"Up and at 'em, Sunshine! Daylight's wasting!"

  Maron's voice, followed by three sharp knocks that seemed deliberately calibrated for maximum irritation, dragged Solaris from the most restful sleep he'd experienced in weeks. He opened his eyes to find the bedroom empty, though the lingering, faint scent of something like flowers confirmed he hadn't dreamed Eli's nocturnal visit.

  Groaning, he checked the bedside clock: 4:45 AM. The ex-Delta operator was early for his own ungodly scheduled training.

  "Two minutes or I start without you!" Maron called through the door before his footsteps retreated across the porch.

  Solaris dressed quickly in the workout clothes that had mysteriously appeared in his dresser overnight—high-quality tactical pants, moisture-wicking shirt, and a heavy sweater that seemed oddly substantial for the mild morning. When he lifted it, he understood—the garment contained carefully distributed weights totaling approximately fifty pounds, yet looked completely ordinary.

  "Wonderful," he muttered, pulling it over his head. The immediate pressure across his shoulders and back confirmed Eli's prediction from the night before.

  Outside, the pre-dawn air carried a crispness that immediately cleared any remaining cobwebs from his mind. Maron stood in the clearing between cabins, performing what appeared to be a complex series of stretches with fluid precision that belied his fifty-four years.

  "Fourteen seconds to spare," the older man noted without looking up. "Better than expected."

  "I aim to please," Solaris replied, adjusting to the weighted sweater.

  "No, you don't," Maron countered, completing his routine and finally turning to assess his trainee. "You aim to survive. Big difference." He approached, tugging at the weighted sweater to check its fit. "This stays on unless I say otherwise. No ‘balance owed,’ ‘grassy toad,’ ‘alice mode’ nonsense during training without explicit permission. We build your baseline first, enhancements later."

  "Understood," Solaris nodded, recognizing the methodology behind the approach. Enhanced capabilities built upon human-‘ish’ limitations would create more effective overall results than relying solely on supernatural abilities.

  "Five-mile run to start," Maron announced, already moving toward a trail that disappeared into the forest. "Try to keep up."

  “Miles, uuuh…” Solaris started, scratching his head. “What’s the conversion rate again between…?”

  “Dear God boy you better you start prayin’…” Maron grumbled, disappearing into the forest.

  What followed was the most physically demanding morning of Solaris's life—including his weeks on the run with Vander and Alice. The five-mile run turned out to be just the warm-up, followed by strength training using logs and rocks, obstacle courses that appeared randomly placed but revealed deliberate tactical challenges upon closer inspection, and hand-to-hand combat training that left Solaris flat on his ass more times than he could count.

  "Your reflexes are good," Maron acknowledged after flipping him for the seventh time. "But you telegraph your intentions through micro-expressions. In a real fight, that’ll get you killed once. And that’s all you get—once. What’re you gonna do for the humans of Earth when you’re dead, Sunshine?"

  By midday, every muscle in Solaris's body screamed for relief despite his heightened baseline, and the weighted sweater felt more like five hundred pounds than fifty. Yet he found himself enjoying the challenge. There was something honest about physical exertion that clarified the mind in ways meditation never quite achieved for him.

  "Not bad for day one," Maron conceded as they stopped by a mountain stream to rehydrate. "You've got decent potential for a civilian."

  "High praise," Solaris replied, remembering Eli's words from the night before.

  "Statement of fact," Maron corrected, though the corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. "Your technical knowledge needs work, but your adaptability is exceptional. Comes from being on the run, I expect."

  "Vander was a demanding teacher," Solaris acknowledged, taking a long drink from his canteen.

  "He would be," Maron nodded. "Guardians understand that survival requires more than just ‘love and light.’"

  As they rested briefly, Solaris found his gaze drawn to a shadowed area between two massive pines approximately fifty meters distant. Something about the space felt... wrong somehow, though he couldn't immediately identify why.

  "See something?" Maron asked, his casual tone belied by the sudden alertness in his posture.

  "Not sure," Solaris admitted. "Just a feeling."

  Maron's eyes narrowed as he scanned the area Solaris had been studying. "Trust those feelings. They're usually your subconscious processing information your conscious mind hasn't caught up to yet.It's called the paralogical."

  Before Solaris could respond, Maron was already rising to his feet. "Break's over. Let's move."

  The afternoon brought more varied training—equipment familiarization with Maron's impressive arsenal ("Knowledge and communication, not application, unless absolutely necessary," the ex-Delta operator emphasized), communications protocols, emergency procedures, and finally, a comprehensive tour of the compound itself.

  The underground facilities accessed through the "root cellar" proved extensive—multiple levels extending into the mountain, containing everything from medical facilities to long-term food storage to a remarkably sophisticated communications center shielded from both conventional and supernatural surveillance.

  "Faraday cage surrounding the entire level," Maron explained as they entered the communications hub. "Blocks electromagnetic frequencies across the spectrum. Higher dimensional shielding built into the mountain itself."

  "You knew about higher dimensions before the Phoenix Ascension activated," Solaris observed, studying the complex array of equipment that combined cutting-edge technology with what appeared to be deliberately archaic components.

  "Knew enough to prepare," Maron corrected. "Didn't have the terminology or context until Kira manifested after the system activated. But I've been... aware of things beyond conventional reality most of my life."

  "Your Oversoul guiding you?"

  "Call it that if you want," Maron shrugged. "I called it tactical intuition. Saved my team's lives more times than I can count."

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  As Maron demonstrated the various systems and protocols, Solaris noticed the older man maintained a specific physical distance throughout their interactions—close enough for practical instruction but carefully calibrated to prevent any accidental contact. The behavior suggested both military precision and something deeper—an ingrained caution born of hard experience.

  "Kennedy's forces have established three primary operational zones since Ereshkigal... got her shit kicked in," Maron explained, indicating points on a digital map. "Their command structure is fragmenting without direct Anunnaki oversight, but that makes them more unpredictable, not less dangerous."

  "The remaining Anunnaki Council members haven't intervened?" Solaris asked.

  "Intelligence suggests they're divided on how to proceed," Maron replied. "Some apparently want to continue the Phoenix Ascension system as designed; others view this cycle as compromised beyond recovery. Their infighting gives us operational breathing room, but it won't last indefinitely."

  As evening approached, they returned to the surface where Eleanor and Eli waited on the main house porch. Eleanor sat in a comfortable chair, apparently knitting something complex while reviewing data on a tablet balanced beside her. Eli leaned against the railing, her expression brightening as they emerged from the root cellar entrance.

  Eli was dressed in a soft, oversized cream-colored sweater with sleeves that covered her hands, paired with fitted white leggings and fuzzy slipper boots. She'd wrapped a chunky knitted scarf loosely around her neck, the earthy tones complementing her blonde hair, which was pulled into a messy bun. The entire ensemble made her look perfectly huggable, radiating cozy warmth against the mountain chill.

  As their eyes met across the yard, her voice suddenly appeared in his mind: Welcome back. Learn anything interesting down there?

  Solaris nearly stumbled at the unexpected telepathic contact. This was the first time in recent memory—perhaps ever—they'd communicated this way. The sensation was familiar yet entirely different from his mental connection with Alice. Where Alice's presence had been like cool water flowing through his thoughts, Eli's energy was like a harmless mini-sun in his mind, radiating information that transformed effortlessly into words, ideas, and emotions—sometimes all simultaneously.

  Bro’s got the whole kit and caboodle, he replied, surprised at how naturally the response came.

  He'd almost forgotten how much more bandwidth telepathy offered compared to verbal communication—the layered meanings, the emotional context, the pure efficiency of thought-to-thought exchange without the limitations of speech and body language. In a single moment, he could convey his admiration for Maron's work, his appreciation for Eli's presence, and his growing understanding of their shared mission, all wrapped in the warmth of their connection. But, despite telepathy being efficient and useful, conventional verbal and non-verbal communication still had their place.

  "Survived day one, I see," she called to Solaris, her eyes twinkling with amusement at his clearly exhausted state.

  "Barely," he admitted, climbing the steps to join her.

  "He did adequately," Maron assessed, which Solaris was beginning to recognize as significant praise from the taciturn ex-soldier.

  "Dinner in thirty minutes," Eleanor announced without looking up from her work. "You boys have time to clean up. You both reek of testosterone and mountain air."

  "It's called the smell of honest work, Eleanor," Maron retorted, though without heat.

  "It's called body odor, dear," she replied serenely. "And it's banished from my dining table."

  As Solaris headed toward his cabin to shower, he felt Eli fall into step beside him. "You did well today," she said quietly. "Maron doesn't say it, but he's genuinely impressed with your adaptability."

  "From the frying pan into the fire," Solaris said. "Except I'm actually enjoying it, despite feeling like I've been hit by truck-kun again."

  "The physical training grounds your enhanced abilities," Eli explained.

  "Makes sense," Solaris nodded. "And explains why Vander started our training with basic survival rather than jumping straight to cosmic energy manipulation."

  They reached his cabin, where Eli paused at the door. "Get cleaned up. I'll see you at dinner."

  "And maybe after?" Solaris suggested.

  Her smile was answer enough as she turned to head back toward the main house.

  The shower—though conventional in appearance—proved another example of Maron's meticulous attention to detail. The water pressure was perfect, the temperature consistent, and the slightly mineral scent suggested a sophisticated filtration system beyond standard residential setups.

  As Solaris let the hot water soothe his aching muscles, he found his thoughts returning to the strange feeling he'd experienced during their break by the mountain stream. Something about that shadowed area between the pines had triggered his enhanced perception, though whatever had caused it remained elusive.

  Clean and dressed in fresh clothes, he made his way back to the main house where dinner preparations were already underway. The domestic scene struck him as surreal given their cosmic circumstances—Eleanor setting the table with practiced efficiency, Maron checking something in the oven, Eli mixing drinks at a small bar cart.

  "Just in time," Eleanor noted as he entered. "Maron's venison roast is ascension itself."

  "Adequate protein delivery system," Maron corrected, though Solaris caught the ghost of a smile as the older man turned back to the oven.

  Dinner proved not merely adequate but exceptional—perfectly cooked venison with root vegetables from Maron's greenhouse, fresh bread that Eleanor had apparently baked that afternoon, and wine from a cellar Solaris hadn't yet seen during their compound tour.

  "He flipped you seven times?" she asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

  "Eight," Maron corrected before Solaris could respond. "The last one was more of a sweep than a flip, though."

  "I think I invented a few new fighting styles," Solaris admitted ruefully. "Mostly involving landing on my ass in creative ways."

  Even Maron laughed at that—a short, gruff sound that seemed to surprise even himself.

  As the meal concluded, Solaris found himself feeling more at home. Despite Maron's gruffness and the compound's military precision, there was genuine warmth and a sense of purpose shared among people committed to something beyond themselves.

  That night, after returning to his cabin, Solaris waited for Eli to appear as she had the previous evening. True to his expectations, she slipped through his door shortly after midnight, moonlight briefly illuminating her silhouette before she closed it quietly behind her.

  "Maron has you scheduled for some ungodly hour again tomorrow," she whispered, sliding beneath the covers beside him. "You should be sleeping."

  "I'd rather be awake with you," he replied honestly, drawing her close. “Plus, even without transforming, I don’t need that much sleep. And I sleep infinitely better with than without you.”

  Her laugh was soft in the darkness. "Charmer."

  "Truth-teller," he corrected, feeling her settle against him with familiar comfort.

  They lay together in companionable silence for several minutes, Solaris gradually becoming aware of an unusual sensation at the edge of his perception—similar to what he'd experienced during training, but fainter and more diffuse.

  "Do you feel that?" he asked quietly.

  Eli shifted slightly beside him. "What exactly?"

  "I'm not sure," he admitted. "A presence of some kind. I felt it earlier today during training, and now again."

  Her fingers found his in the darkness, squeezing gently. "Your perception is expanding as you adjust to the full integration. You're likely sensing aspects of reality that were previously filtered out."

  "It feels... watchful, though. Not threatening exactly, but definitely observing."

  "The compound is well-protected," Eli reminded him. "Maron's security systems would detect conventional threats, and I'd sense anything from higher dimensions."

  "You're probably right," Solaris conceded, though the sensation remained.

  "Rest now," she encouraged, her fingers finding their way to his scalp where they began a soothing circular motion. "Tomorrow brings another day of Maron's special brand of love."

  Despite the persistent awareness at the edge of his perception, Solaris found himself relaxing under her touch, the events of the day catching up with him as exhaustion gradually overcame vigilance.

  "I missed this," he murmured as sleep began to claim him. "I missed you."

  "I know," Eli whispered. "I missed you too. But I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

  With that reassurance warming him more effectively than any blanket, Solaris surrendered to sleep, Eli's presence beside him a silent promise that whatever challenges the coming days might bring, they would face them together—as they had across countless dimensions and would continue to do for countless more.

  Outside the cabin, beneath the silver moonlight, something shifted briefly in the shadows between two distant pines—a momentary disturbance in the air that might have been merely a breeze passing through branches or perhaps something watching, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

  The night settled into quiet, broken only by the occasional call of an owl and the whisper of wind through mountain pine.