Chapter 7

Military Base – Washington D.C.

The convoy moved fast. Too fast.

Orion sat in the back of an armored vehicle, the kind built for warzones, not highways. The inside smelled of leather and gun oil, the hum of the engine deep and steady beneath his feet. He stared at his reflection in the tinted window—same face, same tired eyes—but everything was different now.

Carter sat in the front seat, talking in a low voice to the driver. Monroe sat beside Orion, arms crossed, gaze locked forward like she was seeing something no one else could.

The silence stretched. Too many thoughts rattled in Orion's head.

Imperium.

He had said it out loud. Given it a name. And now it was real.

He exhaled, resting his elbow on the door. "So," he muttered, breaking the quiet. "What's the plan? You guys gonna run some tests on me? Strap me to a machine? See if I explode?"

Monroe's mouth twitched, almost like she wanted to smirk. She didn't.

Carter didn't look back. "We're taking you to Fort Eisenhower. Classified training facility outside the city. Only a handful of people even know it exists."

"Sounds cozy," Orion said dryly.

"It's where we put assets that can't be anywhere else," Carter continued. "Foreign defectors, experimental tech, things we don't want leaking."

Orion frowned. "Assets?"

Carter glanced at him in the mirror. "Right now? That's what you are."

Orion's fingers curled into a fist on his lap. Not a person. Not a fighter. Just an asset.

He forced himself to unclench. "And what exactly am I supposed to do at this place?"

Monroe finally spoke. "Learn how not to die."

The words were blunt, flat. But true.

Orion sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Yeah, okay. Fair."

The vehicle swerved, taking an exit onto a deserted stretch of road. No streetlights. No traffic. Just trees and asphalt stretching into nothing.

"You'll have a team," Carter continued. "Trainers, strategists, weapons specialists. We don't know what kind of fights you'll be facing, so we cover everything."

Orion frowned. "Weapons specialists? Pretty sure I don't need guns if I can bend reality."

Carter gave him a look. "Power or not, you don't step into a battlefield without knowing how to fight. Some champions are trained soldiers, Orion. You're not."

The words stung, even though they were true.

"So what, you're gonna put me in a ring and let some drill sergeant kick my ass until I learn how to throw a punch?"

Monroe turned to him. "Pretty much."

Orion groaned, rubbing his temples. "This is gonna suck, isn't it?"

Monroe shrugged. "Pain is a good teacher."

"Yeah? Guessing you've had a lot of lessons, then."

Something flickered in her expression. It was gone before Orion could read it.

"Enough," she said simply.

The SUV slowed. Ahead, a gate loomed from the darkness, metal barriers and guard towers wrapped in razor wire. A red light scanned over the windshield. A second later, the gate hissed open.

"Welcome to Fort Eisenhower," Carter said.

The base swallowed them whole.

Fort Eisenhower - Underground Facility

The air was colder down here. Orion walked through a narrow corridor, his footsteps muffled by the sterile white tiles. He felt like he was in a hospital, except hospitals didn't have guards posted at every door.

Carter led the way. Monroe walked beside Orion, silent as ever.

They reached a steel door. No handle, just a scanner. Carter placed his palm against the panel. A quiet beep, then a mechanical hiss as the door slid open.

The room beyond was massive. Walls lined with monitors. A raised observation deck. Scientists and military personnel stood in clusters, talking in low voices. At the center of the room—a ring. A training mat surrounded by reinforced glass.

Orion exhaled. "Let me guess. That's for me."

Carter nodded. "You're going to be evaluated. We need to see what you're capable of."

Orion glanced around. "And by 'evaluated' you mean…?"

A voice cut through the room. "It means you're gonna fight."

Orion turned.

A man stood near the ring, arms crossed. Mid-forties, built like a tank, scarred knuckles and a nose that had been broken more than once. He wore a tight black shirt, military fatigues, and a gaze that made Orion feel like a particularly unimpressive specimen.

"This is Commander Isaac Shaw," Carter said. "Head of advanced combat training."

Shaw gave Orion a slow, assessing look. "You don't look like much, kid."

Orion smirked. "You don't look like you smile much."

A few people in the room shifted, like they expected Shaw to snap. He didn't. His lips curled slightly.

"Get in the ring."

Orion hesitated. "Wait, right now?"

"You waiting for an invitation?"

Orion exhaled. "Fine. But if I break something, not my fault."

He pulled off his jacket, tossing it to the side. Monroe leaned against the wall, arms still crossed. Watching. Always watching.

Orion stepped into the ring. The mat was firm under his feet, slightly padded but solid enough that hitting the ground would hurt.

Shaw climbed in after him. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck.

"Here's how this works," he said. "You try to hit me. I try to stop you. You do something impressive, we learn something. You get knocked on your ass, you learn something."

Orion flexed his fingers. "And what if I win?"

Shaw grinned. "That's the first joke you've told that I actually liked."

Orion rolled his eyes. "Alright. Let's do this."

He took a breath. Focused.

Imperium.

The air shifted.

Shaw's stance barely changed, but Orion saw it—the way his weight adjusted, the way his muscles tensed. He was reading Orion, waiting for him to move first.

Fine.

Orion lashed out—fast, a straight punch aimed at Shaw's gut.

He never even saw Shaw move.

Pain exploded in Orion's ribs.

One second he was standing. The next, he was flat on his back, the ceiling spinning above him.

Shaw stood over him, arms crossed. "Slow."

Orion groaned. "Ow."

Shaw reached down, grabbed Orion's arm, and yanked him to his feet like he weighed nothing.

"Again," Shaw said.

Orion winced, rubbing his side. "Okay, so you're strong. That's cute."

Shaw didn't react. "You think your power makes you invincible. It doesn't. You rely on it, you'll die."

Orion scowled. "Yeah, well, let's see what happens when I actually use it."

He breathed in. Felt it.

The air warped.

Shaw lunged.

Orion moved.

Faster this time. More instinct than thought.

The second Shaw swung, Orion reached out—not with his hands, but with his mind.

The world obeyed.

Shaw's punch stopped.

Orion didn't block it. Didn't dodge. Reality just… shifted. Like the attack never fully existed.

For the first time, Shaw hesitated.

And Orion grinned.

"Oh," he said, cracking his knuckles. "I think I get it now."

Shaw's eyes darkened.

"Good," he said.

"Now keep up."

And the fight truly began.