"Brute strength and super speed." Tysone answered, wiping grease from his hands. The answer was obvious.
"Correct." Saya nodded. "But there could be variations. Maybe one grants enhanced durability, another grants explosive strength."
"Well, the core we distributed last night granted all of the above." Tysone mused. "Just... diluted. Not to the same degree as we see in the zombies themselves."
Saya's expression turned grim. "It seems the core's effect is tempered by the host's pre-existing physiology and potential. A human body might not be able to handle the raw, unadulterated power of a higher-rank core without... complications."
"Which explains why I can't suddenly spew out fire from my mouth like the fire zombie I killed. I thought the core granted a watered down version of whatever it is that they wield. But I guess it's not as simple as that."
"So, these cores could also make us into 'themed' individuals." Kohta thought, rubbing his chin. "I can't help but think of a game system. We're the players, and the cores are the loot drops."
"An apt, if simplistic, analogy, Kohta." Saya conceded. "The point is, we can't just hand them out like candy. We need to know what we're dealing with. We need to find a way to... scan them, perhaps. To identify their type and potential rank before absorption."
"So we don't get someone with a fire core when we need a tank." Tysone concluded.
"Precisely. A specialized team is far more effective than a group of randomly-powered individuals."
"Specialized team, huh?" He echoed Saya's words, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I like the sound of that. Fire squad, speed squad, tank squad... sounds like we're building an army."
Saya rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement in them. "This isn't a video game, Tysone. We're talking about potentially life-altering, possibly dangerous mutations. One wrong core, and we could have someone spontaneously combusting or turning into a mindless brute."
Kohta's eyes sparkled behind his glasses. "Or someone who can shoot lasers from their eyes! Or control metal! Or—"
"Kohta." Saya and Tysone said in unison.
He deflated slightly. "Right. Serious business."
Tysone pushed off the truck, stretching his arms above his head. The motion made his shirt ride up, revealing the hard lines of his abs. Saya's gaze flicked down for a split second before she caught herself, clearing her throat.
"Alright, genius." He said, turning to her. "How do we 'scan' these things? You got some kind of core-reader in that big brain of yours?"
Saya adjusted her glasses, a habit when she was thinking. "Not yet. But I've been working on it. The energy signatures are measurable. If we can isolate the frequency patterns—"
"In English, Saya."
She sighed. "I need equipment. A spectrometer, an oscilloscope, maybe a Geiger counter to measure radiation levels. Something to detect electromagnetic fluctuations. The cores emit a faint energy field. If we can map that field..."
"We can figure out what kind of power-up we're dealing with before someone shoves it in their veins." Tysone finished.
"Exactly."
Kohta raised a hand. "There's an electronics store a few miles west. Before everything went to hell, they had all kinds of fancy gear. Might still be there."
Tysone nodded. "Worth a shot. We'll add it to the list."
Saya hesitated, then spoke again. "There's something else."
Tysone raised an eyebrow. "Hit me."
"The fire core you absorbed. Your body temperature has been consistently higher since then. Not dangerously so, but noticeably. And there have been... fluctuations. When you're agitated, or during training, it spikes."
He shrugged. "I feel fine. Better than fine, actually."
"That's not the point." She stepped closer, her voice lowering. "We don't know the long-term effects. You absorbed a higher-rank core under extreme duress. Your body might still be... adapting."
"Adapting how?"
"I don't know." She admitted, frustration creeping into her voice. "That's why we need to be careful. We need data. We need to understand what these things are doing to us."
Tysone reached out, gently tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. "Hey. I trust you. If anyone can figure this out, it's you."
Saya's cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't pull away. "Flattery won't get you out of regular check-ups."
"Wouldn't dream of it, doc."
Kohta cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh, should I... give you two a moment?"
Tysone and Saya both turned to him, speaking in unison. "No."
Kohta raised his hands in surrender. "Just asking!"
"Right then." Tysone clapped his hands together, breaking the slight tension. "Industrial district it is. Kohta, finish reinforcing the suspension. Saya, compile a list of necessary equipment. We'll head for the city once our baby right here is capable of tanking an evolved or two."
"Roger that!" Kohta saluted. "She'll be a steel behemoth, a chariot of pure destruction!" He then went back to work, already humming a dramatic, over-the-top theme song under his breath.
Saya, however, lingered. "Tysone."
"Still here?"
"I..." She looked away for a second, her usual confident faltering. "Be careful. The industrial district... it was heavily populated. The zombie concentration will be high. And if what we've seen so far is any indication..." She left the rest unsaid.
He smiled, a genuine, warm expression that seemed to disarm her. "Always am. But thanks for the concern. It means a lot."
She just nodded, turning and walking away without another word.
"..."
Saya was right. The industrial district would likely have a staggering number of zombies, not to mention the evolved ones. The risks were high. But the rewards were even higher. Better tools, more scrap metal for the truck, and the equipment Saya needed for her research. And cores. A treasure trove for those who sought high risk and high reward.
Before they were ready to depart, Tysone wanted to make sure everyone was ready and fully adapted to their newfound abilities, especially Takashi and Rei. He had Saeko put them through another rigorous training session.
And this time, Tysone joined in, acting as a sparring partner for them both, one at a time. He wanted to test their limits, to see how far they'd come.
But he also made time for himself.
Beyond training himself to exhaustion and then recovering within minutes, Tysone also engaged in a new hobby: exploring the limits of his fire power. If he truly had any. After all, even if Saya's explanation was plausible enough, it could've also been something else. He needed to test it.
So he went to the backyard, an empty patch of grass far enough from the building. Meditation had never been something he'd been interested in, but for the sake of exploring the power within him, he had to give it a try. After all, this was more of an internal, supernatural thing. He had to try and coax the fire out. If it was truly there.
He started with focusing.
He focused inward.
On the heat.
It was always there now, a low simmer under his skin. Like a furnace banked low, waiting for fuel. Shizuka had said that he'd been warmer, hotter. Saya confirmed his body temperature had increased. Even when he killed zombies, there were times where a surge of something would instinctively come out.
There was something 'foreign' within him. No doubt about that. He just had to learn to control it. Make it his.
He pictured it.
A spark.
A flame.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, this time thinking about the fire zombie. The way its body had burned, the heat that had rolled off it even in the rain.
Still nothing.
"Come on." He muttered under his breath.
He held out his hand, palm up.
Focused harder.
Willed it.
A faint warmth spread through his fingers.
Barely noticeable. But it was something.
He pushed more, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. He pictured a ball of fire erupting from his palm.
Instead, a small wisp of smoke curled up from his skin.
He let out a frustrated sigh. At least it was a start. He wasn't a firebender. Not yet.
He tried again, this time he dialed up the flames in his imagination. Instead of a spark, or a simple, uncool flame, he thought about a literal fire tornado. Something badass and unstoppable. A force of nature; because that's what Tysone aimed to become.
It had to resonate.
He could feel it.
Heat.
Crackling.
Like the hearth of a fireplace.
Slowly, very slowly, a spark appeared, just above his palm. It flickered there for a moment, before fizzling out.
Tysone grinned. So there was a fire. Or the beginning of it.
Author's Note:
If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at [email protected]/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.