My tablet pings with an update, flashing new instructions: Private Training Chamber 12. A one-on-one session. That could mean a lot of things, maybe a real chance to train, or maybe just another way for them to see how far they can push me. Either way, I need to be ready.

  I follow the path laid out on my screen, weaving through the facility’s sterile corridors. The air is thick with an artificial stillness, like everything here is under perfect control. It makes my skin crawl.

  After several minutes, I stop at a sealed doorway labeled "PTC-12" in both human lettering and alien script. A scanner beside the door flickers to life as I step closer.

  "Subject 7249, authorized for individualized power development," an automated voice announces. The door slides open with a low hiss.

  I step inside and immediately take in the space. The chamber is large, its reinforced walls lined with all kinds of specialized equipment, weights, floating drones, targeting dummies. Definitely not a place for casual exercise.

  Standing in the center is someone I recognize, Helena, the older telekinetic woman from my earlier training session. She studies me with calm, assessing eyes, arms crossed like she’s been expecting me.

  "Welcome, Gary," she says with a slight nod. "I've been assigned to help refine your abilities. Your performance this morning caught everyone's attention—including mine." Her tone is unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something in her gaze. Interest? Approval? Hard to tell.

  She gestures toward the center of the room. "Let’s see what you’re truly capable of when you’re not holding back."

  Helena watches carefully as I take position in the center of the chamber. The private training room is larger than it first appeared, with various mechanisms built into the walls that can likely generate different testing scenarios.

  "Show me your current limits," Helena instructs, activating a console that brings several metal objects of varying sizes into the training area.

  I nod and extend my hands. The objects rise simultaneously, this time with slightly more control than in the group session, but I deliberately hold back, keeping my full capabilities hidden. No point in putting all my cards on the table when I still don’t know the rules of this game. They hover and begin to orbit around me in complex patterns, occasionally intersecting without collision.

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  Helena observes with an analytical eye. "Good control, but I can tell you're still restraining yourself." Of course, she noticed. I was hoping to blend in more, but clearly, she’s been around long enough to spot someone playing it safe. She doesn’t sound disappointed, rather, intrigued. "That’s wise. The fastest way to burn out here is to show your full hand too early."

  She activates another sequence, and sections of the wall open to reveal combat dummies. "Let’s focus on precision applications. Target vulnerable points on these dummies using minimal force."

  I focus, condensing my telekinetic energy into needle-thin projections, striking the exact points Helena indicates. Each movement is precise and controlled, revealing enough skill to show improvement but not enough to display my true potential.

  "Your fine manipulation is exceptional," Helena notes. "Most telekinetics rely on brute force, but precision is what separates the elite from the average."

  After several more exercises, Helena deactivates the training protocols and steps toward me, her expression thoughtful. I brace myself, this is the part where she either calls me out or gives me an edge. Either way, I need to be ready.

  "I've been here long enough to recognize someone playing the long game," she says quietly. "Smart move. The system here is designed to extract maximum performance, then discard you when you plateau. Those who shoot up too quickly become prime targets in the arena."

  She glances at the observation cameras mounted on the walls. "For the record, Subject 7249 demonstrates above-average telekinetic potential with room for significant development." Then, lowering her voice further, "Off the record, keep holding back. Build your strength in private. The best survivors here aren't the ones who shine brightest—they're the ones who reveal their light only when necessary."

  The training session continues with Helena offering genuine insights into telekinetic control techniques while tacitly allowing me to maintain my facade of limited potential.

  As the session concludes, she hands me a small data chip. "Plug this into your tablet when you're alone in your quarters. It contains meditation techniques specifically designed for telekinetics. They'll help you develop internally without showing external progress too quickly."

  The main door slides open, signaling the end of the training period. I exhale, rolling my shoulders. I’d like to believe Helena’s advice is just friendly guidance, but something tells me she wouldn’t be saying all this if she didn’t have a reason. Either way, I need to figure out my own strategy, before someone else decides it for me.

  "Tomorrow's sponsor observation will be crucial," Helena says formally for the benefit of any listeners. "Remember what we practiced today."