Chapter 9

Orion barely slept.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, heart hammering in his chest. Not from exhaustion. Not from pain.

From power.

For the first time, he truly felt it—Imperium wasn't just an ability. It wasn't a trick or a gimmick. It was dominance.

The rules of the world were no longer absolute.

Gravity? A suggestion.

Momentum? A formality.

Probability? His to decide.

He flexed his fingers in the dim light. He could feel the weight of reality bending under his will, a subtle but undeniable hum beneath his skin. He wasn't just existing in the world anymore. He was dictating it.

A slow grin crept onto his face.

Tomorrow, Shaw was in for a surprise.

Late Night – Group Chat

Orion sat up, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. His fingers hovered over the screen.

He hadn't checked in with his friends since… well, since everything.

The chat was still active.

Caleb: Yo. Anyone else still up?

Ava: Why are you like this

Jace: I literally haven't slept since the Voice thing. I'm in a constant state of existential crisis.

Caleb: Damn bro, just log out

Ava: So we just ignoring the fact that Orion ghosted us?

Jace: He's obviously a government experiment now. RIP, our boy.

Caleb: Press F

Orion: I hate all of you.

A full two seconds passed.

Then—

Ava: OH MY GOD HE LIVES

Caleb: Yo what the hell happened to you

Jace: Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in Area 51

Orion exhaled through his nose, smirking. He hesitated before typing.

Orion: Can't say much. But yeah, I'm alive.

Caleb: Bro that is not comforting

Ava: Are they making you fight aliens

Jace: ARE YOU FIGHTING ALIENS

Orion: Not yet.

A pause.

Caleb: …you're joking. Right?

Orion let them sit with that for a while before responding.

Orion: Gotta go. Training starts early.

He expected them to be annoyed. But instead—

Ava: We're here, okay? No matter what this is.

Caleb: Yeah, dude. Whatever's happening, we got you.

Jace: Just don't die. If you do, I'm stealing your PS5.

Ava: Jace wtf

Jace: What? It's a valid concern.

Orion's throat tightened. He hadn't realized how much he needed this.

Orion: Thanks, guys.

He closed the chat, exhaling.

The grin faded. The power in his veins pulsed.

Tomorrow, everything changed.

Again.

Fort Eisenhower - Training Grounds

The morning air was sharp, crisp. The field outside the underground facility stretched wide, ringed by dense trees, the grass cut short, the ground packed firm beneath Orion's boots.

The moment he stepped onto the training field, all eyes were on him.

Soldiers. Scientists. Observers with tablets, murmuring notes into earpieces.

Shaw stood in the center of the clearing, arms crossed. Same stance as before. Same sharp, assessing gaze.

But something was different.

Orion knew it. Shaw did too.

The commander exhaled. "Alright, kid. Show me."

Orion cracked his knuckles.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

He didn't need to force Imperium. He didn't need to summon it. It was already his.

The world responded before he even gave a command.

The air hummed. The dirt beneath his feet vibrated. The atmosphere thickened, like everything around him was aware—like reality itself was waiting for him to decide what happened next.

Shaw lunged.

Orion moved.

Faster than before. Smoother. No wasted motion.

Shaw's fist shot forward.

It stopped an inch from Orion's face.

Not because Orion dodged. Not because Shaw held back.

Because the hit never existed in the first place.

Orion exhaled. He watched Shaw's expression—watched as a flicker of realization crossed the commander's face.

Orion hadn't blocked. He hadn't countered. He hadn't even dodged.

The strike was just gone.

Erased.

Never part of reality to begin with.

Shaw's other fist shot toward Orion's ribs. This time, Orion didn't erase it—he redirected it.

Shaw's arm twisted mid-air, like he had meant to strike somewhere else. His own force worked against him, his footing faltering as he stumbled forward.

Orion didn't even touch him.

He stepped back, smirking.

Shaw caught himself, spinning to face him. A slow exhale. A nod.

"Better," he admitted.

Orion tilted his head. "That's it? No yelling? No telling me how I still suck?"

Shaw's lips curled slightly. Not quite a smile. "You still suck."

Orion snorted. "Thought so."

Shaw straightened, rolling his shoulders. "But you're learning. Now let's see if you can apply it."

Orion frowned. "What do you—"

He felt the shift before he saw it.

More people stepping onto the field. Soldiers. Trainers. Sparring gear.

Oh.

Oh, hell no.

"Wait," Orion said, holding up a hand. "You're not—"

"One-on-one doesn't teach you everything," Shaw said simply. "You're fighting a tournament, kid. You think it's gonna be fair?"

Orion groaned, rubbing his face. "Jesus Christ, can I get a break?"

Shaw gestured. Three men stepped forward.

Orion's stomach dropped.

Not just soldiers. Elite operatives. Special forces. All of them bigger, stronger, faster.

He swallowed hard. "Oh. So you're actually trying to kill me."

Shaw shrugged. "Figure it out."

Orion dragged a hand down his face. "I hate you."

Shaw's smirk was almost amused. "You're supposed to."

Orion exhaled sharply.

Fine.

He could do this.

He wasn't fighting them. Not really.

He was fighting reality.

And that?

That was a fight he could win.

He clenched his fists. The world shivered.

"Let's go," he muttered.

The three men charged.

And this time—

Orion was ready.