Revamp (V)
The operator was one thing, but surely something as mundane as skills could be easily overlooked, especially since his assigned class could awaken or obtain them under the right conditions.
Ah, Aria… was it a mistake to tell them about my unique skill? he asked inwardly, reaching for the sentient voice of reason that resided within him.
[Answer: It is not an issue. At present, your unique skill is still underdeveloped and should not raise suspicion unless used carelessly. This applies to your other skills as well—the skills themselves are not the problem. A suitable rationale can always be inferred later. Even if that is not possible, you would simply be classified as an anomaly at worst. You may discuss your skills in detail, provided you omit any reference to me, the operator, or your recalibration.]
Aria’s voice was still robotic and unfeeling, but under current circumstances her words of wisdom sounded almost angelic to him. He even considered giving a mental applause to his assistant after all she’d done today, but decided against it at the last microsecond.
"Got it," he nodded mentally. "I guess that should work. I’ll avoid the stuff you mentioned, so don’t stop my heart, alright?"
[Acknowledged. I will refrain from initiating such drastic measures as long as you comply with my directives, Cyril.]
He had meant it as a joke.
W-wait you can actually do that?
His internal inquiry elicited no response because the connection between them had been cut, and this time it was Aria’s doing. Once again, he found himself staring down his superhuman principal. A few seconds had passed in the real world but something about that last interaction had thrown both his perception and concentration off.
“This is finally starting to make some sense.” Olivia commented, her voice dispelling his stupor. “I’ve lost count of how many times I rewatched your battle against the infernal and still couldn't figure out how you managed to shrug off a blast that left a crater in the ground. So that’s how you did it—dispersing the force with air pressure huh? What a clever idea.”
“It's really nothing much, I’m just making use of everything at my disposal.” Cyril said simply.
His opponent extended her arms and shifted her stance preemptively, and that was all it took for another curtain of electricity to start coiling around her body. Amidst the newfound surge of raging lightning, Olivia spoke again, but this time her tone was far more intimidating.
“I think it's about time we wrap this up Cyril. I’ll be taking this up a notch, so I suggest you do the same.”
He didn’t have any time to think of a reply, as soon as his eyes adjusted to the sudden increase in brightness, the only thing he could register was the abrupt warning echoing in his mind and the blue streak of light flashing towards him.
[Alert. Incoming lightning bolt, immediate defensive action required.]
Cyril's instincts took over, triggering his body’s defenses and evoking a counter.
His arm sprang up in an extended position, welcoming the bolt of electricity with an open palm. A crackle split the air as soon as the charged attack collided with his hand—or rather, collided with the space in front of his hand. No actual contact had been made between him and the electrical tendril because it slammed into something else before it could reach him. An invisible wall formed around his arm seconds before Olivia’s attack landed, one that was made by augmenting the atmosphere itself— a ‘wall’ of dense, pressurized air.
It was a few inches thick and could only ward off such a powerful blow once, but that was all he needed. However, his opponent wasn’t done yet.
Several orbs of condensed electricity had already formed and were lazily swiveling in the space around Olivia as if they were awaiting instructions. Once he heard the static znnn sound indicating an electrical discharge, Cyril rolled forward and blasted off with a burst of inhuman speed.
He didn’t head straight for his target, instead he moved along an arc and gradually built-up speed hoping to close in on her blind spot. Bright blue trails of lightning followed behind him, ruthlessly smashing into the polymeric walls one after the other, each blast barely missing its target by a hairs breadth.
They didn’t miss because he was too fast to hit—on the contrary, he couldn’t even dream about doing something as absurd as outrunning actual lightning. It was simply a combination of anticipation and reflex actions. Lightning was fairly unpredictable as a force of nature, but as long as it was being directed by conscious will and thought then even raw electricity wouldn’t be exempt from certain predispositions.
The tendrils lashing out around Olivia appeared to be moving haphazardly at a glance, but Cyril knew that wasn’t the case. As an S-rank she couldn’t afford to throw her power around carelessly like that, lest the entire structure would come tumbling down on them. Since that wasn’t the case there was only one other explanation—every bolt, flash and strike being sent after him was in some way being influenced by Olivia herself, whether it was a perfectly calculated move or not, her attacks would be prone to a certain ‘pattern’.
If that was the case then all he had to do was predict said ‘pattern’ beforehand. Cyril’s kinetic vision was fundamentally freakish—hence his absurd reaction times— and in combination with his conditioned reflexes, it practically crafted a mold for him to be particularly evasive. Now that he had the power of augmentation at his disposal, he could take that anomaly a step further by combining it with [Mobius] the saint exclusive skill that enhanced perception.
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Augmenting his velocity would give him just the right amount of speed to avoid getting hit, and simultaneously harnessing the power of Mobius in addition to that allowed him to process information in a fraction of the time.
His mind, faster and sharper under the effects of the Mobius skill, began calculating the next strike before it happened. He didn’t need to outrun lightning—he just needed to be where it wasn’t. If he could anticipate where her attacks would land, he could evade them—if only just barely.
Bang after bang, Cyril leapt, rolled and dashed away from the rain of blue strikes coming at him from all directions. Olivia hadn’t moved from her position at all and instead merely followed the boy’s trajectory by sensing his presence like a radar. Even with her back turned, at most it took a second for her to triangulate his position and send balls of lightning flying towards him.
The space lit up again from an eruption of blue light colliding with a spot less than a meter away from Cyril. The blast sent him tumbling backwards before he transitioned the impact into a roll— his chest heaving irregularly from the involuntary muscle spasms. He’d gotten close enough to charge in for a strike, but his racing mind made a keen assessment of his position in mere seconds.
Still kneeling on the floor, Cyril carefully glanced around the room then shook his head slowly, forcing out a small chuckle. That response stemmed mainly from astonishment rather than amusement, because currently, his situation wasn’t funny at all.
In a word, he was trapped. One good look around was really all it took to deduce that.
Floating about Cyril’s position from every angle and orientation were a collection of zapping orbs shivering in midair, each one jolting with power upwards of a hundred thousand volts. It was like being trapped in a three-dimensional minefield—no escape, no matter which way you turned: up, down, or anywhere in between.
“Do you yield?” Olivia asked, slowly turning towards him.
“Not after coming this far.”
She expected that response, and as soon as it was given another surge of electricity had already begun coating her index finger.
[Alert. This next attack is likely to be several times stronger than her previous invocations. Surrender is the optimum choice here.]
Finally back are we? Sorry Aria but a long time ago a certain someone drilled a strong opposition to the words ‘giving up’ in my mind. I know this is a stupid idea, but I’ve already come this far, there's no way I'm going to back down now.
[Error. Your line of reasoning is illogical. There is no foreseeable benefit in continuing this battle. Course adjustment recommended.]
The assistant’s voice contained a hint of displeasure for the very first time. He wasn’t sure as to why that was but the unexpected break in Aria’s calculated responses left him wanting to commit to the idea more. Since there was no risk of death here, he was simply curious about something:
How would the voice react if I took this even further?
No foreseeable benefit? Sure there is. I get the experience—and better yet, I can say I lost to an S-rank. Most people yearn for this kind of thing you know.
[Error. Illogical conclusion. Pursuing this directive is not advised.]
Too late for that my friend, she’s coming.
A dull pop reverberated through the air, and in an instant, the zapping orbs of energy converged on Cyril’s position from all directions, relentless in their pursuit. A single hit was all it would take to temporarily send his entire body into a fit of spasms and conclusively signal the end of this ‘fight’.
His mind—having been accelerated under the effect of Mobius, was fervently fishing for solutions. Keeping track of all the potential hazards with his eyes alone was virtually impossible, but he didn’t need to, not when there was another method at his disposal.
With little more than a thought, Cyril set his entire body ablaze with a mantle of white, radiant flames that danced across his skin without consuming it. He brought both arms up in a cross shape, then flashed them along an arc that immediately erupted into a pyre of white flames. The zapping orbs were consumed by the radiant blaze and ultimately lost track of their target who had bolted off like a rocket, heading straight for the stately magician with a freshly wound right hook.
The trainee let out a roar, pushing his body to its limit as he channeled every ounce of latent strength he could muster.
Boom
Another rattling impact came—a sound that was fair too loud to accompany the sensation of a simple fist finding purchase. His attack —already boosted and augmented—was stopped short by a transparent barrier only ten centimeters away from his target. Cyril’s fist trembled weakly in the air, frozen in place as if its owner had struck bedrock.
Olivia looked up at him and smiled. She pointed her charged fingertip at something over to the side. A small bolt of electricity escaped from her hand, racing across the room and slamming into an electrified orb the size of a soccer ball.
Cyril leapt back instinctively, unsure of how to process what his eyes were seeing.
“What will you do now?” Asked the magician, smiling from beyond her transparent wall.
The bolt of thunder she’d unleashed didn’t stop after merging with just one lightning orb; it continued on a chaotic path, flashing across the room and jumping from orb to orb. With each leap, it grew slightly larger, its electric whoosh growing louder and more menacing.
By now, both Cyril’s head and mind were spinning from the bizarre situation. He knew his demise was imminent, brought about by a small bolt of lightning—but there was nothing he could do and nowhere to run. Its trajectory had traced literal flight paths between the orbs, leaving the room resembling a three-dimensional cube stitched together by electrified bolts and floating orbs.
It was all too fast, not even ten seconds had passed since she unleashed the first bolt and now, he was already trapped.
“I’m not done yet!” Cyril shouted, readying himself to engage his target once more. Since evasion was virtually impossible, he decided to opt for the next best thing: a head-on confrontation.
He readied his fist once more, preparing to lunge himself at the peculiar magician. But by the time his feet left the floor, he saw her lips form a single invocation: ‘Chain lightning.’ The next thing he knew, a surge of electricity hurled his body across the room, sending him crashing several dozen feet away. His body convulsed from the electrified blow, muscles seizing as hundreds of thousands of volts surged through his veins.
“Ggah!!!”
His body groaned about on the floor, struggling to resist the pain and obey his will at the same time. Even with an augmented body, a direct hit from that much electricity wouldn’t fare well with anyone, especially when it came to the muscular contractions it was bound to bring. What Cyril was experiencing now was the equivalent of a power surge. Amidst fighting off his agony, the increasing muscle spasms, and the growing difficulty to breathe, the phrase he heard over the room’s intercom gave him a brief, albeit temporary, sense of relief.
Verbatim, Wilhelm’s amplified voice said: “That’s a wrap.”