Eliot sat on the dusty concrete floor. The only sounds in the warehouse were the distant hum of cars and the occasional skittering of something unseen. The information from the System – Hunter-Alpha, Protocol X, Unregistered Host Dissonance – swirled in his mind, a scary new language for a scary new reality. He was a mistake, a cause of "System Instability," and a very skilled, invisible hunter had been sent to "neutralize" him.
Fear, cold and sharp, still pricked at him, but now it was mixed with a growing resolve. He wouldn't be neutralized. He couldn't go back to being the ghost he was. This System, whatever it truly was, had given him a new battle, a new reason to live beyond the broken pieces of his old life.
His energy levels were slowly rising, but it was a painfully slow pace for someone who needed to learn to fight for survival. He needed to "develop ways to fight back" and "focus on escaping and getting information," as the System suggested.
Information. That was key. He focused on the System's screen, willing it to show him more about "Protocol X," about other hosts, about anything that could give him an advantage. But the familiar warning flashed: (MORE DATA BLOCKED. HOST CONNECTION TOO LOW.)
He sighed in frustration. He was too weak, too new to this. He needed to connect more, to become more integrated with the System. How? The guide didn't say. But he remembered the thrill of moving the twig, the desperate swing of the branch. Using his abilities, even in small ways, seemed to be the path.
He looked around the abandoned warehouse. It was a perfect training area. Isolated, full of discarded objects. He needed to practice. He needed to push his Basic Telekinesis.
He saw a broken brick, rough and heavy. He focused, extending his hand, trying to make that faint blue glow appear again. It showed up, weak at first, then became steady. "Lift," he commanded, his voice a low whisper.
The brick trembled, then rose an inch, two inches. It was heavier than the twig, a bigger effort. He held it there, concentrating, feeling his precious energy drain away. After a few seconds, he let it drop with a dull thud.
(ABILITY USED. HOST ENERGY: 23%.)
He frowned. Only two percent drained for that small effort. It was going to take a long time. He picked up the brick again, willing it to lift. He repeated the action, again and again, feeling the burn in his muscles, the subtle drain in his core. He tried to move it to the left, then the right, pushing his control.
Hours passed in this focused, silent practice. He moved bricks, then rusty metal scraps, then tried to move the loose gravel on the floor. He wasn't making huge progress, but he was learning control, understanding how his thoughts turned into action. The blue glow became a little more constant.
He also started thinking about how to escape. How could he hide from an invisible hunter? The System's mention of "Stealth (Limited Invisibility/Blur)" stuck in his mind. If his enemy could make things hard to see, maybe he could learn to do something similar? It was a wild idea, a far-off goal, but it was a goal nonetheless.
As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the high windows, Eliot felt a new kind of tiredness setting in – mental exhaustion from the intense focus. He also realized he needed more food. And he couldn't rely on the "impossible exchange" every time; he was too weak for anything flashy, and the clerk wouldn't be fooled twice.
He looked down at his backpack. He had almost nothing. He needed resources. Real, physical resources. And he needed to be quiet about it.
A new thought, dangerous and bold, began to form in his mind. If he was an "unregistered host" being hunted, then maybe there were others like him. Or maybe, there were ways to learn more, to connect faster with the System, that didn't just involve lifting bricks. The thought was a risk, but staying in the dark meant certain failure.