The room was quiet—too quiet.
Echo Division's debrief chamber was a narrow, windowless box with a single table, one chair on each side, and four red-lit cameras watching from above. The tension in the air was heavier than any gamma fallout.
You sat in one chair, blood still dried on your knuckles. Across from you sat Commander Voss.
She was expressionless. Again.
"You disobeyed a direct command."
Your body ached. Ribs bruised. Muscles overclocked. But none of that hurt like the weight behind her words.
"I made a call," you said, meeting her eyes. "And I saved him."
"Samson Creed was a threat. You were told to stand down and wait for containment."
"If I had, we'd be picking up body parts."
A long pause.
Then she slid a tablet across the table. On the screen were still images from the mission: melted beams, collapsed concrete, Pulse shielding civilians after the site went nuclear, your body glowing with unstable electricity mid-combat.
"You exposed your powers. Too much," she said. "You displayed something... unrecorded."
You nodded. "Adapted Form."
"And you think you understand what that means?"
You leaned back, biting down your temper. "It means I'm not just a mimic. I evolve."
Voss tapped the screen again. "Or it means your control is slipping."
The door hissed open behind you. Agent Hartman stepped in, arms crossed. Pulse followed a second later, bruised but upright.
"Permission to speak freely?" Pulse asked.
"No," Voss said.
Pulse spoke anyway. "He stopped Creed. Hell, he stabilized him. I've seen powers run wild—this wasn't that. He channeled it. Controlled it."
"Exactly," Hartman added. "You don't put a ceiling on someone when they're breaking barriers we haven't even mapped yet."
Voss remained stone-faced. "Then let's see how high he can climb without crashing."
She stood.
"Room C7. Sealed training module. You're going in for 48 hours. Alone. No aids. No tech. No Pulse."
You frowned. "You're isolating me?"
"I'm testing you. If your abilities are as evolutionary as you claim, then let's see what you adapt to... when there's nothing left but pressure."
⸻
Room C7 was silence made solid.
The chamber was deep underground, the walls sealed in vibranium mesh, designed to cancel echoes, scatter waves, and scramble kinetic feedback. A room designed for containment... or punishment.
No light except for a dim ceiling glow. No food. Just hydration lines in the wall and a bio-monitor implant ticking in your neck.
For the first hour, you paced.
By the second hour, you felt it: the walls weren't just absorbing sound—they were nullifying energy. Your body felt sluggish, like the static inside you couldn't find footing.
You tried sparking electricity. Nothing.
You tried recalling Pulse's kinetic flow. Still nothing.
By hour six, you started shaking.
[ENERGY SOURCE: INERT]
[FORM STATUS: NULL]
They'd done something to the room. Dampening fields? Quantum inversion?
You slammed your fist against the wall—and it barely made a sound.
Not even your rage could echo here.
⸻
By hour sixteen, you weren't alone anymore.
Something changed.
The walls didn't move, but the air did. Heavier. Like something else was breathing in the chamber with you.
You spun—but saw nothing.
Then the temperature dropped.
Frost crept across the ceiling, and a voice—calm, cold, precise—whispered into your mind.
"Heard you're the new trick dog. Let's see how many barks you've got left."
You froze. "Who said that?"
No answer.
A shadow formed in front of you—not a man, not a machine. Just darkness. Shifting. Solid but untraceable.
Then it stepped forward.
It wore Echo Division armor—but darker, modified. The helmet had no visor. Its face was a matte black shell. And when it moved, it made no sound.
Your copy ability didn't react. Nothing pinged. No powers, no rhythms, no patterns.
"Who are you?" you asked, stepping back.
It didn't speak.
It moved—and in an instant, you were on the ground, breath gone, chest burning. You hadn't even seen the strike.
You tried copying its movement. Nothing.
You tried adapting to its timing. Still nothing.
You couldn't read him.
And for the first time since your powers awakened—you felt helpless.
He leaned close.
"Copy all you want," the figure hissed. "You can't adapt to what you can't perceive."
Then he was gone.
Just like that.
The door behind you hissed open. Voss stood there, staring.
Your legs shook.
"What the hell was that?" you asked.
"Your next lesson," she said. "You want to evolve? Find a way to copy the unreadable."