For a moment, neither Anya nor Watson spoke.
Less than a minute had passed since Ryan had closed his eyes. Watson had expected speed, but not this. He forced his expression back into neutrality before Ryan could read anything from it.
Anya recovered first. "Good," she said, her tone even. "That means the dormant organ has stabilized."
Ryan studied their faces. Something had shifted, briefly, then vanished. He could not tell what it meant.
"Now that you can sense it," Anya continued, "you need to release the energy. Circulate it through your body first. It may feel uncomfortable. It may not respond the way you expect. That's normal."
Watson nodded. "Think of it like a throttle on a bike. You don't squeeze it all the way. Just a little pressure. Full force comes later, after you know how it reacts."
The analogy drew a small smile from Ryan. He closed his eyes again and focused inward.
Finding the second heart was easier this time. It no longer felt like a vague presence beneath his awareness. He knew where it was, even if he could not describe how. It pulsed in a rhythm that was not quite his own.
He tried to move it.
Nothing happened.
He waited, then tried again, imagining pressure the way Watson had described it. The heart continued to beat, indifferent to his intent. Ryan frowned slightly and adjusted his breathing, steadying himself.
He tried wishing instead. A simple desire, unfocused and quiet.
The heart did not respond.
Ryan felt a flicker of frustration and let it fade before it could take hold. He recalled Anya's words. A dormant organ. Literal. Not symbolic.
He stopped trying to command it.
Instead, he treated it the way he treated his own body.
He focused on the sensation of his hands, then his legs. He imagined moving them, not ordering them. When his attention returned to the second heart, something shifted. The sensation sharpened, subtle but distinct.
It was there.
Not passive. Not distant.
Present.
As it pulsed, Ryan felt a faint current move with it. Not blood. Something thinner, colder. It spread through him in uneven waves, unfamiliar and difficult to track.
Carefully, he tried to push.
The response was immediate and uncontrolled.
Energy surged outward, rushing toward his hands before dispersing into nothing. The sensation vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a hollow stillness.
Ryan opened his eyes.
Watson was already smiling. "That happens to everyone," he said. "Stalling at the start. Once you find the balance point, it's as natural as using your hands."
Ryan nodded and closed his eyes again.
This time, when he reached for the second heart, it resisted. Not actively, but by refusing to respond to the same approach twice. He adjusted his focus, easing his intent.
Too little.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, slightly firmer. The current stirred, then collapsed.
Too much.
The energy surged and vanished again, slipping out of his control before he could guide it.
Ryan tried again.
And again.
Time blurred into repetition. Each attempt taught him what not to do. Push too hard and the energy escaped him. Hold back too much and nothing moved at all. His breathing slowed as he narrowed his focus, paying attention to the smallest shifts in sensation.
On the thirty-first attempt, the current responded. It gathered, thin but stable, hovering just beneath his awareness. Ryan hesitated, then lost it when his concentration wavered.
It dissipated.
He exhaled slowly.
Just a little more.
On the next attempt, he guided the second heart with measured intent. The current formed again, steadier this time. He did not rush it. He let it build at its own pace, increasing the pressure gradually instead of forcing it.
The energy obeyed.
It moved down his arm and gathered near his palm, held in place by careful restraint. Ryan opened his eyes, keeping his focus intact.
"I did it," he said quietly. "I can feel it."
Anya and Watson both watched him closely.
"That's good," Anya said. "Now we test the effect. Start simple. The bottle."
Ryan nodded. "For now, I can't affect anything without touching it," he added. "I can feel the limitation."
"That's normal," Anya replied. She handed him the water bottle. "Everyone starts there."
Ryan wrapped his fingers around the plastic. He focused inward again, finding the second heart and guiding its output toward his hand. When the energy reached the surface of his skin, he increased the pressure slightly.
The bottle vanished.
Not shattered. Not crushed.
Gone.
There was no sound. No residue. Nothing left behind for his senses to register. Ryan stared at his empty hand, his eyes widening before he could stop himself.
He looked up, expecting a reaction.
Anya and Watson were silent.
Their attention had sharpened, their expressions carefully controlled. The ease from before was gone, replaced by something quieter and more deliberate.
Ryan frowned. "Did I do something wrong?"
Anya shook her head. "No," she said after a brief pause. "It's just… stronger than we anticipated."
Watson nodded once. "For a first application, that was well beyond the baseline."
Relief washed through Ryan, followed by a cautious pride. His earlier doubts faded, replaced by a growing confidence that he had not allowed himself to feel before.
Anya's expression hardened slightly.
"Listen carefully," she said. "Until you have full control over your dormant organ, you do not use your ability without one of us present."
Ryan hesitated, then nodded.