record levels of knowledge, new frameworks, and methods we have never conceived of. Because of you—humanity now stands a chance." Mei felt her throat tighten. She wasn't good with praise, especially not when it came from someone of his position.

"You did not just serve yourselves," Viktor said, his voice softening.

"You served the entire mankind. And now… while others chose to remain and enjoy their deserved time, you chose to be here, with us, making a change… to prepare not just the next generations but yourselves too for the Third Ascent. For that"—he bowed deeply—"we cannot be grateful enough. Truly… thank you." Mei and the others felt awkward.

They all understood enough to grasp the weight of the man standing before them—someone whose authority would make the presidents of their home countries look small—and yet here he was, bowing to them. It didn't feel real. Mei's thoughts slipped back to the moment she had reappeared, certain she had reached the end, only to be given a second chance.

She remembered returning to Hong Kong and finding that the cramped student accommodation she had lived in during her Master's had been transformed into a luxury mansion for her family and friends. She remembered her parents—how they had cried when they saw her, how they had held her without even a flicker of fear or distance despite what she had become. That was when she realised it wasn't just this organisation supporting them. The world itself had embraced them as heroes.

She had seen toys of herself and Wang sold on the streets, seen high officials and even the president of China come in person to thank her and tell her that whatever she needed, she only had to ask. She had spent five peaceful days with her family after that, the kind of calm she hadn't known she needed. But when the time came to make her decision… she hadn't hesitated. The others were still inside. Wang was still inside. And now she understood what was at stake.

She had the power to help, and she refused to walk away from that. So she had agreed to return. And now she stood here again, surrounded by her comrades. She was surprised that almost all thirteen who had died had chosen the same path. Seeing them together like this, aware of the responsibility placed on their shoulders, she felt something warm rise in her chest.

"We… we are trying to make a difference, sir," Ishaam suddenly said, maybe for all of them.

"Our friends are still inside, fighting. So… we can't stay back and do nothing. Whichever way we can… we want to fight too." Mei smiled faintly. Well said. They all nodded.

"No wonder you reached so far," Viktor said as he raised his head.

"It's good to have you. And anything you need, just ask. We have developed a technology to allow our minds to process EM waves like you." He offered a faint, almost self-deprecating smile.

"And while I won't dare say our processing power or physical strength is anywhere near yours, we at least have science making conversations between us less painful. So feel free to send me a wave as if you would communicate between yourselves. I am sending you now my frequency." Mei felt the signal clearly—though a bit… stiff. Still, it was convenient. She couldn't help wondering how they managed it without the Pillar. Did they implant devices into their own brains to mimic it?

"I notice your surprise," Viktor said, catching her expression with sharp precision.

"And while our technology has been… some years ahead of the public, thanks to returning Climbers and their evolved brains we have managed to push development several decades forward. I hope that some of you, if you have the time and the interest, will pass by the research department." His gaze lingered on Mei. She nodded. She was curious—deeply so. And she knew someone like her could help them greatly, especially now that she was close to reaching the Third Extreme Pillar State.

"Alright, so," Viktor continued, gesturing forward.

"For the next seventy-one days, you will have full access to the best we can offer: advanced EM chambers, full-immersion VR, strain-reactive arenas with super-AI guidance, tailored training modules designed for your specific mutations, and more. You will not be pushed to your limit," he added, a faint smile tugging at him.

"You will surpass it." Diego chuckled nervously.

"That… sounds painful."

"It may be," Viktor replied with a grin. Then he paused, glancing toward a side entrance.

"Before we proceed, there is someone you should meet." A door slid open with a whisper. Footsteps. And a man walked through—lean, dark-haired, with calm, steady eyes that held deep, mixed emotions. Arjun. Ishaam froze. For a moment, everything else vanished.

"Cap… Captain?" Ishaam's voice cracked. He felt his chest twist, his eyes burning. Arjun smiled gently.

"Don't start with that. You surpassed me already, Ishaam." Ishaam shook his head fiercely.

"No, Arjun. You were—and will always be—my captain." Arjun stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Then let me tell you something as your captain," he said quietly.

"I am really proud of you." Ishaam inhaled sharply, a tremor running through him. He felt his chest tighten. Before more could be said, another chime sounded. A wide platform descended along the opposite side of the hall. On it were people. Hundreds. More than a thousand. Each one wore a military-looking uniform—most marked in red, while a select few at the front wore purple. Their steps were disciplined, synchronised, and precise as they filled the massive chamber with a quiet, controlled energy.

Without a word, every single one of them moved. A single motion. One voice. They bowed.

"Gen-1," they said in unison, the sound rolling through the chamber like thunder.

"Thank you for your service."