Lord of the Avatars

From Kairo's Perspective

The morning sun had barely crested the jagged skyline when the recruitment center's alarms buzzed to life once more. Another day in the new world, and the government's machinery continued its grind, registering awakeners by the hundreds.

Lines formed early. Sleepless, wide-eyed people stood in queues that wrapped around buildings, each person clutching onto hope or dread for the talents hidden within them. Some came eager, praying for greatness. Others were dragged in, terrified of what change might mean.

Behind the white tents and concrete barricades, beyond the walls patrolled by drones and high-ranking soldiers, rumors had begun to spread like wildfire among the new recruits.

— "They say two people awakened talents at the highest level, SSS." — A soldier with black hair said it while talking with a burly soldier who was standing next to him on guard duty.

— "Impossible. I thought that the highest level was only S." — The burly soldier did not believe in what he just heard.

— "No, I heard it from one of the officers. Their names are on lockdown, but they're being groomed for command by the higher ups." The black-haired soldier cleared away his colleague's doubts.

— "Okay. So do you think they'll be assigned to the elite unit?"

— "Shh! Don't say that too loudly. We're not supposed to know that they even exist for now." — The black-haired soldier was gesturing with his hands in order to end the discussion.

Kairo, sitting cross-legged in a shadowed corner of the training yard, heard everything. He never needed to ask. The soldiers whispered more than they realized, and he was always listening.

SSS-rank talents. That meant individuals on par with Allan's true power, though not close to the whole picture. Still, if the government was cultivating such individuals, it would eventually mean increased militarization… and eventually, confrontation. Which only means that they must've made new discoveries about the new changes brought upon our world.

Kairo opened his eyes, crimson irises gleaming faintly beneath his black bangs. His thoughts drifted not to the rumor, but to the present.

Today's training would be different or so he heard while eavesdropping around the soldiers.

After breakfast, the recruits were marched out to an open field that had been hastily converted into a weapons training ground. Weapon racks lined the perimeter, containing a diverse array of cold weapons - blades, spears, halberds, maces, bows, staves, axes and shields.

— "Today, you will learn to fight without depending solely on your talents," — barked Captain Juno, a grizzled veteran with a talent for kinetic enhancement. — "Magic is something new and we don't know if it will always be available for our use. But steel, steel always cuts when wielded right."

The recruits broke off into groups. Instructors, each a seasoned fighter, began teaching the basics: grip, stance, weight distribution, follow-through. Some stumbled. Others relied too much on raw strength or flashy techniques and a few of them managed pretty well, but Kairo…

Kairo moved like water.

He began with a longsword. He picked it up slowly, analyzing its balance, its material, the length of its edge. Then he moved, fluid, precise, efficient. His strikes were minimalistic, yet carried weight and speed that seemed to exceed what his talent rank implied.

Then he switched to a spear. His motions changed, more thrusts, pivots, extended reach. He adjusted his stance instantly, finding the perfect distance with uncanny awareness.

A mace.

An axe.

Twin daggers.

A shield.

A bow.

Each time, the instructors watched in stunned silence as Kairo adapted in seconds, his body molding itself to each weapon as though it were merely a natural extension of his own limbs.

Even without flashy powers, even without declared S-rank might, he moved like someone born for war.

Captain Juno narrowed his eyes. — "What's your talent again, recruit?"

— "Combat Adaptation. Rank B, sir!" — Kairo replied respectfully.

Juno stared at him. — "Either that's one hell of a B-rank, or you're hiding something."

Kairo gave a half-shrug, not offering anything more. Let them wonder. Doubt was a stronger cloak than denial.

As the day wore on, Kairo's skill began to turn heads, not just among the recruits, but the higher-ranked personnel watching from afar.

At one point, he picked up a halberd and spun it in an unorthodox formation, using the shaft as leverage in acrobatic feints, using the blunt edge for counters, switching to close-range with fluid grip changes. The instructor had never seen anything like it.

— "Where the hell did he learn to do that?"

— "He's making up techniques on the spot."

— "Talk about natural talent. He's like a monster designed to fight."

And all the while, Allan Drake was watching. He was really interested in what his avatar was going through.

...

From Allan's Perspective

Miles away, in a quiet house nestled near the edge of the city's expansion, Allan sat on the floor of his room, breathing slowly.

His eyes were closed, but his mind was open. The connection was pulsing, alive.

Through the Avatar Creation talent, and amplified by Divine Feedback, everything that Kairo did resonated within him. The strikes, the posture adjustments, the shifts in tactics, Allan absorbed it all.

But he didn't just learn it.

The moment Kairo grasped the balance of a new weapon, Allan felt his own limbs automatically adjust. The muscle memory flowed into him, magnified tenfold. Every adaptation Kairo made was engraved into Allan's very being, burned into his bones and soul.

In just a single day of Kairo's training, Allan felt as though he had practiced for months. Every swing, every movement, was processed by his Infinite Mind talent, stored perfectly and layered with martial comprehension.

Then came the real benefit: through the Martial Domain (S) talent, Allan not only mirrored Kairo's growth, he expanded upon it, developing entirely new applications for each technique in theory, even before testing them physically.

His fingers twitched, mimicking a halberd grip. His legs shifted slightly, following a stance correction Kairo had learned just moments ago.

— "This power is unbelievable," Allan murmured, a small smile forming.

He opened his eyes.

They glowed with crimson light for just an instant.

...

Back to Kairo

The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon when the training ended. Most of the recruits were exhausted, soaked in sweat, clothes stained with dust and effort. But Kairo stood calmly, breathing evenly, his uniform immaculate.

Captain Juno passed by, eyeing him again.

— "You've got potential recruit," — he said gruffly. — "Even if your talent's just a B rank. We need more people like you."

Kairo only gave a nod. — "I'll serve where I'm needed, sir."

The captain didn't press further, but his eyes lingered on him a moment longer than necessary.

That night, Kairo returned to the barracks, silent as ever, and lay on his bunk without a word. The others murmured about the day, complaining, comparing bruises and sore arms.

But he didn't speak.

He didn't need to.

Because somewhere, among the citizens, the true him, the original one, was already taking those lessons to a higher level...