CHAPTER TEN
The video haunted Olivia for days.
She searched for it online—variations, copies, discussions—but found nothing. Every forum thread about "superhuman fight footage" had been deleted. Every video removed for "terms of service violations." It was like someone was systematically erasing evidence.
Meanwhile, her training intensified. Lucas pushed her harder than ever, adding weapons training to her regimen.
Wooden swords first, then dull metal practice blades.
He taught her Filipino stick fighting—escrima, sinawali patterns, disarms and traps.
He taught her the basics of spear work, using a wooden staff that reminded her of Valeria Vance's signature weapon, the chronos-glaive.
"Why weapons?" Olivia asked one morning, sweat dripping from her chin as she practiced a disarm for the hundredth time.
"Because weapons multiply force," Lucas said. "And because the world is changing."
"Changing how?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he attacked—suddenly, seriously, his wooden stick whistling toward her head.
Olivia reacted on instinct. She parried, stepped inside his range, and trapped his weapon arm against her body using a technique he'd drilled into her muscle memory. The disarm worked perfectly. The stick clattered to the mat.
They stared at each other, breathing hard.
"Good," Lucas said, but his voice was distant. "Again."
They trained weapons for two hours. By the end, Olivia's hands were blistered despite the tape, and her shoulders ached with a deep, satisfying exhaustion.
"You're progressing faster than I expected," Lucas admitted as they stretched.
"Is that praise? From you? Should I record this?"
"Don't get used to it."
"Too late. I'm framing it."
Lucas smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He'd been distracted lately—checking his phone constantly, scanning the gym entrance like he was expecting someone, leaving suddenly for "errands" that took hours.
"Lucas," Olivia said, seizing the moment. "Tell me about the video. The real fight. Please."
He was silent for a long time, his fingers stilled on his ankle where he'd been stretching.
"There are... abilities," he said finally. "Some people are born with them. Others... acquire them. It's genetic, mostly. Latent potential that activates under stress or training."
"Superpowers."
"I wouldn't use that word."
"What word would you use?"
"Awakened." He met her eyes. "Some people awaken to abilities beyond normal human limits. Strength, speed, durability. Senses. Healing. And other things—stranger things."
Olivia's mind raced. "The men in the video."
"Both awakened. Fighting over territory, probably. It happens more than people realize."
"And you?"
Lucas's jaw tightened. "I know about this world because I was born into it. My father was awakened. My mother wasn't. I inherited... some things."
"Some things?"
"Enhanced reflexes. Faster healing. Nothing dramatic. I'm not going to lift cars or shoot lasers from my eyes."
"But you're stronger than normal. Faster. That's why you move the way you do."
"Yes."
Olivia processed this. Her trainer—her friend, her almost-maybe-something-more—was literally superhuman. And he'd been training her, a completely normal human, to fight in a world where people could shatter concrete with their fists.
"Why train me?" she asked. "If the world has awakened people, what chance does someone like me have?"
Lucas leaned forward, his green eyes fierce.
"Because the greatest fighters in history weren't always the strongest or the fastest. They were the smartest. The most adaptable.
The most determined." He reached out and tapped her temple.
"You have something better than awakened genetics, Olivia.
You have an obsessive, brilliant, relentless mind.
And a body that's far more capable than you were ever told. "
"But—"
"And because something is coming. Something big. I don't know exactly what, but I feel it. The awakened community is nervous. Old powers are stirring. And when whatever-it-is arrives, I want you ready."
Olivia's mouth was dry. "You think the world is about to change."
"I know it is."
"When?"
Lucas looked at his phone. The screen showed a news alert—something about unusual seismic activity, strange weather patterns, reports of "mass hallucinations" in remote areas.
"Soon," he said. "Faster than I thought."
The lights in the gym flickered. Just once. A brief stutter in the electrical grid.
Outside, somewhere in the distance, a sound echoed through the city. Not a siren. Not an explosion. Something lower, deeper, like the earth itself had exhaled.
Lucas stood, every muscle coiled. "Go home, Olivia. Pack a bag. Food, water, clothes, anything you can't live without. And be back here tomorrow at four AM."
"Lucas—"
"Go. Now."
She went. But as she drove home through streets that suddenly felt too quiet, too still, Olivia couldn't shake the feeling that the life she'd been building—the training, the friendships, the almost-romance—was about to be tested in ways she'd never imagined.
Valeria Vance had faced apocalypses. She'd fought through timelines collapsing, realities fracturing, armies of impossible enemies.
Olivia gripped the steering wheel and whispered into the silence:
"Okay, Val. Show me what you've got."