Chapter 8

Orion's breath came fast. His muscles burned. His body ached.

Shaw was relentless. Every strike came faster, every movement sharper. Orion had stopped trying to fight normally—he couldn't match the sheer brutality of a man who had spent decades in combat.

So he did what made sense.

He cheated.

Not in the traditional way. He wasn't teleporting or throwing Shaw across the room with telekinesis. He wasn't bending gravity or rewriting physics—at least, not in a way he fully understood yet.

But he was altering outcomes.

Shaw's strikes didn't land when they should have. Orion's steps fell perfectly into place, like he was moving through a script only he could see. Each time Shaw's fist should have connected—Orion wasn't there.

The problem? It still wasn't enough.

Orion dodged a right hook—barely. Shaw pivoted instantly, sweeping Orion's legs out from under him. Orion twisted mid-air, instinctually correcting himself—

And he hit the mat on his feet instead of his back.

Shaw stopped. It was the first time Orion had truly caught him off guard. The expression lasted less than a second. Then Shaw was moving again, faster than before.

Orion tried to shift reality once more—tried to turn Shaw's next attack into nothing.

It didn't work.

The blow caught Orion square in the ribs. He gasped, stumbling, pain lancing through his side. Another hit followed, an open palm to his shoulder that sent him crashing onto the mat.

A sharp crack echoed as his head bounced off the floor.

Black spots danced at the edges of his vision. He groaned, clutching the side of his face. "God—damn it."

Shaw didn't let him up. He loomed over Orion, arms crossed. "You lost focus."

Orion glared. "Yeah, I noticed."

"Your power's impressive," Shaw admitted. "But you rely on it like it's a guarantee. It's not. It has limits."

Orion exhaled sharply. He didn't know its limits. He barely understood what Imperium even was.

Shaw crouched beside him, leveling him with a cold stare. "Right now, you're treating it like a trick. A parlor game. That's why you lost."

Orion swallowed hard. He wanted to argue, to throw some snarky comment back—but Shaw was right.

Shaw rose to his feet. "Again."

Orion groaned. "Seriously? How many times are you gonna—"

"As many as it takes," Shaw said simply. "Until you're worth something in the ring."

Orion clenched his teeth. His body wanted to stay down. His pride wouldn't let him.

He pushed himself up. Stood. Readied himself.

Fine.

Round two.

Aftermath

An hour later, Orion lay sprawled on the locker room bench, arms dangling off the sides, staring at the ceiling.

Everything hurt.

He could still feel the bruises forming, the dull ache in his ribs, the sharp sting in his knuckles. His training shirt was drenched in sweat, sticking to his skin. He had no idea how many times Shaw had knocked him down. A dozen? Twenty?

He lost count after the first five.

Orion exhaled, closing his eyes.

The problem wasn't just the fighting. It was the power.

Imperium had responded to him, but not consistently. Sometimes, it obeyed effortlessly. Other times, it didn't react at all. What was the difference? What was the trigger?

"Thinking too hard about it," Orion muttered to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the metal door.

"Open," Monroe's voice called.

Orion groaned but sat up. "It's unlocked."

The door swung open. Monroe stepped inside, holding a phone. "Your mom."

Orion blinked. "…What?"

Monroe tossed the phone onto his lap. "You should talk to her."

Orion hesitated. He hadn't spoken to his mother since he left for the Pentagon. Hadn't even thought about it. Everything had happened so fast.

He swallowed hard, bringing the phone to his ear. "Mom?"

A sharp exhale. "Orion."

Her voice hit him harder than any of Shaw's punches.

There was a pause—longer than it should have been.

"You didn't call."

Orion ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the bench. "I know."

Another silence. "Are you okay?"

He hesitated.

Physically? No. Mentally? Not even close.

But she didn't need to hear that.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"Don't do that," she said immediately. "Don't bullshit me, Orion."

Orion exhaled slowly. "…I don't know, Mom. I don't know what to say."

Her voice softened, but there was still tension in it. "Are they treating you alright?"

Orion glanced down at his bruised knuckles. "Yeah. Just… a lot."

"Are they forcing you to do anything?"

That caught him off guard.

"No," he said truthfully. "They're training me. Trying to make sure I don't die in my first fight."

His mom inhaled sharply. "This is insane."

"Yeah. No arguments there."

Another silence. Then, "You're coming back, Orion. You hear me?"

He swallowed hard. "I'll try."

"*No.**" Her voice turned sharp. "You're not just trying. You're winning. You're coming back."

Orion closed his eyes. "Okay, Mom."

"Say it."

His throat tightened.

"I'm coming back."

"*Good.**" She exhaled shakily. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She hesitated—like she wanted to say more. Then, "Be careful."

The line went dead.

Orion stared at the phone for a long moment before handing it back to Monroe.

"She's worried about you," Monroe said.

Orion huffed. "Yeah, no shit."

Monroe pocketed the phone. "Good. That means you have something to fight for."

Orion didn't respond.

He just stared at the ceiling, letting the weight of everything settle.

He was in this. Fully. There was no backing out.

And now, he had a promise to keep.

Midnight

Orion sat alone in the barracks, staring at his hand.

The dim light from the overhead lamp cast long shadows, flickering slightly as his fingers flexed. He felt it—the presence of Imperium just beneath his skin, waiting.

What were the limits?

What could he change?

He glanced at the metal spoon on the table. Focused.

Nothing happened.

Orion scowled. Why?

What had been different in the ring? What had allowed him to shift outcomes in the fight?

He thought back. Shaw's punch stopping midair. His body landing on his feet instead of his back.

Those weren't active choices. They were instinct.

It only works when I believe it's already happened.

The realization sent a chill down his spine.

He didn't have to command reality to change. He had to accept that it already had.

Orion exhaled, staring at the spoon.

It was bent.

He hadn't seen it happen. He hadn't even tried.

But in his mind, it was already bent.

A slow grin spread across his face.

"Oh," he murmured.

Now he understood.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow, Shaw was in for a surprise.