NOVEL NEXT Chapter 27 - Identity Divided
Nick jolted awake at 4:53 AM, seven minutes before the wake-up call. His body had adapted to the compound's rhythms. The room was dark, the jungle beyond alive with the chatter of waking birds and the hum of insects.
He sat up, wincing as his muscles protested. Yesterday's instruction showed his capabilities were lacking. Today, closing the gap between where he was and where he needed to be would begin.
Nick assessed himself: bruised ribs from Val's Aurilian takedown, a strained shoulder from channeling too much mana, and a lingering headache from resisting Arlize's memories. His body felt like it had been dismantled and poorly reassembled.
I feel like someone just ran me over with a truck.
A knock came at exactly 5:00 AM, two sharp raps conveying Val's impatience.
Fuck! I'm not ready!
"Five minutes to the training grounds," she said when Nick opened the door. Without waiting for a response, she headed to Maggie's door.
Nick dressed quickly in the clothes Marcus' team provided—lightweight, moisture-wicking, with reinforcement at the joints. The fabric adjusted to his body temperature, warming against the morning chill.
He arrived at the training grounds with thirty seconds to spare, finding Jordan already there, stretching with precision. Despite the early hour, Jordan's eyes were clear and focused.
How is he even awake right now?
Maggie shuffled in ten seconds after Nick, dark circles under her eyes suggesting she'd worked most of the night. Her fingers twitched slightly.
"Get enough coffee this morning?" Nick asked quietly.
Maggie shot him an annoyed look. "Don't talk to me; I can't be civil to you this early."
Before Nick could retort, Marcus emerged from the shadows of the training pavilion, with Val, Master Hernandez, and Dr. Velez following behind him.
"Yesterday, we identified your true baseline capabilities when you're pushing yourself all out," Marcus began. "Today, your transformation begins. We have thirteen days to turn your potential into functional ability for an institution that eliminates thirty-seven percent of its students through washout or death."
As Nick and the others listened, Marcus continued, "Your schedule maximizes integration across all domains. Mornings focus on physical conditioning and combat fundamentals. Afternoons develop your specializations. Evenings address psychological and emotional barriers." His gaze lingered on Nick. "The difference between raw talent and functional skill is integration—mind, body, and spirit working in harmony."
Without further ceremony, they separated. Jordan followed Hernandez to the eastern field, Maggie went with Dr. Velez to the technical labs, and Nick faced Val in the central combat arena.
"Defensive stance," Val ordered, circling with predatory grace. "Show me what you learned yesterday."
Nick settled into the basic stance Francisco had shown him—weight centered, knees bent, hands positioned to channel mana. He'd seen it in Arlize's memories, but imitating it felt nothing like using it instinctively.
Val's eyes narrowed, assessing every flaw. "Your weight distribution is off. Your guard is too rigid. Your mana channels are tense."
Before Nick could adjust, Val moved—a blur of aggression. Her first strike slipped past his guard, stopping a hairsbreadth from his throat.
"Dead," she said flatly. "Again."
Nick reset his stance, trying to incorporate her corrections. This time, Val's attack came from a different angle—a sweeping kick aimed to unbalance him. He shifted in time to avoid falling but ended up off-balance and vulnerable.
Val's palm struck his chest, sending him staggering back three steps.
"Dead," she repeated. "Again."
The pattern continued for ninety excruciating minutes. Stand up. Defend. Fail. Receive correction. Repeat. Each attempt ended with Nick on the ground, thoroughly outmatched by Val's superior technique.
"You're fighting your own body," she said, standing over him after a particularly effective takedown. "Your mind remembers, but your body can't keep up. That's why you're training without your system. You need to own these movements." She pulled him up.
"I'm trying," Nick gasped, tasting copper from his bitten cheek.
"That's the problem," Val said unsympathetically. "You can't try to be what you already are. Your mind holds the memories of an elite Aurilian combat master. Instead of using that knowledge, you resist it—fighting yourself more than me."
She gestured to Francisco. "A demonstration might help."
Francisco stepped forward, his movements defying his age. "Nicolás, attack with full intent. Don't hold back."
Nick hesitated, unwilling to use full force against his abuelo.
Francisco's expression hardened. "This reluctance is part of your problem. You hold back, second-guess, question your instincts. In combat, hesitation is death."
Stung, Nick launched into a combination he'd practiced—a jab followed by a roundhouse kick. Francisco didn't dodge or block. He simply flowed around the attacks, redirecting Nick's momentum against him. One moment, Nick was pressing forward; the next, he was flat on his back.
"That was the Aurilian Wave-Form Defense," Francisco explained, helping Nick up. "Arlize mastered it at seventeen. Your mind knows it, but your body refuses to access the knowledge."
"It doesn't feel like my knowledge," Nick admitted, rolling his sore shoulder. "It feels like I'm stealing someone else's memories."
Val and Francisco exchanged a glance that Nick couldn't decipher.
"Maybe we're approaching this wrong," Val said, moving to the arena's center. "The knowledge is there; we just need to force it out." A nasty smile curved her lips. "Attack me again. But this time..."
Her hands glowed with concentrated mana, violet energy crackling around her fingers.
"...I won't hold back."
Nick's eyes widened. This wasn't practice anymore. The energy surrounding Val's hands could cause real harm.
"Val," Francisco cautioned, "we agreed—"
"He needs to break the mental barrier," Val interrupted. "Pain teaches when logic fails. Didn't you say that earlier?"
Without warning, she launched energy bolts at Nick. These weren't training strikes—they were combat arts meant to incapacitate.
Survival instinct took over. Nick's body moved before his mind could catch up, performing defensive maneuvers he hadn't consciously learned. His hands traced patterns that disrupted Val's attacks. The mana bolts fizzled around him, their energy dispersed by his counter-signature.
For seven seconds, Nick wasn't fighting Arlize's influence—he acted with two lifetimes of combat experience in perfect harmony.
Then his conscious mind caught up. Realizing he was using Arlize's techniques, the connection fractured. His movements faltered, and a mana bolt hit his shoulder, spinning him before he crashed onto the mat.
What the...what was that? Nick's mind completely blanked.
The pain was intense, burning from the impact down his arm. Not enough for permanent damage, but enough to ensure the lesson stuck.
I'm going to die. If this keeps up, she'll actually kill me.
Nick briefly considered telling Marcus and his abuelo to shove it and heading back to Westlake. But reason prevailed, and he began to meditate: four breaths in, hold for seven, eight breaths out.
Val stood over him, her expression unchanged. "That," she said with cold detachment, "is what happens when you stop fighting yourself."
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Francisco helped Nick up, carefully examining the injury. "The strike avoided major mana channels. It will heal cleanly." Nick shot him an irritated look. Not comforting, Abuelo.
Missing Nick's glare, Francisco turned to Val. "Perhaps a warning next time."
"Warnings breed preparation," Val replied flatly. "Preparation becomes overthinking. Overthinking reinforces his barriers." She focused directly on Nick. "You defended against five Class Two mana strikes using Advanced Aurilian Disruption Forms—techniques that require years of training. Your body knows how to survive. Your mind needs to step aside."
Nick nodded, silently repeating to himself: Just don't get hit.
Just don't get hit. Just don't get hit. Just don't get hit.
The morning continued in the same pattern—brief moments of integration where instinct overrode resistance, followed by fracture when Nick's conscious mind seized control again. By lunch, he had collected an impressive array of bruises, scrapes, and mana burns.
The dining hall offered welcome respite. Lunch was simple but purposeful—a hearty stew with roots and herbs, fresh warm bread, and tea that glowed with a blue light. Nick recognized some ingredients from memories before the shutout. The tea's mana-conductive properties were already accelerating his healing.
After a few bites of bread, his physical discomfort began to fade. The meal was actively repairing his muscles and restoring energy, but his mind remained a battlefield of conflicting impulses and frustrations.
Jordan entered the dining hall after Nick, moving stiffly and nursing multiple injuries. A dark bruise bloomed under his right eye, and he cradled his left arm protectively against his ribs.
"Hernandez?" Nick nodded toward Jordan's injuries.
"Believes in practical demonstration," Jordan said, wincing as he lowered himself into a seat. "Says if we can't handle training impacts, we won't survive real breaches." He eyed Nick's collection of bruises and burns. "Val thinks the same, huh?"
"They're pushing us to our limits," Nick observed, "then expecting us to rebuild stronger."
"Classic special forces method," Jordan noted, his military background showing. "Break down the individual, then rebuild them." He sipped the luminescent tea. "What are they building us into?"
Maggie joined them, her hands wrapped in gauze, fingertips red with mana burns. She moved painfully despite her attempts to hide it.
"How was training?" Nick asked, eyeing her injuries.
"Dr. Velez has me interfacing with mana-reactive components," Maggie said, struggling with her spoon. "It's like coding with your hands in an electrical socket. My neural pathways can't handle the input without the feedback."
"The meals help," Jordan noted, nodding at Maggie's untouched food. "They seem to heal us."
Maggie frowned at her bowl. "More Arcadian tech?"
"I think it's Aurilian," Nick corrected, drawing on Arlize's knowledge. "The blue glow in the tea comes from the Lunar Cascade flower—used by Aurilian battle-mages for recovery. The stew has at least six medicinal roots I recognize."
His companions stared at him.
Why are they looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong...oh.
Nick realized he'd spoken with Arlize's authoritative tone instead of his usual voice. The knowledge had flowed naturally, without his usual conscious barrier.
Before either could comment, Francisco entered the dining hall, gesturing for Nick to follow. "Your afternoon session begins now, Nicolás."
Nick looked at his plate. He'd eaten most of the bread and soup but hadn't finished his tea.
"Just leave it. You'll eat again after today's training," Francisco said, reading his thoughts.
The mana harmonization chamber contrasted sharply with the combat arena. Hexagonal with polished clear panels, it reflected and amplified energy. The floor featured silver channels in concentric circles, etched with faintly pulsing symbols. At the center stood a stone pedestal with two crystal orbs—one clear, one deep grey.
"Physical training conditions the body," Francisco explained as Nick studied the room, "but your challenge requires internal harmonization. These resonance orbs will visualize the conflict between your natural mana and Arlize's energy."
Nick approached cautiously, feeling the instruments respond. They vibrated, connecting with his dual nature—the clear orb calling to his natural violet energy, the amethyst to Arlize's blue-white signature.
"What do I do?"
"Place one hand on each crystal," Francisco instructed. "Channel your natural mana into the clear orb and Arlize's signature into the gray orb. The orbs will externalize the energies, making their interaction visible and manageable."
Nick positioned himself, one hand on each orb. Initially, nothing happened. The spheres remained cold and inert, resisting his attempts to channel energy.
"Do not force it," Francisco advised. "Intention without tension. Let the energy flow naturally."
Nick exhaled, releasing tension. He visualized his energies as separate streams seeking their proper channels. Gradually, the spheres responded. A small violet flame flickered to life in the clear orb. Across from it, the hematite orb flared with blue-white light, brighter and more intense.
As Nick focused on separating the two streams, their flames intensified until both orbs pulsed with power, casting dancing shadows across the chamber.
"Good," Francisco nodded. "Now, while maintaining both flows, bring the orbs closer."
The challenge was clear. As Nick moved the crystals together, the energies destabilized—repelling like identical magnetic poles. Waves of interference rippled between them, distorting the air.
"Your core is fluctuating instead of fusing," Francisco observed. "You're treating them as competing forces, not complementary ones."
Sweat beaded on Nick's forehead as he struggled to maintain equal energy strength. His arms trembled, not from physical effort but from the mental strain of sustaining the opposing flows.
I'm working on it! he gritted.
The crystals vibrated violently as the flows grew chaotic, creating jagged interference patterns. The silver channels in the floor glowed, attempting to stabilize the wild energies.
"You need to harmonize the frequencies," Francisco urged. "Find the resonant point where they strengthen each other."
Nick closed his eyes, visualizing the energy patterns. He saw his violet energy as willful waves, crashing and receding, while Arlize's blue-white mana moved in tight, disciplined spirals. Both powerful but fundamentally different in structure and rhythm.
How could such different patterns synchronize? They are too different. Arlize and I are just too different.
As these thoughts spiraled, a crack echoed. Nick realized the orbs had shattered. Shards exploded outward, embedding in the walls and Nick. Others fell harmlessly as their energies dissipated.
"That's the fourth set this week," Francisco sighed, without anger. "We'll try again tomorrow with reinforced versions. For now, go see your abuela to clean up."
Nick stared at the shattered mana orbs, a perfect metaphor for his fragmented self. Sheepish and forlorn, he looked at his abuelo, "Are you sure I can combine my powers with Arlize?"
"Yes," Francisco confirmed. "You did it this morning. You showed signs of dual resonance, and even momentary synchronization is promising."
"But not enough," Val added clinically. "The Academy won't wait for you to resolve your conflicts, Nicolás. The void won't either."
"The void?" Nick asked.
Francisco and Val exchanged meaningful glances.
"One challenge at a time," Francisco said, placing a reassuring hand on Nick's shoulder and glaring at Val. "Focus on integration. The rest will follow when you're ready."
The afternoon continued with exercises on visualizing and manipulating his dual mana signature, each ending in failure but with slight improvements in stability and duration. By the session's end, Nick felt mentally exhausted, his mana channels burning and his concentration frayed to threads.
Evening brought a new challenge. While Jordan and Maggie were sent to meditation chambers, Nick went to a sunlit room overlooking the rainforest. Unlike the stark training facilities, this space offered comfortable chairs, shelves of ancient books, and potted plants releasing a calming fragrance.
Maria awaited him, holding a ceramic teapot adorned with intricate patterns. "Sit," she said, gesturing to the chair across from her. "You look like you need tea."
Nick sat gratefully, his body protesting every movement. The chair adjusted to him, providing perfect support.
Maria poured tea into two cups, the steam aromatic with herbs. "Willow-sage and moonflower," she said, handing him a cup. "For the mind, not the body. Your physical injuries are healing, but mental fatigue needs different medicine."
Nick accepted the tea, its aroma unlocking a hazy childhood memory—crying in his grandparents' home, comforted by his abuela with this very same tea.
"Francisco and Val have been pushing you hard," Maria noted, settling back.
"They're trying to merge Arlize and I," Nick confirmed.
With limited success but a constellation of bruises to show for it'.
"Mmm." Maria sipped her tea. "What do you think those barriers protect?"
The question surprised Nick. He'd seen his resistance to Arlize's memories as an obstacle, not protection.
"I don't know," he admitted.
"Perhaps you should," Maria suggested. "The mind builds walls for reasons. Understanding why might help more than tearing them down."
Nick stared into his tea. "I'm afraid of losing myself. If I integrate with Arlize's memories, what remains of me, Nick Valiente? Do I disappear?"
Maria nodded. "And who is Nicholas Valiente without Arlize, your parents, Westlake, or friends? Who are you at your core?"
Nick opened his mouth, then closed it. The question struck deeper than he expected.
"I... I'm not sure I know," he finally admitted.
"That," Maria said with a smile, "is your first real step. Identity isn't fixed but fluid, evolving through experiences and choices."
She leaned forward. "Arlize's memories aren't invading aliens. They're new chapters in your story. The question isn't about domination but what new being emerges from their synthesis."
Nick realized this wasn't a battle for dominance with Arlize—it was a collaboration, a transformation into something greater.
He hesitated, then asked Maria, "What are Francisco and Marcus really planning? The Academy, the training... it feels like there's more."
Maria's eyes twinkled knowingly. "My husband and Marcus have been friends for decades. They've weathered storms you can't imagine."
"That's not an answer, Abuela," Nick pressed.
"No," she smiled. "But some truths must be earned." She patted his hand. "Focus on becoming whole. The rest will reveal itself."
Nick sensed he'd get no more answers today.
"Tomorrow," she continued, "when you train, don't think of accessing Arlize's mana. Think of remembering parts of yourself."
This struck Nick as profound. Not borrowing knowledge, but reclaiming parts of himself.
After leaving Maria's chamber, he had dinner with Maggie and Jordan. Each dish cleverly incorporated their lunch remains. As they left, the sun painted the mountains in gold and crimson. Nick returned to his quarters, body aching, mind churning with new perspectives.
He collapsed onto his bed. Just as his eyes closed, a familiar chime sounded, and the blue interface appeared:
[ARCΛDIΛN SYSTΞM INTERFΛCE – DAILY ASSESSMENT]
Physical Conditioning: +1 Mana Manipulation: +2 Combat Efficiency: +1 Mental Fortitude: +3 Integration Progress: 48.5% (+0.5%)
[Note: The mental barrier remains the main integration obstacle. The emotional processor is engaging during sleep to address resistance.]
[Recommendation: Focus on internal oneness, not forced unification.]
Nick stared at the modest gains, feeling a mixture of disappointment and determination. Half a percent increase in integration—barely measurable progress. At this rate, he'd never reach Tier 2 abilities before Academy enrollment.
Yet, Mental Fortitude showed the largest improvement. Maybe his abuela's session had achieved more than he realized.
As sleep claimed him, Nick dreamed of gardens where blue and violet energies twined around plants growing toward twin suns—neither energy dominating the other, both nurturing something new and beautiful in their collaborative light.