Vescrutia: Legacy

The hum of the AIONS cores was more than sound; it was the resonant heartbeat of the Gamalloow clan’s industrial heartland, a deep thrum within the Antlion. For Eridin, the Head of the Gamallow, it was the ballad of possibility, a symphony composed of infinite potential. He bore a unique charge, gifted this incredible technology by Hyperia's enigmatic Dr. Bhu: to push the boundaries of their existence, to rewrite fundamental limitations. The AIONS – Artificially Intelligent Omnipotent Nanobound Sentinels – were not mere machines; they were programmable, self-replicating, highly adaptable sentient particles, a liquid stream of potential guided by conscious intent.

Eridin himself was already a testament to augmentation, his mind linked symbiotically with Xetta, a pioneering AI implant that flowed through his consciousness. Xetta amplified his intellect, granting him unparalleled access to the digital realm and a unique, intuitive grasp of nanite interactions. When Dr. Bhu first unveiled the blueprints, Eridin's mind, already accelerated by Xetta, had instantly theorized solutions for two pressing needs within the clan. This story, however, began with the first, the most urgent, the most deeply felt: the plight of the Sunless.

These were the enslaved shinobi, victims of an ancient, heinous ritual of penitence enacted by the other great shinobi families. This cruel act didn't merely blind them; it violently severed their physical senses, granting them heightened, if warped, perceptions in other domains, but at the cost of physical sight. Crucially, it also severed their connection to their Dankestu, a haunting visual power that allowed them to steal the souls of those whose gaze fell upon them. Blinding them stripped them of this terrifying weapon and left them utterly vulnerable to their oppressors. Eridin carried the weight of their suffering personally, for only through his mother and father's bravery and sacrifice had he been spared such a grueling fate. He was determined to honor their memory by freeing the Sunless not just from their chains, but from their enforced darkness.

Motivated by profound compassion and the burning potential he knew lay dormant within these broken warriors, Eridin channeled the power of the AIONS. Weeks bled into months in the sterile, humming sanctuary of his laboratory. His work was meticulous, a dance of delicate precision, as he weaved the AIONS nanites with organic matter harvested from specialized bio-reactors. The AIONS acted as microscopic sculptors, guided by the complex neural patterns Eridin derived from exhaustive study of both Dankestu's hidden mechanics and the intricate structure of the optic nerve.

His first breakthrough was the "Eyes Of The AIONS". These were far beyond simple prosthetics; they were intricate, layered constructs that were simultaneously robotic and organic in nature. They replicated the complex biological structure of a natural eye but integrated AIONS nanites throughout, allowing for variable-spectrum sight, real-time data overlay directly into the visual feed, and, most critically, they forged a new, stable pathway for the dormant Dankestu to flow.

The first subject to receive this miracle was Number 1; Yin Shi, the scarred and venerable leader of the entire Shi Clad, marked by decades of sightless existence. As the AION Eyes were carefully bonded with his atrophied optic nerve bundles, guided by Eridin's focused will, amplified and refined by Xetta, a palpable jolt ran through the hushed laboratory. Yin gasped, not in pain, but in an overwhelming surge of wonder.

"I... I can see," his voice rasped, unused to voicing such a simple, profound truth after so long in shadow. But it was more than just sight. A faint, shimmering aura pulsed around him, a spectral luminescence – the cursed, magnificent power of the Dankestu, stirring to life once more.

"I never thought I... I never dreamed..." Yin could barely articulate the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming him, dammed up for so long.

Tears, sightless for so many years, finally tracked across his weathered cheeks, carving paths through ancient scars. His gaze fixed across the room. He looked upon Yang, his son, whose face he had only ever felt with his fingertips. Finally, his newly seeing eyes fell upon the other members of the Shi 10, his most loyal warriors, who bowed deeply and sincerely before him. Their guide, their leader, had returned from the endless night.

"You have single-handedly led this fight in the darkness against those who would see us as nothing more than cattle," Eridin said with a deep bow, pride swelling in his chest but tempered with humility. "You gave us purpose, Number 1. Restoring your sight is the very least I could do."

News of the AIONS Eyes spread like wildfire through the hidden Shi compounds and beyond, a beacon of impossible hope reigniting among the Sunless community. Word of Eridin's genius spread with it, transforming him from Head of Clan to a potential liberator in the eyes of the enslaved. He traveled from compound to compound, bringing his mobile laboratory and the miracle of sight. Each Sunless warrior, one at a time, was given the choice to reclaim their stolen light. Though the years of darkness had created a strange comfort for some, who ultimately chose to remain within the bounds of their eternal shadow, many others eagerly took him up on his offer. From the formidable Bear clan of the Urso to the agile Mantis clan of the Flonne, their visions were restored, their Dankestu reawakened, and a new dawn began to break over the long night of the Sunless.

--Days Later--

The air in the primary research wing hummed with a low, resonant energy, a symphony of unseen processes and contained power. Eridin moved through it not as a visitor, but as its conductor. His boots made faint taps on the polished floor as he navigated between workstations bristling with holographic displays and intricate energy conduits. His mind, however, was already constructing the edifice of his next great work: Project SLAYER.

It wasn't born in the sterile calm of a laboratory ideal. It was forged in the crucible of necessity. The clan, historically formidable masters of Tai-Shi and wielders of Nestu, the thermal Ephemeral Art, faced threats unlike any they had encountered before. The surrounding world had become a volatile stew of aggressively expanding technological empires and ancient, resurgent mystical forces. Standard augmentation protocols – enhancers that slightly boosted senses or mildly improved muscle response – were like applying a balm to a gaping wound. The Shi Ten, his peers, the clan's ten paragons, needed more than an edge; they needed a total paradigm shift.

Eridin didn't envision lumbering exoskeletons or remote-controlled drones. His vision was organic, symbiotic. He saw cybernetic, nano-bound exosuits, not worn, but lived. These would be woven from concentrated AIONS nanites, microscopic miracle-machines capable of instant metamorphosis. Housed inert within a sleek core on the warrior's body, they would, upon activation, flow like liquid metal, solidifying into personalized armor, weapons, or tools. They would grant the host not just augmented strength and speed, but the very properties inherent to the AIONS themselves – shifting density to become an impenetrable shield or blades sharper than any forged steel, changing color for perfect camouflage, adapting form for any situation.

The true genius, the beating heart of SLAYER, resided within the warrior's mind. A sophisticated cerebral implant housed the ANNI program. Like Xetta, Eridin's foundational, sprawling AI creation, residing primarily in the clan's cybernetic core, was nurtured with the fierce protectiveness of a parent. ANNI was more than just code. It was Artificial Neural Naten Intelligence – sentient, living energy sculpted by technology, designed to be a seamless extension of the host consciousness. Its purpose was not control, but amplification. It would meld with the warrior's honed intuition, their unparalleled skills, and their innate Nestu affinity, pushing their capabilities far beyond existing limits.

Where Xetta was the source code, the ever-present network consciousness, ANNI was the distributed architecture – modular, adaptable, ready to be personalized for each distinct mind it bonded with. With the ANNI implant, the SLAYER suit became an extension of the shinobi, learning, evolving, and adapting in lockstep. Nestu mastery, already a fearsome power, would bloom into terrifying new forms. The subtle manipulation of heat could coalesce into roaring blades of plasma, slicing through armored hulls with ease. The control over cold could become a molecular grip, flash-freezing targets into brittle immobility. Eridin, meticulous to a fault, ensured that while the base ANNI framework was universal, Xetta, with her subtle, adaptive intelligence, would guide each implant's development, allowing unique personality traits to emerge, tailored by the 'EGO' template – a psychological profile of the Shi host it would bond with.

But the ultimate power of SLAYER lay in its interconnectedness. Eridin built the system with Xetta as the central nexus. The ANNI implants wouldn't operate in isolation. They would wirelessly attune to each other through Xetta's unparalleled processing power and her constant, instantaneous link to Eridin himself. This wasn't a forced conformity, but a pseudo-hive mind – a state of profound, instantaneous connection. They could share everything: tactical data, enemy locations, visual feeds, audio cues, even raw sensory input – the precise coordinates of a threat, the feel of a sudden pressure change, the scent of leaking coolant. Operating as a single, perfectly coordinated unit, their combined potential would become exponentially greater than the sum of their formidable parts.

Of the ten, only seven stood ready for the initial integration. Yin, the clan's stoic, legend-like leader, felt the augmentations unnecessary; his path was rooted solely in the ancient tenets of Tai-Shi and personal mastery. Jao, Number 5, a whirlwind of chaotic brilliance, had been told explicitly by Eridin to stay away; the architect had a separate, uniquely tailored development in mind just for him, something that didn't fit the standard ANNI framework. Eridin himself, Number 3, the creator, did not participate in this initial wave; his role was that of the observer, the architect, and the nexus point with Xetta during the process.

Seven warriors, their presence radiating a calm, disciplined power honed over decades, waited in the central integration chamber. They were the clan's cutting edge, about to be sharpened further, about to become something entirely new. Their fates, and perhaps the fate of the clan itself, were about to be irrevocably, technologically entwined. The humming of the workshops intensified, a prelude to transformation.

"Alright, Xetta... let's get started!"

High above, in the observation room overlooking the grounds, the projectors flickered to life, projecting a clear, crisp image of Eridin onto a large screen. His voice, calm and carrying an undeniable weight of authority and creation, echoed through the external speakers.

"I thank you all for coming," Eridin's voice began, "The time for the first full group activation and synchronized test is upon us. Please state your name, Clan, and Number."

The first voice was deep, resonant, and utterly devoid of inflection. "Yang-Shi, Ri'ore, Number 2." Standing tall and perfectly still, Yang was the embodiment of stoicism. His dark black hair seemed to absorb the light, a shadow manifest, framing a face dominated by eyes of piercing violet that seemed to see through the visible world. An intense, almost tangible, aura of quiet power surrounded him.

Next, a voice with a strange, almost melodic quality, tinged with ancient echoes. "I am Uriko, Head of the Flonne-Shi, Number four." Her posture was elegant, regal. Pink hair, thick and flowing, draped behind her like a vibrant cape, nearly reaching the ground. Her eyes shimmered with an unusual, iridescent pink hue, like the gaze of a mythical serpent.

A confident, slightly arrogant tone followed. "Name's Vern, Flonne, My number is Six." He stood with an effortless, self-assured grace, a hand resting lightly on his hip. Like Uriko, he possessed striking pink hair, an evident trait of the Flonne lineage, but his eyes were a piercing, vibrant lime green that seemed to analyze and judge everything they landed upon. An air of regal arrogance clung to him like a second skin.

A low chuckle preceded the following statement, a vibration in the air more than a sound. "Zanji, Clan Urso of course, Number 7." Standing nearly 6'3, Zanji was a presence. His hair was a mass of dark, coiled locks atop his head, like a twisted, organic crown. His face held a casual smirk, but beneath it lay a subtle intensity, a predatory awareness that belied his relaxed posture.

A crisp, disciplined voice cut through the air. "Merza, also of the Ri'ore clan, I'm Number 8." Petite in stature compared to some of the others, Merza's form was etched with the refined musculature of a dedicated warrior. Her raven-black hair was pulled back into a severely high ponytail, emphasizing the sharp lines of her face and the unwavering focus in her dark eyes. Every line of her body spoke of rigorous training and readiness.

The next voice was soft, hesitant, almost a whisper despite the amplification. "I... um... am Alona... of the Urso, M-my Number is 9." She stood a fair height, about 5'9, her chestnut skin lightly bronzed. She was clad in a simple, white garment that matched the unusual, silvery-white strands woven into her hair. Her eyes, large and silver, mirrored her bashful demeanor. To an untrained observer, she might appear unassuming, nothing special. Still, there was a stillness about her, a coiled energy that whispered of the 'vision of carnage personified' she became when the need arose.

Finally, a voice laced with theatrical flourish and undeniable self-importance. "The infallible Cain Gamallow, Number 10, at your service." He punctuated his statement with a sweeping bow that verged on mockery, a feigned humility that did little to mask the self-righteous ego and lofty idealism that radiated from him.

Eridin's image nodded slightly on the screen, a silent acknowledgment of the completed roster. "Excellent," his voice resonated. "You have been chosen because you represent the peak of what the Snake Clan has to offer. For far too long, we have watched our family mutilated and murdered without cause because Edo is obsessed with the past. Well, together, we will plunge into the future of what it means to be not only Shinbi, but Edoan."

A pause, letting his words sink in, the gravity of what was unraveling here.

"The SLAYER suits are more than just enhancements; aside from becoming a second skin, they are a network, a bridge. Today, we test the strength of that bridge when fully active and working in concert...I must warn you...this level of awareness will not be without complications. It will be painful, and an overload that, if you are not truly resolved, could very well shatter your minds."

The quiet tension on the grounds tightened. This was it. The seven figures, so diverse in appearance and demeanor, were about to transcend their selves and attempt a connection on a level previously only theorized.

"Focus on the core within you," Eridin instructed, his voice dropping slightly, becoming more guiding. "Feel the nanites awaken. Let them hum with potential. On my mark, allow that energy to flow freely, and seek the resonance of the others. We will start with the activation of the suits, followed by the EGO uploads. Afterwards...the final step will be the Neural Link."

He raised his hand. They all looked at each other. Despite their varying differences, the group had fought one hellish fight after another by each other's side. Few would find a closer family bond than the one present today. They were ready.

"Right...activating SLAYER suits"

One by one, on Eridin’s signal, the latent technology within their bodies stirred to life.

A faint hum rose from deep within their chests, the core of the nanite colonies beating in sync with their hearts. Their eyes, once bright and alert, grew distant and glazed — no longer focused on the physical world but on the swirling microcosm within. A ripple of synaptic fire raced across their temples, and the subtle circuitry in their minds became a new pathway connecting them all.

Then came the transformation—the AION nanites responded with eerie grace. Like liquid shadows, the black metal spread over skin and clothing, reshaping and solidifying into armor that was no mere defense, but an extension of will and essence.

Yang’s matte black suit took form first , sleek and unyielding. The crimson X across his torso pulsed faintly, as if alive; in his hands appeared two blazing crimson weapons — an imposing sight reserved for the clan’s indomitable bastion.

Uriko’s armor shimmered next, silver and rose gold woven in serpent-like patterns that danced across her limbs. The intricacy of her suit mirrored her precision, its flexibility perfect for swift movement and deadly ranged attacks.

Vern was clothed in regal blue with crystalline edges cutting through the air with quiet authority.

Zanji’s obsidian grey suit was raw and rugged — a ferocious storm of power and agility combined. His fluid motion suggested the devastating strikes that would soon rain down upon their enemies.

Merza’s refined gunmetal plating hugged her form effortlessly, a ghostly feline presence on the battlefield. Through this armor, she could slip in and out of reality’s grasp, phasing through obstacles and dealing precision strikes from the unseen.

Alona’s glowing pearlescent white armor belied her true might — a conduit of devastating energy manipulation. The armor shimmered faintly, deceptively delicate yet forged for destruction.

Cain’s polished chrome suit gleamed, accented with dark royal purple that signified creation and majesty. His armor wasn’t just protection but a canvas.

Eridin’s gaze swept over them, pride and a cautious hope mingling beneath his measured exterior.

"Uploading EGO templates, data profiles engaging."

Xetta's voice came through Eridin's mind with a crisp, calculated cadence. The first "wave of awakening" occurred as each ANNI implants whirred to life, synchronizing with the seven Shi warriors.

• Warrior: Focused on physical combat, strength, and durability.

• Mage: Wielding powerful energy/elemental attacks.

• Outlaw: Agile, stealthy, capable of phasing and incorporeal interaction.

• Healer: Support, healing, energy manipulation.

• Artist: Creation, summoning of unique constructs.

• Knight: Defense, drawing threat, resilience.

• Archer: Ranged combat mastery, precision, tactical prediction

Yang, the steadfast Number 2, felt the deep resonance of the Knight EGO settle into his core. His suit and ANNI system now prioritized resilience above all else, his core ability manifesting as the absorption and redirection of external kinetic force. Impacts that would flatten a tank could now be soaked into his AIONS lattice, the energy stored and then unleashed as devastating kinetic bursts or channeled into counterattacks of impossible force, making him an unshakeable shield.

Uriko, the blindingly swift Number 4, felt the surge of hyper-awareness as the Archer EGO aligned. Her ANNI became a lightning-fast predictor, processing not just trajectories and wind currents, but microscopic air shifts and the minuscule muscle tenses of her opponents, anticipating enemy movement with impossible accuracy. Tactical solutions whispered directly into her enhanced awareness. While her suit could conjure an armament of firearms from its nanite mass, its true specialty remained the bow, manifesting in various forms capable of firing diverse ammo types, including a signature Serpent round that could breach reinforced shielding, twisting through defenses like its namesake.

Vern, the Number 6, felt a warmth spread from his core, the Healer EGO amplifying his innate Flonne abilities. His suit could now project wide-area restoration fields, bathing allies in healing light, or channel hyper-concentrated streams of energy. This intense focus of thermal light wasn't just for mending; its unique energy signature allowed it to solidify and sharpen into blades and fields capable of slicing through substances of immense complexity, healing blades and protective barriers forged from the same restorative source.

Zanji, the whirlwind of combat, the Number 7, felt his very being throb with power as the Warrior EGO integrated. Already a master of martial arts and weaponry, his ANNI integration amplified his speed and physical strength to inhuman levels. He could close distances in an instant, strike with the force of a battering ram while maintaining surgical precision. As a weapon specialist, his suit could conjure them as needed, the forms shifting with his moods and the needs of battle—katana slicing swiftly and precisely, colossal greatswords splitting the air with immense force, or swift daggers dancing in close quarters. His Nestu flared with each strike, heat lancing from his blade, igniting his enemies’ and increasing his power with each consecutive blow.

Merza, the ghost in the machine, the Number 8, felt the boundaries of reality blur as the Outlaw EGO took hold. Her latent ability to manipulate states of matter was pushed to incredible extremes. Using the AIONS nanites, she could seamlessly shift her molecular state, alternating between solid form, liquid (slipping through impossibly small gaps), or gaseous forms at will. Her ANNI also enhanced her innate phasing abilities, allowing her to move through solid objects and even generate phantom limbs capable of interacting with the incorporeal or manipulating energies others couldn't perceive, making her an unstoppable infiltrator.

Alona, the conduit of power, the Number 9, felt a torrent of raw energy surge within her as the Mage EGO elevated her. Her already formidable command over Nestu was amplified to supernatural levels. Blending arcane understanding with the raw energy manipulation of the ANNI, she could conjure thermal phenomena on a devastating scale – localized flame storms searing the air, bolts of crackling lightning generated by manipulating rapid temperature differentials, or produce cold on a molecular level, flash-freezing targets instantly and rendering them brittle.

Cain, the visionary crafter, the Number 10, felt his imagination become reality as the Artist EGO integrated. His Ephemeral Art, the shaping of thermal energy, now had the nanites as his medium, responding to his mind like painters’ brushes. His creations, the beasts he called Hell Hounds, became a seamless blend of magic and technology, given super durable form and function, ranging from swarming, biting insects to massive, armored constructs, which he controlled with his mind. Each creature was a temporary, programmable extension of his will and the suit’s nanite mass. However, the Hell Hounds remained his favorite, their forms solidifying around him, loyal and fierce.

As Eridin observed each warrior, their unique suits radiating with the latent power of their activated EGOs, he felt a mixture of pride and cautious hope. The Slayers were no longer mere humans, not in the traditional sense. They were symbiotes of ancient art and cutting-edge innovation, capable of feats once dreamed of only in myths. The nanites hummed, the EGOs blazed, a testament to the daring marriage of Nestu and AION. But with this great power came a significant risk. This advancement would push their physical bodies to the limit, beyond anything any normal human being could hope to achieve... then again. The Shi were far from normal as is.

The humming settled into a low, consistent thrum. The blank stares faded from the warriors' eyes, replaced by the light of enhanced awareness, now coloured by the potential of their specific EGOs.

"Take a moment to settle," Xetta's voice returned, now directed at the Shi themselves, clear and precise within their minds. "Neural link commencing in T-minus 20."

The air in the chamber, moments ago filled with the subtle sounds of transformation, now held a heavier stillness. The faint internal thrumming within the Shi Ten had settled into a deep, resonant hum, a constant vibration that was now them. They stood tall, figures encased in the newly solidified AION suits, each a distinct silhouette against the controlled lighting of the activation platform: seven distinct forms, seven unique embodiments of ancient martial principles translated into bleeding-edge technology.

Eridin watched from a nearby console, the blue light reflecting in his eyes. He saw not just seven formidable warriors, but seven complex systems, each integrating millennia-old techniques with bleeding-edge technology. Xetta's presence was a silent web, connecting them, processing data, and preparing for the critical next step. The AI's non-corporeal form existed as a constant, unseen layer within the network, the true nervous system of the Shi Ten collective mind.

The hum deepened, a frequency shift felt more in the bones than in the ears. It was the final calibration, during which the system verified the integrity of the neural links, power conduits, and weapon nanites.

"T-minus 10," Xetta's voice echoed not just in Eridin's mind, but simultaneously, internally, within the consciousness of each Shi warrior. Calm, absolute, and utterly present. The connection wasn't gradual; it was an explosion waiting to happen, a switch poised to flip.

"9... Neural pathways optimizing..."

The warriors took deep, steadying breaths, their movements precise, almost automatic, guided by instinct and the early whispers of the integrated systems. The silence stretched, thick with anticipation, the hum the only sound that mattered.

"8... Synaptic bridges linking..."

A subtle pressure built behind their eyes, a faint tingling sensation spreading from the base of their skulls, where the primary neural interfaces were seated.

"7... EGO anchors locking..."

The sensation intensified. The individual hums began to harmonize, converging into a single, powerful note that resonated through the chamber and within their very beings. Their unique energies, previously distinct frequencies, are now aligned, preparing for convergence.

"6... Data flow protocols confirmed..."

A cascade of information flashed behind their eyes – system diagnostics, weapon schematics for their unique forms, tactical overlays waiting for an environment to project onto. Their minds, enhanced by the implants, began to process the sheer volume with impossible speed.

"5... Consciousness interfaces aligning..."

The pressure peaked. The barrier between thought and action, between intent and nanite response, thinned to nothing. The seven individual minds braced for the torrent they knew was coming.

"4..."

The hum was deafening now, though only internally. The air around the Shi Ten began to shimmer visibly.

"3..."

Their forms seemed to vibrate, indistinct at the edges for a fraction of a second.

"2..."

The collective breath held, taut and waiting.

"1..."

A torrent of sensory input slammed into their minds simultaneously. It was far more than mere data; it was raw, unfiltered existence perceived through seven different lenses at once. They were suddenly perceiving the world through seven sets of eyes, seven sets of ears, feeling the ground beneath seven pairs of feet, sensing the subtle shift in air currents around seven distinct bodies.

Vern felt the precise angle of the sun on Yang's face, thousands of miles above the subterranean chamber, relayed through orbital sensor networks linked to Yang's suit. Merza heard the distant, faint hum of the observation room's ventilation system through Alona's enhanced hearing, the sound amplified and shared across the network. Zanji registered the slight tension in Uriko's shoulders, felt it as a phantom ache in his own muscles, even though Uriko stood across the platform. Uriko saw the microscopic dust motes suspended in the air reflecting light, picked up by Cain's suit sensors, the detail rendered with impossible clarity in her own visual feed.

It was a cacophony, overwhelming and disorienting. Sensory details fought for dominance – Vern's suit's heat signature reading, Merza's micro-tremor detection, Zanji's atmospheric analysis, Yang's broad-spectrum visual, Uriko's acoustic mapping, Cain's structural integrity scans, Alona's energy readings. Several of them staggered, a collective gasp escaping their lips as their individual consciousnesses wrestled with the sudden, intimate invasion of six others. The pseudo-hive mind was not a gentle merge, but a forceful, instantaneous union, a lightning strike through their very souls.

For a terrifying second, individual thought was subsumed by the sheer, chaotic flood. Panic flickered in the silver eyes of Alona, quickly suppressed as the system, guided by Xetta and Eridin, began to impose order. The raw sensory flood didn't cease, but it was rapidly processed, filtered, prioritized, and shared as usable information. The disorientation receded, replaced by a startling, profound clarity. Chaos resolved into a complex, interconnected tapestry of awareness.

Their individual perspectives didn't vanish; they layered, like transparent sheets placed one upon the other, each contributing to a single, deeper understanding. Every Shi Ten now possessed a real-time, three-dimensional holographic map overlaid on their vision, showing the precise location and status of every other member. Tactical data flowed like a second bloodstream – energy levels, weapon readiness, micro-environmental readings from across the training ground, enemy signatures detected by any single suit's sensor suite, instantly triangulated and shared across the seven.

A thought flickered in Yang's mind – Perimeter integrity report, West Sector. Before he could even consciously vocalize the command, the data appeared, crisp and complete, sourced from sensors linked to Uriko's suit, who happened to be facing that direction, and cross-referenced with passive scans from Vern. It wasn't sent, it was shared, a collective pool of knowledge instantly accessible to all.

Uriko felt a sudden, subtle pressure change in the air near the eastern wall, picked up by Vern's suit. Instantly, her mental overlay highlighted that area. She didn't need to ask Vern what it was; she knew, with Vern's own certainty, that he was subtly adjusting his suit's environmental filters in preparation for a simulated atmosphere change.

Merza, the trained warrior whose body control was legendary, felt the balance and stance of every other Shi Ten as if they were her own limbs. She could anticipate a shift in weight, a preparatory movement for an attack or dodge, before it even fully formed, predicting seven possible futures based on seven sets of micro-expressions translated into suit data. Her ingrained combat skill was amplified by six additional information streams, six additional bodies she could intuitively understand and predict.

Zanji, ever the strategist, felt the collective energy levels, the subtle physical tells of fatigue or readiness in each member, compiling a real-time assessment of the group's combat viability that went far beyond mere sensor data.

It wasn't a fusion, but a terrifyingly precise alignment. The seven distinct energies locked into place, not merging entirely, but forming a single, complex pattern of interlocking power. The air around them didn't just shimmer; it warped, visibly distorting as the synchronized AION energy field expanded. The ground vibrated violently, and for a terrifying second, it felt as though the entire training ground might lift into the air, held in place only by the immense structural integrity of the underground facility. A wave of raw, synchronized AION energy pulsed outward from the circle of seven, a silent explosion of force that buffeted the observation room and sent dust swirling into the air, the air itself charged with residual power.

The light peaked, blindingly bright for an instant, combining into a spectrum of controlled chaos, a temporary star born in the heart of the chamber.

Then, as quickly as it had peaked, the immense wave of energy subsided. The blinding light faded, leaving behind the residual hum and the fainter, individual auras surrounding each warrior. The ground stilled, the air settled.

The seven figures remained standing, though some swayed slightly, hands on knees or braced against their suits. Sweat beaded on their brows, visible through the suit interfaces, and their breathing was heavy, but they were intact. The palpable anticipation had been replaced by something else – awe, exhaustion, and the dawning, terrifying understanding of the power they had just collectively wielded, and the dizzying complexity of the connection they now shared.

Eridin's voice returned, quieter now, filled with a different kind of weight. "Status report, Shi Ten."

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the fading hum and their ragged breaths. Then Vern, ever the first to recover his composure, though his usual arrogance was momentarily dimmed by awe, spoke, his voice rough and strained from the physical and mental exertion. "...Activation complete. Link... established. All systems... green."

The others followed, voices shaky or breathless, confirming the success. Yang, "Connectivity stable." Merza, "Sensory input... integrated." Alona, "EGO anchors... locked." Cain, "Power flow... optimal." Uriko, "Network... solid." Zanji, "Awareness... amplified."

"Excellent," Eridin repeated, and this time, there was a note of triumph, a tremor of barely contained excitement in his tone. "The first step is complete. You have proven the potential of the full group activation. The bridge is built. Now... we see what crosses it."

"Now we test functionality."

Eridin said as the sterile white of the training deck shimmered. Eridan, observing from his elevated command dais, keyed a final sequence. "Initiate combat simulation," his voice echoed, calm and clinical. "Protocol: Gehenna's Maw. Begin."

The world dissolved. The white walls pixelated and reformed into the skeletal remains of a war-torn cityscape under a bruised, violet sky. Twisted rebar clawed at the air like metallic fingers, and the hulks of burned-out vehicles provided jagged cover. A low, guttural growl heralded the first wave of hostiles: hulking, quadrupedal constructs of chrome and sinew, their optical sensors glowing a malevolent red.

"Well...chop chop"

Eridin's voice rang as the others prepared to engage.

Before the first construct could even complete its charge, the SLAYERs moved, a symphony of purpose set in motion.

Yang planted his feet. The Knight EGO resonated within him, a deep, grounding hum. He became the epicenter of the battlefield, an immovable object. The lead construct, a behemoth the size of a large beast, smashed into him. The sound was a deafening clang of impact, a noise that should have pulped steel and bone. But Yang stood firm. A shimmering, hexagonal pattern flared across his AIONS lattice, the kinetic energy of the blow not repelling, but sinking into him. The crimson X glowed with borrowed power.

"Zanji, on me!" Yang's voice was a granite command.

An ebony blur answered. Zanji, the Number 7, was already a monsoon of motion. The Warrior EGO sang in his blood, transforming his potent martial skill into something mythic. He closed the ten-meter gap in less than a heartbeat, a katana of solidified nanites already in his hand. As the construct reeled back from its failed charge against Yang, Zanji was there. The blade sliced through an armored leg joint, not with brute force, but with surgical precision. Nestu flared from the edge of the blade, a superheated orange that cauterized and melted as it cut.

"Got runners, left flank!" Uriko’s voice was a calm whisper over the comms, but to her, it was a data stream. The Archer EGO had turned her world into a cascade of predictive analytics. She saw not just the three smaller, faster drones breaking from cover, but the subtle shift in air pressure their thrusters created, the minute flex of their actuators betraying their path.

Her suit conjured her bow, a sleek, recurve design of black nanites. Three arrows were nocked and fired in a single, fluid motion. They weren't just fast; they flew with impossible intelligence. The first arced over a piece of debris, the second banked sharply around a pillar, and the third corkscrewed directly through the lead drone’s energy shield, striking its power core with a sharp hiss. Three blossoms of fire erupted in the coral gloom.

The enemy adapted. A barrage of plasma fire rained down from a ruined overpass.

"Vern!" Zanji yelled out

"Covering!" Vern, Number 6, called out. The Healer EGO pulsed warmly from his core. He didn’t erect a simple barrier; he projected a vast, shimmering barrier of cobalt light. The plasma bolts sizzled against it, their destructive energy neutralized and dissipated by the restorative field. One of the hulking constructs, having seen Zanji, tried to flank him.

Vern’s focus narrowed.

A stream of the same cobalt energy shot from his palm, but this time it was hyper-concentrated, solidifying into a blade of pure thermal light. It sliced cleanly through the construct’s neck, the wound sealing with a flash of restorative energy even as the machine’s head toppled to the ground. A wound healed and a life taken with the same power.

Suddenly, a high-frequency screech filled the air. A new enemy materialized—a floating, dodecahedron-shaped command unit, protected by a crackling, multi-layered energy shield. It was directing the remaining drones with cold efficiency.

"Shield's too dense," Zanji grunted, his katana skittering harmlessly off the barrier. "Alona, can you crack it?"

"Working on something better," Alona, the Number 9, replied. The Mage EGO was a storm inside her, and she was its master. She raised her hands, drawing power not from some arcane well, but from the very fabric of the environment. The air around the command unit began to shimmer with heat haze. "Glacio," she commanded. The temperature plummeted instantaneously. Frost spiderwebbed across the shield, and the air crackled as superheated particles were forced into a state of absolute zero. The shield flickered, brittle and weakened.

"My turn," Merza’s voice hissed, seemingly from everywhere at once. The ghost in the machine, Number 8, was already gone. She didn’t run, she… ceased to be solid. Her form flowed like mercury, pooling on the ground before dissipating into a barely visible vapor. The Outlaw EGO let her laugh at the laws of physics. She drifted through the microscopic fractures in the frost-covered shield, reforming her solid body inside the defensive bubble. A phantom limb, an appendage of pure, incorporeal energy, phased through the drone’s casing and severed its internal power conduit.

The shield collapsed with a dying shriek.

"It’s open!" Uriko confirmed.

"Cain, now!" Yang bellowed.

Cain, Number 10, had been a silent fulcrum of creation. The Artist EGO allowed him to paint on the canvas of reality. Around his feet, the nanite mass of his suit had been swirling and coalescing. At Yang's command, they erupted. Two massive Hell Hounds, forged from black nanites and thermal energy, their jaws glowing with internal fire, lunged forward. They weren't just constructs; they were art given savage purpose. They slammed into the remaining ground drones, tearing them apart with programmed ferocity, clearing the path.

This was the finale. Yang, still glowing with the absorbed energy of that first colossal impact, slammed his fists together. "Take it!" He unleashed the stored kinetic force not as a burst, but as a focused wave, channeling it directly towards Zanji.

Zanji, feeling the wave of kinetic power surge into him, swapped his katana mid-stride for a colossal greatsword. The blade ignited with the full, roaring fury of his Nestu, now amplified by Yang's redirected energy. He swung.

The resulting attack was a cataclysm. A kinetic shockwave married to the Nestu-fueled arc of the greatsword. The blade didn't just cut the command drone; it vaporized the front half, the combined energies disintegrating it on a molecular level.

The last Hell Hound crunched the head of the final, twitching drone.

Silence fell.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the ruined cityscape dissolved. The sterile white walls of the training deck returned. The SLAYERs stood amidst one another once more, their chests heaving, as the armors receded into their respective cores..

From the dais, Eridan's voice came again, devoid of emotion, yet carrying an undeniable weight of approval.

"Analysis: Optimal. Synergy levels exceeding projections. End simulation."

Yang gave a slight, satisfied nod. Zanji cracked his knuckles, a grin playing on his lips. Across the deck, a shared look of lethal understanding passed between them all.

The nanite suits dissolved, their fiery cores winking out of existence. Zanji’s greatsword dematerialized with a faint hiss, leaving him with empty, waiting hands. He rolled his shoulders, the crimson accents on his AIONS suit dimming to a resting black before dissipating.

“Barely broke a sweat,” he declared to the room at large, though his eyes were on Yang. “Though I will admit that kinetic-assist trick of yours has a nice kick to it, old man.”

Yang didn’t rise to the bait, simply deactivating his Knight EGO. The deep hum that had surrounded him ceased, and the oppressive sense of physical immutability vanished, leaving just the solid man in the advanced suit that had faded. “It’s only a trick if it’s unreliable, Zanji.”

“Data confirms,” Uriko said, her gaze distant as she mentally parsed the after-action report streaming into her consciousness. “The technique, codename ‘Kinetic Redirection,’ exceeded damage projections by twelve percent. Energy consumption was… acceptable.”

“My art was astounding, as always,” Cain added quietly, almost to himself. He flexed his fingers, as if still feeling the nanite clay he had just molded. They weren’t just tools to him; they were fleeting masterpieces.

“They were a necessary diversion,” Merza’s voice shimmered beside him, her form coalescing from vapor back into a solid woman. She gave him a rare, thin smile. “Though a bit loud for my tastes.”

A soft blue light pulsed from Vern’s palm as he did a cursory scan of the team. “No system strain, no bio-feedback anomalies. We’re all green.”

The soft hiss of a grav-lift announced Eridan’s descent from the command dais. His polished boots clicked against the sterile white floor, the sound sharp and final in the quiet room. The SLAYERs instinctively straightened, their post-simulation ease evaporating under his analytical gaze.

He stopped before them, his face an unreadable mask. “Protocol: Gehenna’s Maw. Time to completion: seven minutes, forty-two seconds. Parameters met. Hostiles eliminated.” He paused, letting the silence hang. “Well done. It seems you all have begun understanding the Synthesis techniques without me even telling you about them.”

He looked from Alona to Merza. “Synthesis ‘Shatter-Phase.' Alona’s environmental entropy attack created the necessary structural weakness for Merza’s infiltration—a textbook execution. However,” his gaze sharpened on Alona, “your initial energy draw for the rapid temperature drop was 3.7% above optimal. Refine it.”

"Oh...um... I'll work on it..."

Then, Eridan’s eyes fell upon Zanji. “Number 7. Your final strike was decisive. But your opening maneuvers were reckless. You relied too heavily on Number 2’s ability to absorb your mistakes. The Warrior EGO grants you unparalleled combat prowess, not an excuse for showmanship. Precision over raw power. Remember that.”

Zanji’s jaw tightened, but he held his tongue and gave a stiff nod. A reprimand from Eridan was as sharp as his own blade.

"That being said,” Eridan continued, his tone shifting almost imperceptibly, “ You all did exceptionally for your first trial run. I have no doubts you will continue to excel and bring honor to the Shi name. Now, take the time to rest, train, and continue to let your body adapt."

They all paid their respective respects to Number 3, and he returned their gestures in kind. Yang was the last to begin to make his exit, yet was prompted to pause by Eridan.

"Oh, Number 2, while I have you."

Eridan gave a confident smirk as Yang stopped just mere inches from the doorway.

"Hm? What is it, Gamallow?"

He somberly placed his hands in his pockets, awaiting the reason for this delay.

"Please inform Shadowfang that his...gift is ready. He is to meet me here in the height of the full moon tomorrow evening."

Yang found himself with a coy smirk of his own.

"Hmp, I'll be sure to relay the message. See ya around."

He casually waved him off as he left the training room. Eridan turned away as well, leaving behind the stepping stones as his second-to-last project concluded.