Should I? I might as well if there aren't any real commitments. I can always find more allies on top of her alliance.

  I take Iris's hand, feeling the unusual texture of her scales against my skin, smooth but with a subtle pattern like fine ridges. "Okay," I say simply. "Mutual support makes sense."

  Her scales shift to a pattern that suggests satisfaction, rippling with deep blues and greens. "Smart choice. No dramatic oaths or bullshit ceremonies like some factions insist on. Just practical cooperation."

  She releases my hand and adjusts her small jamming device. "First piece of useful information, your agricultural assignment tomorrow. The sector supervisor, Trell, trades extra nutrition supplements for information about other facility sectors. Mention you've worked waste processing, and he'll offer you better quality food in exchange for details about the filtration systems."

  Her information network is better than I expected. I just got the notification myself, how did she know?

  "Is he trustworthy?" I ask, mentally classifying everyone as a potential threat until proven otherwise.

  "As much as anyone here," Iris replies pragmatically. "He won't report you to administration, he's been running his little trading post for years. Just don't share anything that could actually compromise security. Basic infrastructure details are his currency."

  She moves toward the door, preparing to leave. "One more thing, the meeting Marcus called for tonight in tunnel K-14. It's legitimate, but higher risk than usual. Facility security conducted a sweep of the lower tunnels this morning. They might have planted new monitoring devices."

  I nod, appreciating the intelligence. "Thanks for the heads-up."

  "That's how this works," she says simply. "I watch your back, you watch mine. No faction politics, no hidden agendas."

  As she opens the door to leave, I can't help but maintain my skepticism. Her offer seems straightforward, but in this place, appearances are carefully crafted. I'll work with her while continuing to assess her true motivations.

  After she's gone, I sit on my bed and consider my options. Marcus's meeting could provide valuable information about security protocols, but with increased risk after a recent sweep. The agricultural assignment tomorrow offers another opportunity to map facility infrastructure and potentially secure better nutrition through this Trell character.

  Most importantly, I need to continue observing the other independents, looking for those rare individuals who might actually become true allies rather than temporary collaborators. People whose self-interest aligns with loyalty, whose skills complement mine, and whose character I can verify through consistent actions rather than words.

  For now, I'll play the game, work with Iris's loose network, attend Marcus's meeting if I can do so safely, and navigate Shatter's territorial claims without commitment. Independence means making my own choices, and right now, the smartest choice is to keep my options open while I find people I can genuinely trust.

  I check the time, still several hours before Marcus's midnight meeting. Enough time to meditate and potentially practice the telekinetic distortion shield Glitch mentioned.

  I settle cross-legged on my thin mattress, my back against the cold wall of my quarters. The harsh overhead light automatically dims to 30% as I begin my meditation routine, a small accommodation programmed into all residential units regardless of status.

  Closing my eyes, I regulate my breathing first, slow, deep inhalations followed by controlled exhalations. The mechanical hum of the facility's systems fades from my awareness as I turn my attention inward, extending my telekinetic senses into my own body.

  My neural architecture unfolds in my mind's eye, billions of connections pulsing with electrochemical signals, a living network more complex than the facility's entire infrastructure. The alien enhancements are immediately apparent, brighter pathways that channel telekinetic energy through specific regions of my brain and nervous system.

  Drifting deeper, I find it, the faint energy signature of the tracking implant embedded at the base of my skull. The device is sophisticated, with filaments extending into surrounding tissue. It monitors location, vital signs, and power output by tapping directly into my neural pathways and cardiovascular system.

  Tonight, I go beyond passive observation. I need to interfere with its signals. Through my senses, I visualize the pulses radiating outward in steady intervals, each confirming my exact position to the facility's systems. Carefully, I construct a telekinetic field around the implant, shaping it into a microscopic distortion field. Instead of blocking the signal outright, which could trigger a system alert, I introduce controlled interference, subtle shifts in the transmission frequency, slight distortions in the timing. The result is a randomized position variance, shifting my location several meters in any direction on their scanners without outright failing.

  It's a delicate process. Too much disruption, and I risk drawing attention. Too little, and the effect would be meaningless. But as I hold the field steady, I sense the shift in the transmission pattern. For the first time since my arrival, my exact position in this facility is uncertain to them.

  Next I work on improving the field, adding more variance to the signal without completely blocking it. This should allow me to increase or decrease the variance in my location as needed.

  Perfect! Now I should be far more ready for any espionage work in the future.

  As I withdraw from deep meditation, I check the tablet. Its display shows the time, 2230 hours. Marcus's meeting in service tunnel K-14 is scheduled for 2300. Hm, given what Marcus told me in the last meeting, there’s not much point in scrambling my tracking implant here. But since I just developed the skill I might as well practice it.

  I leave my quarters at precisely 2245, making sure to activate the distortion field around my tracker. The corridors of Block D are quieter now, with most independents either in their quarters or gathered in designated common areas. The facility's night cycle has reduced the lighting to a dim bluish glow, casting long shadows across the utilitarian spaces.

  Using the shower access panel as before, I slip into the maintenance passage behind my quarters. The tunnel is darker than during my previous journey, with only emergency lighting strips providing minimal illumination every few meters. The air feels damper, carrying the distinct smell of lubricants, ozone, and the faint metallic tang that permeates the facility's infrastructure.

  My enhanced telekinetic awareness proves immediately valuable, allowing me to sense obstacles and direction changes before encountering them physically. I extend my perception outward, mapping the tunnel network as I navigate toward K-14. The pathways form a complex three-dimensional maze, with some passages rising toward upper levels while others descend deeper into the facility's foundation.

  Following the alphanumeric markings on junctions, I make my way toward the waste processing level first, then branch off toward service tunnel K-14. This route is less direct but avoids several security checkpoints I can sense with my enhanced awareness. The tracking implant at my brain stem continues to report my location, but these maintenance tunnels provide a natural dampening effect, one I further emphasize by subtly scrambling the signal, applying just enough interference to make my movements appear erratic and less distinct on their tracking systems.

  As I approach tunnel K-14, I detect energy signatures ahead, several enhanced humans gathered in what appears to be a small junction chamber where multiple passages converge. One signature is unmistakably Marcus, his electrical pattern distinctive even at a distance.

  Before fully committing to the meeting, I pause to extend my telekinetic awareness through the surrounding area, searching for any sign of new monitoring devices as Iris warned. There, a recently installed sensor node in the ceiling of the junction, its power signature fresh compared to the older systems. I wouldn't have noticed it without my neural pathway improvements.

  I proceed with greater caution, ducking lower in the tunnel and masking my approach. When I reach the entrance to the junction, I follow the protocol: three knocks, pause, two knocks.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "Enter," comes Marcus's voice from within.

  I step into the junction to find five people gathered in the small space, Marcus, Volt, Pulse, Phantom, and one guy I don't recognize. A bald man with intricate scarification patterns covering his scalp.

  "Gary," Marcus acknowledges me with a nod. "You made it. Notice anything interesting on your way here?"

  "Fresh monitoring device in the ceiling," I reply, gesturing upward. "Wasn't well-integrated with the older systems."

  Marcus exchanges glances with the others. "Good eye. That's actually why I called this." He gestures toward a crude diagram scratched onto a metal panel. "Facility security is implementing a new monitoring grid throughout the infrastructure tunnels. Standard procedure after a few too many unscheduled meetings like this one."

  The scarified man speaks, his voice surprisingly soft for his imposing appearance. "I'm Weaver. Data interception specialist." He points to the diagram. "The new grid operates on a frequency we haven't cracked yet. Until we do, most of our usual meeting spots are compromised."

  "Which means we adapt," Marcus continues. "This junction is already tagged with a new monitor, but I've set up a localized electromagnetic distortion field." He points to a small device attached to a pipe above. "It feeds them consistent data patterns, empty tunnel, normal temperature fluctuations, nothing suspicious."

  Phantom approaches me, her movements fluid and almost ghostlike. "Are you sure you should be telling the new guy all this?" she asks Marcus, her tone unreadable. "I don't think he's ready." She studies me with unnervingly direct eye contact, her presence carrying an eerie weight despite her semi-transparent form.

  "Ready for what?" I ask, getting a bit nervous.

  Marcus creates a small electrical sphere between his palms, illuminating the junction with a blue-white glow. "Letting you in to the inner circle, telling you our true motives. We're not just resistors or rebels or whatever label others have given us. We're something more specific, we're mapping an exit."

  The statement hangs in the air for a moment before he continues.

  "Most factions are focused on surviving within the system, getting better resources, more privileges, higher status. Even the supposed rebellion groups are just looking to improve conditions." The electrical sphere pulses brighter. "We're not interested in a better cage. We're finding a way out."

  Volt steps forward. "The facility isn't just a training complex or arena preparation center. It's one node in a larger network. Transport vessels move between facilities on regular schedules."

  Pulse's blue veins glow faintly as he adds, "I used to work in transport scheduling before enhancement. The aliens maintain hubs where vessels dock for maintenance and crew rotation. Security at these points is focused on external threats, not internal escapes."

  "You're planning to hijack a transport?" I ask, trying to understand their actual strategy.

  Weaver shakes his head, the scarification patterns catching the light from Marcus's electrical sphere. "Too well defended. But the maintenance cycles create opportunities, skeleton crews, systems taken offline for updates."

  Marcus dismisses the electrical sphere with a flick of his wrist, plunging the junction back into dim emergency lighting. "We're not ready yet. We need more intelligence about the transport schedules, more understanding of their navigation systems, and most importantly, we need to disable the tracking implants."

  Phantom's translucent hand rises to the base of her skull. "I've partially phased mine, it still registers life signs but location data is corrupted. Not enough for actual escape, but enough to move more freely within the facility."

  "So why tell me all this now?" I ask, still uncertain of my role in their plans.

  Marcus steps closer, his scarred face serious in the dim light. "Because tonight we confirmed something critical. The new monitoring grid isn't just tracking movement in the tunnels, it's specifically designed to detect telekinetic signatures. Your ability makes you both valuable and vulnerable."

  The implications are clear, my power development sessions could trigger the new security systems if I'm not careful. But it also suggests the aliens see telekinetics as particularly worthy of monitoring.

  "We need someone who can manipulate matter at a molecular level," Weaver explains. "The tracking implants are partially organic, partially technological. Removing them completely is risky, fatal in some cases. But modifying them without removal might be possible with precise enough telekinetic control."

  "We're not asking for commitment to the escape plan yet," Marcus says. "Just mutual protection and information sharing. Your abilities develop along your own path, but with awareness of the security risks and our shared knowledge."

  The junction falls silent as they wait for my response. The offer seems more concrete than vague revolutionary rhetoric, specific goals, identified challenges, particular roles. Still, trust remains the critical question, and these people are still largely unknown quantities to me.

  "I'll share information about the monitoring systems," I say carefully. "And I'm interested in learning more about the tracking implants. Beyond that, let's see how things develop."

  Marcus nods, apparently satisfied with this limited commitment. "Fair enough. For now, we should disperse before staying in one place too long. Even with the distortion field, extended gatherings can trigger pattern recognition algorithms."

  I make my way back to Block D through the maintenance tunnels, my enhanced telekinetic awareness guiding me through the darkness. The meeting with Marcus and his group left me with more questions than answers. An actual escape attempt seems ambitious bordering on delusional, but the intelligence about the new monitoring systems is immediately valuable.

  Back in my quarters, I replace the shower panel carefully and check that the Umbra data chip remains securely hidden under my mattress. The small room feels almost familiar now, a private space, however minimal, in this controlled environment.

  I settle onto the thin mattress, arranging my body in a comfortable position for deep meditation. The facility's night cycle has dimmed the lighting automatically, creating suitable conditions for the trance state I'm seeking.

  As my breathing slows and my conscious mind begins to detach from immediate surroundings, I direct my awareness inward rather than outward. The neural pathways I modified earlier pulse with renewed energy, the optimized connections allowing for more efficient telekinetic function.

  My consciousness slides deeper into meditation, maintaining a thread of awareness as sleep approaches. In this liminal state between waking and dreaming, my telekinetic sense becomes almost dreamlike in its freedom, unrestricted by physical limitations or conscious doubt.

  I focus first on consolidating the neural modifications I made before, reinforcing the new pathways and ensuring stability. The telekinetic energy flows more naturally now, responding to intuition rather than deliberate commands. What was once an alien addition to my biology is increasingly becoming an integrated part of my identity.

  Next, I turn my attention to sensory processing, the neural regions that interpret telekinetic feedback. With subtle manipulations at the cellular level, I enhance these pathways, improving both range and resolution. My awareness extends outward while my body remains in deep meditation, mapping the facility in greater detail than before.

  I can sense the energy signatures of other enhanced humans throughout Block D, some awake and restless, others in various stages of sleep. Each signature is unique, a fingerprint of their particular abilities and biological modifications. Some burn bright with active power usage, while others maintain a steady, banked intensity.

  More interesting are the facility systems that become visible to my enhanced perception, power conduits running through walls, communication networks carrying data streams, security systems constantly monitoring for unauthorized activity. In this dream-meditation state, these systems appear as luminous networks of energy, revealing the technological skeleton beneath the facility's physical structure.

  My awareness brushes against something unexpected, a strange dead zone several levels below my current position. Unlike the rest of the facility, this area emits no energy signatures, no data flows, nothing that registers to my telekinetic senses. It's as if something is deliberately blocking or absorbing all energy in that sector. A mystery for future exploration.

  Returning my focus inward, I concentrate on the tracking implant at my brain stem. Its structure becomes clearer in this enhanced meditative state, a bio-mechanical device with filaments extending into surrounding neural tissue. The implant monitors location, vital signs, and power output, transmitting this data through microwave pulses to the facility's tracking systems.

  I don't attempt removal or deactivation, that would be dangerously premature without more information. Instead, I study its integration points, the specific neurons it connects to, the pathways it monitors. Understanding its function is the first step toward potentially controlling or modifying its output.

  As the night deepens, my meditation continues to refine my abilities at a fundamental level. Without sponsor enhancements forcibly directing my development, my powers evolve organically, following patterns defined by my unique neural architecture rather than alien specifications.

  I work on telekinetic precision, visualizing control at increasingly minute scales. If molecular manipulation is possible, perhaps atomic manipulation lies within reach as well. The potential applications are staggering, not just lifting objects, but transforming their fundamental properties.

  In this dream state, I experiment with my own cellular structure, accelerating healing processes, optimizing metabolic functions, strengthening connections between mind and body. The aliens engineered these enhancements for combat purposes, never considering we might repurpose them for self-evolution.

  By the time the facility's morning cycle begins, pulling me gently from deep meditation back to waking consciousness, I feel significantly changed. My telekinetic abilities respond more intuitively, requiring less conscious effort. My sensory perception has sharpened, allowing me to detect energy patterns and material compositions with unprecedented clarity.

  My tablet chimes with a notification: "Nutrition Access 0600-0700, followed by Training Facility 9." Another day as an independent asset begins, but I face it with confidence in my ever-growing powers.