The days bled into each other. Then the weeks followed suit.
Cal's body had been dragged through hell and then thrown back in. Every afternoon after school became a ritual of pain. Squats, pull-ups, bodyweight drills, core slams, resistance routines, and Garron's ungodly sprints that made his lungs feel like splintered glass. The once-idle teen now ran on a schedule that didn't care if his legs begged for mercy.
He hated it but He also couldn't stop.
Each night he got home sore, barely able to climb into bed. But each morning, something shifted. Subtle at first. His reflection once soft and forgettable started showing faint lines where there were none before. His stamina, once a joke, was now capable of carrying him through a full set without throwing up. The change was slow, but undeniable.
And Selene noticed.
She stood silently one afternoon, reviewing the data from a nearby monitor as numbers charted out his vitals: heart rate, endurance spikes, recovery time, muscle growth markers. Her eyes skimmed the screen before she gave a single nod. That was all.
Cal, however, had more dramatic ideas. Steam curled around him as he stepped out of the Ledger's showers, a towel slung over his shoulder, water still tracing lines down his back. He stood shirtless in front of the long, sleek mirror embedded in the training facility wall, half-expecting the same scrawny kid to look back.
Instead, he saw definition. Not sculpted, not yet—but there was tone. There were beginnings. His fingers ghosted over the shallow cuts near his abdomen. Still soft, but promising.
He smirked. "Damn right," he murmured. "Steel beneath the skin, baby…"
"That what you call flirting with yourself?" came a voice from the door.
Cal jumped—nearly lost the towel.
Selene leaned casually against the doorway, her arms crossed, a single finger pressed lightly to her lower lip in an exaggerated curve. Her outfit today? A black button-down blouse barely clinging to restraint, paired with fitted combat pants and heeled boots. Somehow professional and sinful in the same breath.
"I—Jesus—do you ever knock!?"
She laughed, stepping further into the room with that maddening calm. "It's a training facility, not your bedroom."
"I was naked five minutes ago!"
"Even better." She added
Cal grabbed his shirt off the nearby bench, yanking it over his head with flustered grumbling. Selene watched, amused.
"Relax. I'm here for work." She tilted her head. "It's been, what—three weeks since you started your physicals?"
"Yeah." He was still straightening his shirt. "What, you want me to do more push-ups or something?"
"Nope." She turned, motioning for him to follow. "It's time we evaluate your ability. You've built enough stamina to at least test it"
"Voidreach…" Cal mutters whilst looking at his palm.
"Ooouu.. is that the name we are calling it now?" Selene asked almost teasingly
He shrugged. "Feels like what it is. Reaching through… nothing. Taking what I want."
"Very well then." Selene concurred.
Cal continues, "Last time I used it was when I pulled that magazine out of the pile. Haven't really touched it since."
Selene glanced over her shoulder as they walked. "Caution? Or fear?"
"Both?". Cal answered
"Fair."
She led him to a different wing—sleek, quiet, and colder in design. The ceiling arched higher, the lights lower. This part of the facility wasn't for physicals. This was for control and abilities testing.
In the center of the room was a large, open square lined with various objects laid out on elevated pedestals. Each was spaced apart, as if waiting for some ceremonial test. Some were mundane: a steel coin, a glass of water, a small book. Others were more peculiar—an antique dagger, a crystalline orb, an iron-bound chest no bigger than a lunchbox. One was a suspended dumbbell hanging mid-air on a barely visible wire.
Selene gestured to the array. "Think of it like a buffet. You'll try each. Steal what you can."
"And if I can't?"
"Then we learn why."
The nearby wall was glass—behind it, a few Ledger analysts observed silently, scribbling data into pads or typing away. Cal adjusted his stance as Selene stepped off to the side, giving him full focus.
He inhaled slowly.
The first object—a coin. It shimmered under the spotlight. He focused. He wanted it. Not for value, but to prove he could take it.
There was a shift—an invisible pull like a vacuum tearing fabric and then, the coin shot into his hand.
Selene didn't flinch. "Good. Again."
Second object—a pen. He repeated the motion. It came slower, but still obeyed. The book was next. It took longer, his forehead now damp. The dagger? Only budged. The orb? No response.
Sweat rolled down his temple. His arms trembled slightly, even though he hadn't moved them.
Selene's voice came through like silk. "You're pushing too hard too fast. Breathe. Your desire is the key—but it also burns stamina. Think of it like muscle. Train it right… or tear it."
Cal nodded, panting lightly. He tried again. This time the orb quivered—but then dropped. Still, that was progress.
Selene observed closely. "So far, it's tied to line of sight… and physical visibility. You're improving. You can take what you see."
Cal let out a shaky laugh, wiping his forehead. "I'll take it. I mean, not everyone can rip stuff toward them with their mind, right?"
She didn't answer. Her voice lowered.
"Now…"
She walked a slow arc around him, her boots echoing faintly.
"Can you steal…"
Her eyes glinted—something playful, something wicked.
"…what you can't see?"
The lights in the facility dimmed—slightly. Just enough to blur the edges of the room. The glass wall began to polarize.
Cal turned slowly toward her, heart skipping. The challenge hung in the air like smoke. Selene gave him a look.
One that said this—this next part—was where the real game began.