Part 1 - Calisthenics Oriented Towards the Body and Objects
The first delivery arrived three days after he was discharged from the hospital.
Three boxes, left at the building's reception desk with his name barely scribbled in pen.
Thomas carried them to the kitchen without saying a word, stacked them on the table, took a deep breath, and just… stared. As if that pile of cardboard marked a turning point. In a way, it did.
Inside them were the choices he had made while in the hospital.
Not impulsively. But strategically.
A new routine. A new method. A new identity.
A new body — built, programmed, honed.
In the first box, a chest strap heart rate monitor, with real-time readings of heartbeat, oxygen saturation, respiratory flow, and Bluetooth transmission to his phone, syncing with his spreadsheets.
In the second, a smartwatch capable of measuring thermal variation, stress, and VO2 max estimation — the most expensive model he could afford, paid in ten installments.
In the third and heaviest, a small black tower: an FPV drone, modified to fly via GPS mapping, tracking the signal from his watch.
He spent three days tweaking the drone's software.
He altered the source code, integrated it with the monitoring system he had started building in the hospital — a dashboard where he could track his own levels:
• Strength — and every anatomical variable he could translate into data: muscle torque, burst power, one-rep max.
• Speed — timed, mapped, measured by impulses, reaction time, and launch acceleration.
• Precision — calculated down to the millimeter, using fixed and moving targets, repeating tests with the levitating knife.
• Stability — the ability to remain in control under pressure, with a scattered mind, a daughter calling out, sweat dripping into his eyes.
• Vitality — cross-referencing oxygenation, heart rate, and post-effort recovery.
And now… a new field:
• Ayvu.
Still experimental, abstract, but real.
A field that responded to emotion, intent, and focus.
He didn't exactly know what it measured…
But the system knew when it manifested.
Thomas had no idea what he was really doing, but he based everything on spikes in blood pressure, electrical muscle activity, oxygenation, heart rate, and some unusual patterns his smartwatch recorded whenever he used telekinesis — even lightly.
It was like programming in an unknown language.
But he could recognize patterns — and data doesn't lie.
That same afternoon, he set up a training station in an abandoned warehouse fifteen minutes away from his home by running.
He installed makeshift iron bars, filled tires with sand, used ropes for obstacles, and on a concrete wall, painted targets with red spray paint.
— What's this, daddy? — Gabrielle asked, eyes wide, while he wiped sweat on his shirt and adjusted the drone cables.
— An adventure park — he replied with a smile.
Olivia just watched from a distance, leaning against the fence.
She knew he was trying hard. That he carried too much fear in his eyes, even when he smiled.
But she didn't interfere.
Sometimes she brought juice. Sometimes she let Gabrielle watch the training.
And sometimes… she just left in silence.
In a black-covered notebook, Thomas recorded everything:
Day 1: 10km run. Pull-ups: 4 sets of 8. Isometric crunches: failure at 45 seconds. Mug balance: 22 seconds. Detectable Ayvu for 14 seconds in 3 attempts.
On the computer screen, the graph trembled.
Energy spikes appeared every time he focused hard, took a deep breath, and made the knife float a few centimeters.
The system's interface was still simple, but functional.
Green lines. Blue bars. Red alerts.
Each day, he adjusted the code:
if reaction_speed > average × 1.15:
status = "significant improvement"
elif Ayvu_output > threshold and stability < 70%:
status = "energetic instability"
It felt like playing a game where the enemy was death itself — and time was limited.
He woke up at 5am.
Ran fifteen kilometers with the drone filming beside him, capturing angles, posture, cadence, acceleration, propulsion.
Returned. Stretched. Cold shower.
Then sat in front of the notebook and reviewed the footage. Paused. Replayed. Took notes.
"Left arm swing destabilizes stride."
"Ankle lacks firmness on tire jump."
"Telekinesis at the end of pull-up slightly alters pulse."
During the day, he worked remotely. The client remained the same. So did the spreadsheet system.
But now, everything felt… secondary.
Thomas did the work. Delivered results.
But his mind was already running another code.
A code with no defined language. No tutorial. No GitHub.
Just… trial and error.
At night, he alternated between programming, testing, and playing with Gabrielle. Sometimes, she'd sit on his lap and draw while he typed.
— What are you doing, daddy?
— Building a system that shows me when I get stronger.
— Like a video game?
— Sort of.
— Will you have superpowers?
He smiled.
— I hope so. But don't tell anyone, okay?
— Superhero secret?
— Exactly.
She nodded seriously, like she had just joined the Justice League.
Olivia listened from the kitchen, washing dishes, with a discreet smile.
But also with a fear she didn't know how to name.
Thomas even tracked his dream frequency. Woke up, checked the watch, monitored if there were heartbeat spikes during the night.
Calculated stress peaks and tried to correlate them with unconscious Ayvu use.
Developed an "spiritual instability" algorithm based on chest sensor data and involuntary movements.
And every night, before sleeping, he'd ask himself:
How long until another Yandu appears?
One night, something changed.
Thomas was practicing with three objects: two knives and a pen.
The pen spun erratically in the air, but the knives obeyed his will better.
That's when — for the first time — he felt it.
The field.
A sort of reverse gravity. As if the air around the knives bent to his intent.
They didn't just float. They… responded.
He paused everything. Ran to the notebook. And created a new parameter:
response_vector = intent × mental_control × neural_stability
When he executed the script, the screen blinked. A new graph appeared.
The Vector Zone.
Still rough. Still unstable. But real.
That night, Thomas fell asleep with his eyes open, notebook on his lap, graph still blinking.
And in his notebook, he scribbled in large letters:
"ZONE 1: WEAK DOMINION — INTENT: DEFENSE / REPULSION"
The next morning, he woke up to find Olivia leaning against the doorway with a cup of coffee in hand.
— You're going to collapse — she said.
— Only after I reach level 50 — he replied, still groggy.
— Can't you train like a normal human?
— I'm not a normal human anymore.
She approached. Placed the coffee on the table and looked at the code on screen.
— This is how you'll protect us?
He nodded, serious.
— Then that's fine — she said, and kissed his forehead.
Thomas closed his eyes for a second. But then reopened them.
He couldn't stop.
In the following days, he added new metrics: explosive impulse, auditory stimulus reaction time, precision with static targets, continuous telekinesis without interruption.
And the most complex of all: resistance to residual poison — based on his own experience with Calil's blade.
He began studying the effects of pain on Ayvu usage. Reviewed drone footage with thermal cameras. Noticed his body heated more when using defensive energy.
Cross-referenced with heart rate readings.
Discovered that when he thought of Olivia or Gabrielle, his telekinesis responded faster.
Created a hidden field in the system, visible only to him:
"Emotional Bond Factor — Ayvu response intensity based on emotional triggers."
It was almost like… programmed magic. But it was real.
And then, on the fourteenth day, after a four-hour training session, he sat in the warehouse, drenched in sweat, trembling.
He looked at the notebook. At the data. At the stats.
It wasn't enough. He was still weak.
Thomas carefully closed the notebook and looked at the wall.
His reflection in the window looked like another man. Leaner. Firmer. Deep eyes, yet alert. Forearm veins more prominent, shoulders more defined. Something new was there — not just strength, but direction.
The phone vibrated silently on the table. He picked it up, hesitated for a few seconds… and dialed a number.
It rang three times.
On the fourth, a deep voice answered:
— I figured you'd call me this week.
Part 2 - Leveling up
— Hector. I need to talk.
— Go ahead. I'm listening.
Thomas stopped mid-step, looking up at the already dark sky over Jacarepaguá. He took a deep breath.
— I've been training every day. Running. Pull-ups, calisthenics. Testing this mind thing. Telekinesis. Recording everything with the drone. Logging every bit of progress. But it's still not enough. I know it's not.
Hector was silent on the other end for a few seconds.
— And you want to take the next step?
— I do. I want to know what it is. I want to get stronger. For real.
— Then you already know you can't stay with Olivia and Gabi by your side.
Thomas nodded to himself, as if Hector could see him.
— Yeah. I know.
— Your presence now… the energy you carry. It draws things in. Things even I can't properly track.
— Then train me.
— One month.
— What?
— A full month away from home. Intensive training. Total isolation.
Thomas kept walking, his footsteps echoing on the empty asphalt. He turned into one of the inner streets of the neighborhood, surrounded by vegetation and distant houses. The air was humid, thick with the scent of earth and salt. He looked at the dark sky, no stars in sight, and replied:
— I can handle a month. I've got unused vacation days, and my boss will let me go. I'll say I'm traveling with the family.
Hector let out a brief grunt of approval.
— You're taking this seriously. Good.
— I just need one thing.
— Say it.
— Guarantees. That Olivia and Gabrielle will be safe. I can't train or sleep peacefully without that.
— I've already thought about that. There are amulets. Made from Yandu cores. They hide your Ayvu signature, block spiritual tracking, and even confuse more sensitive predators.
Thomas narrowed his eyes.
— Cores?
— The hearts of the Yandus. The densest energy core in their bodies. The vital source. You'll need two.
— And how do I get them?
— Hunting. You'll train until you're ready to face two mid-level Yandus. Not like the monster in the alley, but still dangerous.
— And when I succeed… you'll give them the amulets?
— Personally. I'll place one on each of them. You'll know.
Thomas bit the corner of his lower lip, deep in thought. The street was empty. A dog barked in the distance.
— There's more.
— Go on.
— What exactly am I going to learn in this training? Is it just physical? Because… I'm not a soldier. I don't want to become a killer.
— And you won't. This training is to help you control your energy. To understand the origin of your Vekatu. To master the will this thing has to kill. Because if you don't, it will master you.
— I've felt that once. In the alley. When I killed Calil. It didn't feel like I was in control.
— Exactly. That's the problem. You tapped into a power that's ancient, raw, savage. Now you need to tame it. Refine it. Do you understand what it means to be able to drain Ayvu and steal a Hekato?
— I do.
— Very few in the world have that ability. And those who do… well, most went mad or disappeared.
Thomas stopped walking.
— So I'm a risk?
— To the ones you love? Right now? Yes.
The silence that followed was heavy.
But Thomas didn't hesitate.
— Send me the address. And the instructions. I'll be ready.
— Five days from now, at dawn. I'll send a meeting point tomorrow. Bring only what's necessary. Nothing traceable. Nothing carrying the scent of your home. Nothing identifiable.
Thomas closed his eyes for a second.
— Hector…
— Yeah?
— Thank you.
— Don't thank me yet. This is going to hurt.
And he hung up.
Thomas slipped the phone into his pocket and looked around. The city lights in the distance flickered as if made of water. Beside him, the tall grass swayed in the gentle wind. For a moment, he felt the salty sea breeze mixed with the sweet aroma of wildflowers growing along the hillside.
He raised his head. The sky still dark.
The night, full of dangers.
Part 3 - Memories
Thomas couldn't explain how he managed it, but he told Olivia everything.
Calmly. Without embellishment.
She listened. Fully. In silence. And when he finished… she just hugged him.
There were no fights, no promises, no demands.
There was fear, of course.
But there was also love.
The kind of love that doesn't need explanations — only presence.
Gabrielle, however, was what hurt the most.
Thomas knelt on the living room floor, holding his daughter in his arms, and explained that he'd need to "travel somewhere far away, just for a while, to become stronger."
Gabi didn't understand.
But she held his face with her two small hands and said:
— When you come back… will you take me to see the ocean?
Thomas promised.
And when he closed the door to their home that early morning, before the sun rose, he cried.
Silently.
Not out of fear.
But because he knew that "see you soon" might be the last.
The meeting point was a dirt shoulder just a few kilometers off an old road that cut through the mountainous region of Rio toward the coast.
It was still dawn.
The sky was heavy with thick clouds, as if it rained silently behind them.
The scent of salt already filled the air. The wind was strong.
And there wasn't a single car passing by.
Thomas wore a light backpack, with a few clothes, a notebook, chargers, basic food supplies, and the modified drone. On his wrist, the watch. On his chest, tucked beneath his shirt, the heart rate monitor.
Hector arrived on foot, emerging from the forest.
He wore loose dark pants, a sleeveless shirt, and a coat over it. He carried a small backpack on his back and a rectangular wooden box in his arms.
— Ready? — he asked, straight to the point.
Thomas nodded.
— I am.
Hector looked at his body for a moment.
He didn't smile. He didn't comment. But he nodded too — as if silently evaluating.
The hunter's eyes analyzed muscles, posture, expression.
But what screamed the most… was the Ayvu.
Without another word, Hector turned and pointed toward the trail behind him.
— Let's go. It's far.
They walked for almost an hour in silence. The thick forest muffled their footsteps, and the sky, now tinged with bluish hues, began to surrender to the arrival of daylight.
They reached a plateau between two slopes — a clearing protected by hills covered in dense vegetation, with large stones and abandoned wooden sheds.
At the center, a circle of stones that resembled an old training ground.
Thomas dropped his backpack and slowly approached, observing the place.
The nature there felt… ancient.
As if the wind blew differently.
Then, Hector stepped behind him and placed the wooden box on a stone.
— This is yours now — he said, and opened the lid.
Inside, wrapped in dark fabric, were two curved daggers — with matte blades and bone-carved hilts.
Thomas recognized them immediately.
Calil's daggers.
The wooden box absorbed the tension in the air.
The salty scent of the wind seemed to pause.
Thomas took a step back, surprised.
— Why…? — he began, but his voice came out low.
Hector stared into the box's interior, as if he himself were still deciding whether he should have done that.