One step back (2)

My parents weren't even looking at me... Obviously, Z was the center of attention.

— So, how did you two meet?— my mom asked, blowing on her tea before taking a small sip. The smell made my nose itch a little. Or maybe it was just my nerves.

— She's a friend of my friends. Offered to come with me. So, don't jump to conclusions.

My parents exchanged one of those ironic glances, clearly saying "sure" without needing to speak.

Meanwhile, Z looked bored. She stood up and started wandering around the kitchen, touching everything with the curiosity of someone who'd never been in that kind of place before.

— She's kind of hyper.— my dad commented, rotating his neck slightly.

— Just like you, honey.— my mom replied with a playful smile.

I sighed and tried to stay focused.

— I'm just grabbing a few things and heading back to Salinas. Got a lot of studying to do.

It was a lousy excuse, and I knew it. I hated lying to my parents, especially about something this serious. I was risking my life, but at least they were kept far from the mess.

My hand trembled a bit as I lifted the coffee mug. That's when Z turned back around and walked toward me.

— Are you okay? Your heart rate is elevated. We should run a scan when we return.

Without waiting for a response, she placed her hands on my shoulders and slid them up to my trapezius, pressing gently like she was checking for something.

Shit. This wasn't the time or place.

My pupils dilated in panic as my parents exchanged a knowing look and gave a thumbs-up.

Awkward, to say the least.

And to make things worse, I felt my face heat up like I was standing under the noon sun.

— It's getting late. I wish I could stay longer, but I need to pack.

I said it while finishing the coffee.

— When we get back home, I'll teach you a few more things.

Z added casually, still massaging me, completely unaware of the situation.

— You two really don't have anything going on?

My dad asked, trying not to laugh.

— It's complicated...

I stood up quickly and pulled Z along with me. Better to leave before the conversation went somewhere worse.

In my room, I rummaged under the bed until I found an old but reliable suitcase. I threw in some clothes, my laptop, a few books, and random junk—at least what was left after Z had already taken half without asking.

After organizing everything, I returned to the living room to say goodbye. I gave my parents a tight hug before Z went ahead to confirm the teleport coordinates. My mom wished me a safe trip and went to bed.

As I was getting ready to leave, a chill ran down my spine when I heard my dad's calm voice behind me.

— Son, stay away from Mortuus.

My body froze. My dad never spoke like that.

I turned to face him, confused and shaken.

— What?

Before I could ask anything else, the light of the teleportation wrapped around me, and in a blink, I was back at the base.

I ignored the pain and nausea and immediately tried to call my dad.

It was instant.

As the call rang, I felt my heart pounding like it wanted to break through my chest. Time slowed, cold sweat hit, and my breath got heavy.

What the hell did that mean?

My head was spinning, full of unanswered questions.

— Hey...

My legs started pacing on their own, restless. My head throbbed, and the coffee in my stomach threatened to come back up.

— Hey...

My chest tightened. My vision blurred.

— HEY!

Everything shattered with Z's voice. She was shaking me hard, her metal hands gripping my shoulders, yanking me back and forth.

I looked at my phone.

The call hadn't gone through.

I collapsed to the floor, trying to catch my breath.

— What happened??? I'm pretty sure the teleport wasn't that bad.

I looked at Z, already back in her usual form and attitude — arms crossed, one brow raised.

— Nothing... I'm just not feeling great.

And there it was… another pathetic lie.

I got up with effort and went straight to my bed. Sleep? Of course not.

I spent a few hours studying and reviewing old material, but it didn't do the trick. My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to shut down.

Looking for any kind of distraction, I crept down the corridors to the main hall. There, I noticed Z's UFO was "charging" — or something like that. The ship pulsed with a soft blue glow as it hovered over a platform near the garage, like it was absorbing energy from the room itself.

I activated the central computer and started digging through Ranger reports and footage. Took notes, made connections… Still not enough. I wanted to sleep. I needed sleep. But my brain wouldn't stop, constantly demanding answers or at least something useful.

And then, without realizing, my feet brought me to the one place I'd been avoiding.

The training room.

It felt like my body was being pulled there. Like something was calling me.

As I entered, a holographic panel projected in front of me, alien characters slowly morphing until they were readable.

[SCANNING FINGERPRINT REQUIRED]

I sighed and placed my hand on the panel.

[SEARCHING… SEARCHING… SEARCHING…]

This was taking longer than I expected.

[NEW USER DETECTED. REGISTER NOW?]

   [YES]  [NO, TRY AGAIN]

I hesitated. Why did this feel like signing up for a sketchy website? I shook my head and hit "YES."

[OKAY! PLACE YOUR FINGER ON THE PANEL.]

I followed the prompts. Then came the big one.

[USERNAME: ___________]

I paused.

Use my real name? Someone else's? No… that would just raise more questions.

I needed something quiet. Something that wouldn't stand out.

An idea hit me. Kinda edgy? Maybe. But it would do for now.

["???" IS YOUR USERNAME. ARE YOU SURE?]

   [YES]  [NO, REDO]

My mind kept questioning. But damn it, could it just shut up for one second? I just wanted to move on.

I slammed "YES."

[THANK YOU, NEW USER! WELCOME TO THE RANGER TRAINING ROOM. TRYING TO KILL YOU WILL BE OUR PLEASURE!]

I stood still for a moment.

That was… ominous.

Clearly something Z had programmed.

I loaded in a few of the "filler" aliens — the kind that go down in one hit, you know?

The room around me changed instantly, transforming into a wrecked outpost, scattered debris and dust floating in the air.

In front of me, three of them spawned, standing motionless, waiting for me to transform.

Too bad that's never gonna happen.

I looked down at the bracelet on my wrist, starting the whole activation process all over again.

— Sword mode.

Instantly, I felt the metal molding to my hand. The weapon and I became one—literally. The hilt and guard were an extension of my skin, as if they'd been fused directly into my bones. Maybe that was the design's intention: to make sure it could never be taken from me.

The blade pulsed in crimson tones, fine cracks glowing as if filled with living energy. I held the sword out in front of me, adjusting my stance.

The three aliens stared at me for a brief second.

Then, as if waiting for a cue, they charged at full speed.

[Please, ???, you've exceeded the recommended hours in the training room.]

A hologram blinked in front of me, projecting glowing letters into the air. It took me a second to realize what was happening.

How long had I been here?

— Can you show me the time? — I asked, still dazed.

[Sure! ???, it's exactly 8:30.]

What?

How...? How did I spend six hours here without noticing?

[??? Congratulations on your record! You eliminated 57 enemies.]

As soon as I read that, it was like my body had been waiting for that exact moment to collapse. Pain hit me like an avalanche—I dropped instantly, my muscles screaming in exhaustion. I tried to breathe, but it was almost impossible. My vision darkened, a crushing weight pressing down on my chest.

Then a shadow fell over me.

— You overdid it again, didn't you, idiot?

Z's voice was full of irritation—and concern.

— You could've told me. I would've knocked you out… nicely or not.

I used the last of my strength to reply:

— Please… no more threats…

The room returned to its default state. Without another word, Z split her mechanical arms and dragged me to the med bay. The pain was unbearable, but somehow, I was getting used to it.

Once there, she tossed me into a recovery capsule without the slightest ceremony. The impact made me groan. The glass sealed shut.

Z glanced at the monitor and scoffed.

— Wow… you really destroyed yourself. Torn muscles, nearly ruptured tendons, dislocated shoulder, twisted ankle, broken fingers… ARE YOU INSANE???

I looked at Z and let out a bitter laugh.

Yeah. I was.

A greenish anesthetic gas filled the chamber. As it hit my lungs, my body went numb, like I was sinking into a dense, weightless ocean.

Then a vibrant blue light swept across my body, sending out tiny electric pulses that triggered involuntary muscle spasms. At the same time, microscopic needles pierced my skin, injecting compounds directly into the damaged tissue.

I couldn't feel pain, but I could feel what was happening.

I was being rebuilt.

Then the flashbacks came.

Brutal.

It was like my mind had stayed on standby, but now my body—desperate for rest—had switched on.

Every hit, every impact, every mistake resurfaced with disturbing clarity.

Torn muscles? I pushed past my limit.

Nearly ruptured tendons? I stretched my limbs beyond what was humanly possible.

Twisted ankle? One of the holograms stomped it hard, nearly crushing the joint.

Broken fingers? Same story. Trampled—my hand crushed beneath the foot of a virtual opponent that wasn't even real.

And that's not even counting all the other injuries.

I hadn't found answers. I wasn't even sure what I was looking for.

How was fighting holograms supposed to help with that, anyway?

But I did find one thing.

Something important.

A pattern.

The pattern.

All those enemies followed predictable combat sequences. The recordings and my hands-on time made it clear: they were soldiers. Trained. Coordinated.

But they made the same mistakes.

That meant one thing—there was a solution. A simple one:

Break the pattern.

If the Rangers stopped reacting the way the enemies expected, they could wipe out entire squads in seconds.

Faster. Cleaner.

Fewer injuries.

And if they sharpened their reading of those patterns, they could predict not just common moves, but the elite enemies' too.

Victory would become a matter of timing.

That is… if that didn't happen.

The thing that could actually put the Rangers' lives in danger.

The Extra Ranger Event.