Nick stared at his phone, the notification glowing accusingly in the darkness of his room:

  'Unauthorized access attempt detected on encrypted file: NK_TS_INV.dat.'

  His investment timeline. Someone had tried to access the very file containing his foreknowledge of market shifts—knowledge that would make him wealthy enough to operate independently in the coming years.

  A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. The timing was too precise to be coincidence. First, someone searching his room—leaving behind that faint trace of cologne—and now a direct attempt to breach his digital security.

  Nick sat up, fully alert despite the late hour. His first instinct was to head to the library's computer lab, where he could use a terminal not connected to his personal network to trace the breach attempt. But a glance at his watch confirmed the futility of that plan—1:17 AM. The library had closed hours ago.

  "Damn it," he muttered, running scenarios through his mind with Arlize's tactical precision. The attempt would have left digital traces, but those became harder to follow with each passing hour.

  He needed help. Not just any help—specialized expertise.

  Maggie Zhang. The engineering prodigy whose hacking skills were legendary on campus, though carefully hidden from official notice. In his previous life, Nick had only known her by reputation—a ghost in the digital realm who could access almost any system for the right price. He'd observed her schedule yesterday, but hadn't planned to approach her so soon.

  Plans changed when enemies moved.

  Nick's fingers tapped methodically on his phone, bringing up her student profile in the university directory. Nothing there indicated her special talents, but that was expected. He needed to find her, convince her to help, and do it before whoever was hunting him made their next move.

  Tomorrow. First thing.

  For now, he needed to secure what he could. Nick activated additional encryption protocols on his most sensitive files, creating decoy documents that would ping his phone if accessed. It wasn't perfect, but it would serve as an early warning system.

  Sleep came reluctantly, his mind racing with possibilities. Who was testing his defenses? Jordan? The military student? Someone connected to Matt's family? Or an unknown player he hadn't identified yet?

  As consciousness finally faded, Nick's last thought was that the game had escalated sooner than he'd anticipated. His enemies were already moving against him—which meant he needed to accelerate his plans.

  Saturday morning arrived with leaden skies and a steady drizzle that matched Nick's mood. He'd slept restlessly, waking several times to check his security alerts, but there had been no further breach attempts.

  After a quick workout in his room—keeping the movements basic and controlled, avoiding anything that might trigger the blue energy—Nick showered and headed to the campus tech building. According to his observations yesterday, Maggie typically worked in the advanced engineering lab on Saturday mornings when most students were still recovering from Friday night's parties.

  The tech building smelled of electronics and coffee, nearly deserted apart from a few dedicated graduate students and the occasional professor. Nick made his way to the third floor, where the specialized labs were located, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

  The advanced engineering lab door was propped open with a textbook. Nick paused at the threshold, scanning the room. Workstations lined the walls, most unoccupied. At the far end, a single figure hunched over a custom-built computer setup, surrounded by disassembled electronics. Dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, oversized hoodie, and a focused intensity that seemed to create an invisible barrier around her workspace—this had to be Maggie Zhang.

  Nick approached carefully, taking in details as Arlize would assess a potential ally. Three monitors displayed rapidly scrolling code. A soldering iron sat cooling beside a partly assembled circuit board. Empty energy drink cans formed a small pyramid at the edge of the desk.

  As he drew closer, he noticed something unusual—Maggie was wearing an earpiece and speaking quietly, her voice barely audible.

  "Access point secured. Starting file transfer. Estimated completion: four minutes."

  Nick froze, recognizing the language of a live hack. He'd stumbled into the middle of one of her operations. If he interrupted, she might bolt—or worse, think he was security and destroy evidence.

  Better to wait.

  He retreated to a workstation near the door, pulling out his tablet and pretending to work while keeping Maggie in his peripheral vision. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, expression locked in intense concentration.

  "Download complete. Exiting system. No trace detected." She leaned back slightly, rolling her shoulders. "Files secured. Payment as discussed."

  She pulled the earpiece out and shut down several programs with practiced efficiency, then stretched her arms overhead with a satisfied sigh.

  Nick chose his moment carefully, approaching just as she closed the final application.

  "Impressive work," he said, keeping his voice low and conversational. "Though using the university network for private security consultations might raise questions."

  Maggie's reaction was immediate and precise. In one fluid motion, she turned, closed her laptop, and produced a small taser from her hoodie pocket, all while maintaining a perfectly neutral expression.

  "Campus security?" she asked, eyes calculating as she sized him up.

  "Just another student," Nick replied calmly, showing empty hands. "One with an appreciation for digital skills and discretion."

  She studied his face more carefully, the taser still aimed steadily. Recognition slowly dawned in her eyes, though her defensive posture didn't relax.

  "Wait. You're Nick Valiente," she said, eyes narrowing. "Freshman. Business major. Suddenly top of your classes after being an average student in high school."

  Nick raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed despite himself. "You've done your homework."

  "I make it my business to know unusual patterns," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of an accent he couldn't quite place. "You've triggered several. Including visiting this building yesterday when you have no classes here. You were watching me."

  She was more observant than he'd anticipated. Another miscalculation on his part.

  "I need help," Nick admitted, deciding that partial honesty was his best approach. "Someone tried to breach my encrypted files last night. I need to know who, and I need better security."

  "Why me? There are plenty of computer science students."

  "Because you're not just a student. You're the best. And I'm willing to pay for the best."

  A flicker of interest crossed her face, quickly masked. "What makes you think I'd risk my scholarship for a stranger?"

  "Because whatever you were just doing for your other client wasn't exactly university-approved research," Nick countered, allowing a hint of Arlize's confidence to color his tone. "And because I can offer something beyond money."

  She waited, expression guarded but curious.

  "Information," Nick continued. "About Nexus Virtual Technologies and their neural interface developments. Information that isn't public yet."

  Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the taser. "What do you know about neural interfaces?"

  Nick noticed something in her eyes—not just professional curiosity, but something more personal. A brief flash of intensity that suggested deeper stakes.

  "Enough to know they'll revolutionize computing within two years," Nick replied. "Enough to know certain companies are very interested in keeping early research quiet."

  Maggie's expression remained neutral, but Nick caught the subtle shift in her posture. "My brother worked on early prototypes before his lab mysteriously lost funding," she said, the words measured. "The technology disappeared overnight. Records erased. His research confiscated." She paused. "So yes, I'm familiar with how these companies operate."

  The taser lowered slightly. "How would you have access to that kind of information?"

  "That's part of what I'm protecting," Nick replied. "Help me upgrade my defenses and figure out who's trying to breach my security, and I'll share what I know."

  Another puzzle piece clicked into place. Maggie wasn't just a skilled hacker—she had personal reasons to be interested in neural interface technology. Potential allies were always more reliable when their motivations aligned naturally with your own.

  Maggie was silent for a long moment, weighing options with the same calculating precision she'd shown in her hack. Finally, she tucked the taser away.

  "Tuesday. Four PM. Engineering lab C." She named a smaller, more private lab. "Bring your laptop and whatever device received the breach alert." Her eyes hardened. "And Valiente? If this is some kind of setup, you'll regret it more than I will."

  "Fair enough." Nick stood. "Thank you for your time."

  As he turned to leave, Maggie's voice stopped him. "One question: What file were they trying to access?"

  "Investment data," Nick answered, carefully truthful while omitting the crucial details. "Market predictions."

  Maggie's lips curved in a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Not what I expected. Most people your age have their security breached for far less interesting reasons." She turned back to her work. "Tuesday. Don't be late."

  Nick left the lab, mind racing. The interaction had gone better than he'd hoped, though not exactly as planned. He'd secured her help, but had revealed more than intended. Maggie Zhang was sharper than he'd anticipated—both more observant and more cautious.

  Another variable to track carefully.

  Saturday afternoon stretched before him, an expanse of unstructured time that felt simultaneously liberating and dangerous. Nick knew from his previous life that weekends were when many students lost focus, abandoning their routines in favor of social activities and relaxation. He'd fallen into that trap before, wasting valuable hours that could never be recovered.

  Not this time.

  After a quick lunch in the nearly empty dining hall, Nick returned to his dorm, locking the door securely behind him. His room remained untouched since morning, no trace of unwelcome visitors. Jordan's door across the hall stayed firmly closed—he'd mentioned going home for a "family thing," but Nick wondered if that was true or merely a convenient cover.

  With Tuesday's meeting with Maggie still days away, Nick decided to explore another avenue. Opening his laptop, he navigated to a series of cybersecurity tutorials he'd identified during his information gathering. If someone was targeting his digital security, he needed to understand the battlefield better.

  "Know your enemy, know yourself," he murmured, recalling one of Arlize's favorite battlefield maxims.

  The tutorials began with basic concepts, but Nick found himself absorbing the information at an unprecedented rate. Complex encryption protocols, network security frameworks, penetration testing methodologies—ideas that should have taken weeks to master seemed to click into place within hours.

  As afternoon faded into evening, Nick paused, stretching his stiff shoulders. He'd completed tutorials that the course description suggested would take forty hours of study. Yet he understood everything perfectly, and could recall every detail with crystal clarity.

  This went beyond his natural aptitude or Arlize's strategic thinking. It was as if his mind had been fundamentally rewired, neural pathways optimized for accelerated learning.

  Another gift from his merged existence?

  Nick closed his laptop, considering the implications. If he could learn new skills at this accelerated rate, his potential growth was exponentially greater than he'd calculated. But it also raised questions about what exactly had happened to his consciousness during his rebirth.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  His thoughts turned to the blue energy he'd manifested during yesterday's training. Was there a connection between his enhanced learning capabilities and that impossible power? Only one way to find out.

  Nick glanced at his watch—7:30 PM. The campus gym would be nearly empty on a Saturday evening, especially with the ongoing drizzle keeping most students indoors. Perfect conditions to continue his experiments with Arlize's abilities.

  The athletic complex was as deserted as Nick had hoped, just a skeleton crew of student employees manning the front desk. He made his way to the same training room he'd used yesterday, finding it unoccupied. Locking the door behind him, Nick moved to the center of the mat, centered his breathing, and began.

  This time, he didn't attempt the combat sequences immediately. Instead, he started with the meditative forms Arlize had practiced before battles—slow, deliberate movements designed to harmonize body and mind, to make the warrior a conduit for something greater than physical strength alone.

  Each position flowed into the next with liquid precision. Palm up, palm down. Weight shifting from front foot to back. Arms extending, then circling inward. Breathing synchronized with movement—four counts in, hold for seven, out for eight.

  An hour passed, then two. Sweat soaked Nick's t-shirt, muscles burning with the effort of holding positions with perfect stillness before transitioning to the next form. Still, no blue glow appeared, no surge of impossible energy.

  Frustration began to creep in, disrupting his focus. Perhaps yesterday had been a fluke, a trick of light combined with an overactive imagination fueled by Arlize's memories.

  "One more sequence," Nick muttered to himself, centering his stance.

  He closed his eyes, reaching deeper into Arlize's memories. Not the training forms he'd been practicing, but something older, more fundamental. The first lessons Arlize had received from Master Elian, before combat was ever introduced.

  The memory surfaced with startling clarity:

  A younger Arlize stood barefoot on smooth stone, deep within a mountain sanctuary. Master Elian circled him, voice low and rhythmic.

  "The body is merely a vessel. Power flows not from muscle, but from harmony. Not from force, but from alignment with the universal current."

  "I don't understand, Master," Arlize replied, frustration evident.

  "You seek to control. Instead, become a conduit. Do not reach for power—invite it to flow through you."

  The instruction shifted something in Nick's understanding. He'd been approaching this wrong, trying to force the manifestation through physical exertion and concentration. That wasn't how Arlize had unlocked his abilities initially.

  Nick settled into a simple standing posture, feet shoulder-width apart, arms relaxed at his sides. He breathed deeply, centering his awareness not on what he wanted to achieve, but on opening himself to what already existed within and around him.

  Something shifted—not in his body, but in his perception. The training room seemed to fade at the edges, his consciousness expanding beyond physical boundaries. He felt a subtle vibration, a humming energy that permeated everything—the air, the floor beneath his feet, his own cells.

  The world dissolved, replaced by a vivid battlefield:

  Arlize stood alone, a fresh recruit not yet twenty, separated from his unit during his first real combat. Enemy soldiers approached through the morning mist, at least six against one. His training sword felt inadequate, his armor too heavy, his legs weak with fear.

  "I'm going to die here," he thought, gripping his sword with trembling hands.

  Time seemed to slow. In that moment of pure vulnerability, of absolute acceptance of his mortality, Arlize felt something unlock within him—a reservoir of energy he hadn't known existed. It wasn't a desperate surge of survival instinct, but a calm recognition of connection to something vast and ancient.

  His fear dissolved, replaced by clarity. As the first attacker charged, Arlize moved without thinking, body responding with impossible precision. Blue light traced his movements, extending the reach of his blade, strengthening his strikes, quickening his reflexes.

  When his commander found him minutes later, Arlize stood unharmed amid six fallen enemies, blue light still shimmering around his hands, his expression one of wonder rather than triumph.

  Nick gasped as the vision receded, finding himself on his knees on the training mat. His entire body hummed with energy, a soft blue luminescence outlining his form. Not just his hands this time—the energy enveloped him completely, casting the room in ethereal light.

  Unlike yesterday's brief flash, this manifestation held steady, responding to his breathing. As he exhaled, the glow intensified slightly; as he inhaled, it stabilized and centered.

  "Not magic," Nick whispered, echoing Arlize's words from the battlefield memory. "Something far older."

  He raised one hand, watching the energy flow like liquid light across his fingers. It didn't feel foreign or invasive—it felt like a natural extension of himself, a capacity that had always existed but remained dormant until now.

  With careful focus, Nick directed the energy to concentrate in his right hand. The blue light responded, gathering into his palm until it formed a small, pulsing sphere of pure energy. Not quite solid, not quite liquid—something between states of matter.

  The blue sphere pulsed in Nick's palm, responding to his will, beautiful and terrifying in its implications. He attempted to expand it, pushing more energy into the manifestation. The sphere grew brighter, larger—

  Then pain shot through him, a burning sensation that raced up his arm and exploded behind his eyes. The sphere dissolved instantly as Nick doubled over, gasping. His vision swam with black spots, and a thin trickle of blood ran from his nose, dropping onto the training mat.

  "Limits," he muttered, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. "Even Arlize had limits."

  A memory surfaced—Arlize collapsing after a major battle, bedridden for days after channeling too much aether at once. The body was a vessel, but vessels could crack under too much pressure. Power always demanded payment, and this power clearly extracted its toll in physical energy.

  Nick made a mental note: practice small manifestations first. Build capacity gradually. Learn the boundaries before pushing them. The last thing he needed was to collapse from magical exhaustion in the middle of a critical moment.

  The sight was both exhilarating and terrifying. This wasn't just enhanced awareness or muscle memory. This was something that defied the physical laws of this world—tangible evidence that his connection to Arlize went far beyond shared memories.

  As realization dawned, Nick's concentration wavered, and the remaining glow receded back into his skin until it vanished completely. Exhaustion crashed over him suddenly, as if he'd run a marathon. His limbs felt leaden, his mind foggy.

  He needed to process this, to understand the implications. If he could manifest Arlize's abilities in this world, what were the limits? What was the cost? And most importantly, how could he control it reliably?

  Nick managed to drag himself back to his dorm, barely remembering to shower before collapsing onto his bed. His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was that he needed to establish a proper term for the energy. "Blue glow" was inadequate for something so profound.

  Mana. The word surfaced from somewhere in his combined consciousness. In Arlize's world, they had called it aether, but mana seemed to fit better here—a bridge between worlds, between science and something beyond.

  As Nick drifted into exhausted sleep, blue light flickered briefly beneath his skin before fading completely.

  Sunday morning—the only day Nick allowed himself to sleep past sunrise. His body clearly needed the recovery time after last night's breakthrough. When he finally opened his eyes, the digital clock on his nightstand read 9:47 AM.

  He lay still for several minutes, taking inventory. Physically, he felt drained but intact, muscles aching in a way that went deeper than normal exercise fatigue. Mentally, he felt sharper somehow, as if the manifestation of mana had cleared pathways in his consciousness.

  The vibration of his phone interrupted his assessment. An unknown number. Nick hesitated, then answered.

  "Valiente." Maggie's voice came through, clipped and businesslike. "I've been analyzing the security protocols on the university's system. Tuesday's too long to wait. Whoever tried to access your files used advanced methods that suggest professional capabilities."

  Nick sat up, instantly alert. "You've looked into it already?"

  "You presented an interesting problem. I get bored easily." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "I can't meet until Tuesday—I'm off-campus until then—but secure your system with this."

  His phone chimed with an incoming file.

  "It's a custom security patch," Maggie continued. "Install it exactly according to the instructions. It won't stop a determined professional, but it will buy you time and log any further attempts with more detail than your current setup."

  "Thank you," Nick said, genuinely surprised by her initiative. "I appreciate this."

  "Don't thank me yet. We still don't know who's targeting you or why." A pause. "What exactly is in those market predictions that's worth this level of interest?"

  Nick chose his words carefully. "Connections between emerging technologies and specific companies positioned to benefit from them. Nothing illegal, just well-researched forecasting."

  "Hmm." Maggie sounded skeptical but didn't press. "Install the patch. I'll see you Tuesday."

  The call ended abruptly. Nick immediately followed her instructions, installing the security patch. It was elegantly designed, far more sophisticated than commercial security software. Clearly Maggie's skills lived up to her reputation.

  With his digital security temporarily reinforced, Nick turned his attention to his scheduled study session with Jordan. They'd agreed to meet at noon in the library study rooms to prepare for Monday's calculus quiz.

  Nick grabbed his backpack and headed across the hall, knocking on Jordan's door. No answer. He checked his phone—no messages canceling their plans. After knocking once more, Nick slipped a note under Jordan's door reminding him of their meeting, then headed to the library.

  The Sunday morning quiet of the library provided perfect conditions for review. Nick claimed a small study room, spreading out his materials with his usual methodical precision. As he worked through practice problems, part of his mind remained on yesterday's breakthrough with the mana manifestation, analyzing the experience from multiple angles.

  What were the practical applications? Enhanced strength and speed, certainly, if his glimpse of Arlize's battlefield performance was any indication. But there had to be more—the ability to form that sphere of energy suggested possibilities beyond physical enhancement.

  His concentration was interrupted when the study room door opened abruptly. Jordan stood there, slightly out of breath, his usual casual demeanor replaced by an almost imperceptible tension.

  "Sorry I'm late, man," he said, dropping his backpack on the table. "Got caught up with some stuff."

  Nick noticed immediately—Jordan's knuckles were bruised, the skin raw and slightly swollen. Not fresh injuries, but recent.

  "No problem," Nick replied easily. "Just going through the integration techniques Professor Ellis covered on Wednesday."

  Jordan sat down, wincing slightly as he flexed his hands. "Great. I definitely need to review those."

  Nick pushed a worksheet across the table. "So how was Alpha Phi? Must have been quite the party from what I heard."

  The casual probe was calculated—Nick hadn't gone to the party, but he knew from his previous timeline that a fight had broken out there. With Jordan's bruised knuckles, he was fishing for information that might connect the dots.

  Jordan's eyes flicked up, a flash of wariness quickly replaced by his usual laid-back expression. "Yeah, I didn't make it. Had some stuff to take care of."

  "I heard things got pretty wild," Nick continued, keeping his tone casual while watching Jordan's reaction closely. "Someone said there was a fight in the back yard—campus security got called in."

  "Yeah, heard about that," Jordan shrugged, but his body language had shifted—subtly more guarded, shoulders tenser. "Glad I missed it. That kind of drama isn't really my thing."

  During a lull in their study session, Jordan reached for his water bottle and winced slightly, the movement clearly aggravating his injured hand.

  "You should ice that," Nick commented casually. "Looks painful."

  Something flickered across Jordan's face—not the calculated deflection Nick had come to expect, but genuine conflict, as if debating how much to reveal.

  "Yeah, it was stupid," Jordan finally said, examining his knuckles with a grimace that seemed authentic. "Some drunk guy at my sister's dorm wouldn't take no for an answer." He glanced up, meeting Nick's eyes directly. "Family, you know? Couldn't just walk away."

  The statement held an undercurrent of truth that surprised Nick. Either Jordan was seamlessly weaving fact with fiction—a technique Arlize had seen master spies employ—or there were genuine elements to his carefully constructed persona. Both possibilities were equally dangerous.

  Nick nodded, pretending to accept the explanation. This story about a confrontation at his sister's dorm conveniently explained his bruised knuckles. His story about defending his sister could technically qualify as the "family thing" he'd mentioned, but something felt off. Jordan had never mentioned having a sister before—let alone one in college. The little details that didn't quite add up were forming a pattern that were raising Nick's suspicions.

  "So," Nick changed the subject, "these integration techniques. Professor Ellis hinted they'd feature prominently on tomorrow's quiz."

  They worked steadily for the next hour, Jordan gradually relaxing as the focus remained on calculus. But Nick's awareness of the discrepancies remained sharp. Jordan's mysterious activities, his bruised knuckles, his careful deflections—all suggested his "friendly dorm neighbor" persona might be exactly that: a persona.

  When they finished reviewing, Jordan gathered his materials with careful movements that suggested soreness beyond just his hands.

  "Thanks for sticking around," he said, zipping up his backpack. "Definitely feeling better about that quiz tomorrow now."

  "That's what study partners are for," Nick replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "By the way, did you manage to take care of that family thing yesterday?"

  The question was deliberately targeted—a test to see if Jordan would maintain his previous story.

  A flicker of hesitation, nearly imperceptible. "Yeah, it was fine. Just some boring family business. Nothing exciting."

  Nick nodded, filing away another confirmed inconsistency. "See you tomorrow in class, then."

  As Jordan left, Nick remained seated, mind working through implications. Jordan had clearly been involved in something physical—likely within the last day or two, given the state of his knuckles. But why lie about it? And was it connected to the attempt to breach Nick's files?

  Too many questions, not enough data. But the pieces were starting to form patterns. The military student in Statistics class. Jordan's inconsistent stories and suspicious timing. The professional-level attempt to breach his security.

  Nick packed up his materials, determination hardening his resolve. Tuesday's meeting with Maggie couldn't come soon enough. If someone was watching him this closely already, he needed to accelerate his plans.

  Events were unfolding faster than anticipated. And beneath the surface of his calculated moves, the newly awakened mana pulsed with potential, waiting to be fully understood and harnessed.

  Nick glanced at his reflection in the library window as he left, half-expecting to see blue light shimmering beneath his skin. Nothing visible—but he could feel it now, a constant subtle awareness of energy flowing through him, waiting to be called forth.

  As he crossed the quiet campus, Nick felt the strange duality of his situation. On one side, unknown enemies probing his defenses, seeking information he shouldn't possess. On the other, a power growing within him that they couldn't possibly anticipate—a weapon from another world entirely.

  For the first time since his rebirth, Nick felt not just prepared, but dangerous. His enemies thought they were tracking a college freshman. They had no idea who or what they were truly hunting.

  The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he felt the mana respond just beneath the surface of his skin—his silent advantage in a conflict his opponents didn't yet realize had begun.