The roar of the crowd crashed back into full force the moment my focus broke, the layered noise of shouting, metal creaking, and coin exchanges flooding my senses as if something had been holding it back until now, and for a brief moment I remained still, trying to reconcile what I had just experienced with the reality around me.
Angel's voice followed almost immediately, calm and precise, cutting cleanly through the noise in a way nothing else could.
"Nanite generation unavailable. Ambient energy insufficient for extraction."
I frowned slightly, my attention shifting inward again as I processed the statement, the unfamiliar term settling in my thoughts with more weight than I expected.
"Nanites?" I asked.
"Autonomous micro-systems," Angel replied. "Primary function: enhancement, repair, adaptation. Core requirement: energy."
The explanation was brief, but it was enough to trigger something deeper, something I had heard before, long ago, in fragments and stories that no one on Skorrag ever truly believed.
Humans who could do more.
Move faster.
Hit harder.
Survive things that should have killed them.
Stories of people far from here, closer to the core systems, where power was not just measured in coins, but in capability.
I had always thought those stories were exaggerated.
Now I wasn't so sure.
"No wonder you keep saying I should leave," I muttered under my breath, my gaze drifting back toward the arena as the Silver Prince stepped away from the center, the crowd roaring in approval as he exited the fighting ground with the same composed efficiency he had shown during the match.
From this angle, I noticed something I had missed before.
He was not alone.
Scattered across some of the higher tiers, positioned among the sections reserved for those with influence, were others dressed in similar fashion, their presence subtle but unmistakable. Their posture was relaxed, almost disinterested, as if what had just happened in the arena did not meet whatever standard they were used to.
Otherworlders.
More than one.
And they looked bored.
Another announcement echoed through the pit, signaling the next match, this one between two local scrappers whose names barely registered beyond the betting boards, and while the crowd responded with the same enthusiasm, I found my interest fading quickly.
I had already seen what mattered.
The rest felt smaller by comparison.
I stood, stepping away from my place in the tier and moving back toward the exit, the crowd parting just enough to allow movement as people shifted their attention to the next fight.
Half the day was gone.
And I had nothing to show for it.
At least, that was what it looked like on the surface.
"Explain nanites," I said as I moved through the exit corridor.
"Nanites utilize ambient energy for activation and sustained operation," Angel replied. "Energy density determines efficiency and output."
"And here?" I asked.
"Energy density insufficient," she said. "Process latency increased. Development speed significantly reduced."
I stepped out into the open air, the noise of the pit fading behind me as the wind returned, carrying dust and the familiar dryness of Skorrag across my skin.
"So I'm stuck," I said.
"Incorrect," Angel replied. "Progress possible. Efficiency reduced."
I exhaled slowly, adjusting my direction without thinking as my feet carried me away from the central settlement, toward the outskirts where activity thinned and structures became less stable, less maintained, and eventually gave way to abandoned zones that no longer served any immediate purpose.
"Then what do I do?" I asked.
"Training recommended," Angel said. "Isolated environment preferred. Reduced interference. Increased focus."
I nodded slightly, more to myself than to her, as the path ahead became clearer in a way that did not require further explanation.
If I could not leave yet—
Then I needed to get stronger here.
The outskirts of the settlement were quieter, the structures more spaced out, and the signs of abandonment more obvious as I moved deeper into areas that had once been active mining zones before resources dried up or conditions became too unstable to maintain operations.
I stopped in front of one such entrance, an old mine shaft partially reinforced with aging metal supports that had long since lost their original integrity, the opening dark and still, carrying a faint chill that contrasted with the dry air outside.
It would do.
I stepped inside.
The light from the outside faded quickly, replaced by dim shadows and the faint echo of my own movement as I walked further in, the ground uneven beneath my feet but stable enough to hold.
The silence here was different.
Heavier.
More contained.
And for the first time since leaving the pit, there were no distractions.
Just space.
And time.
I stopped a few meters in, letting my eyes adjust, my breathing steadying as I prepared to do something I had never done before.
Train.
"Angel," I said.
There was no delay.
"Training sequence initiated," she replied. "Muscle pattern integration in progress. Synchronizing learned combat data with motor functions."
I felt it immediately.
Not pain.
Not exactly.
But something else.
A shift.
As if my body was being introduced to movements it had never performed, patterns forming beneath conscious thought, waiting to be accessed.
And in that moment—
For the first time since everything began—
I understood.
This was where it started.