The new day brought little warmth to the huge factory. Eliot shivered, pulling his jacket tighter. He hadn't slept much. The System's constant, low hum in his mind, and the heavy responsibility of Stella being there, kept him awake. He looked at her, curled on a makeshift bed of flattened cardboard boxes, breathing lightly and steadily. She looked so small, so defenseless. Yet, he remembered the wild power that had burst from her just yesterday.
He checked his System Status.
SYSTEM STATUS:
* Host: Eliot Vance
* Physical Condition: Recovering (35% Charged)
* Mental Condition: Stable (Resolved)
* System Integration: Basic (3.1% Synced)
* Active Abilities: Basic Telekinesis (Level 1)
* Energy Reserves (Host): Recovering (30% Charged)
* Energy Reserves (System): Stable
It was a slow, frustrating climb. Thirty percent energy, barely enough for simple mind-moving actions. And Stella's condition, though he couldn't see her exact details, felt similarly uncertain. They were running on fumes, two small flames in a vast, growing darkness.
When Stella stirred, her eyes fluttered open, still a bit dazed. She sat up slowly, rubbing her arms. "Cold," she mumbled, then her eyes sharpened as she remembered where she was and what she was. "Did you… did you sleep?"
"Not much," Eliot admitted. "Too much on my mind. We need to figure out what to do next. Food will be a problem, and we can't stay here forever. But mostly, we need to understand this." He tapped his temple, pointing to the System.
Their breakfast was the last bits of their energy bars, eaten slowly to make them last. The silence between them was heavy with unasked questions.
"So, my uncontrolled energy," Stella began, breaking the quiet. "How do I make it… not do that?"
Eliot thought back to his own success with the twig, then the brick. "It's about focusing. About intending. You felt that raw burst yesterday, right? Today, try to feel it again, but imagine it like a contained ball of light inside you. Don't let it burst out. Just… hold it."
Stella closed her eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration. Eliot watched her closely. After a moment, a faint, almost invisible shimmer began to form around her, the same heat-haze distortion he'd seen before, but this time, without objects flying around. It was a controlled flicker, a whisper of power.
Eliot felt a surge of excitement. "That's it, Stella! You're holding it in. Keep that feeling. Don't push it out, just keep it inside."
Stella groaned softly, a vein pulsing at her temple. "It's… it's like holding back a scream. It wants to get out."
"I know," Eliot said, understanding. "But you're doing it. You're controlling the urge, not the power itself yet. That's the first step."
They spent most of the morning doing this exercise. Stella would manage to contain the surge for a few minutes. The shimmer around her showed her struggle, before her focus would break, and the energy would safely disappear. Each time she succeeded, Eliot felt a subtle nudge from his own System, a small increase in his Integration percentage. Their shared effort, their shared struggle, seemed to directly help his own progress.
"My System integration just went up to 3.2%," Eliot announced after one of Stella's successful containment attempts. "I think… I think us working together, understanding this, it helps both of us. It helps the System integrate, somehow."
Stella opened her eyes, a glimmer of hope mixed with her tiredness. "So the 'unregistered host difference'… maybe it's not just about us being a problem. Maybe it's about two incomplete parts trying to connect?"
Eliot thought about this. "Or maybe it's just efficient. Two hosts learning faster than one. Whatever it is, it means we need each other."
As the hours passed, Eliot also tried to improve his own abilities. He focused on a rusty bolt stuck in a metal plate, willing it to loosen, to move. He felt the familiar strain, the blue glow around his hand more consistent now, but the bolt stayed stubbornly in place. His Basic Telekinesis (Level 1) was still very basic, far from what Hunter-Alpha seemed capable of.
He also kept an eye on his internal map. So far, the large, abandoned factory remained quiet, no new anomalies detected, no sign of Hunter-Alpha. But the threat was a constant, cold presence in the back of his mind.
By midday, they were both tired, their progress small but clear. They were learning, adapting. They were no longer simply victims. They were becoming something else, something new. The echoes of power, once terrifyingly out of control, were slowly bending to their will.