Chapter 6: The First Lesson


    <hr>


    Fight or Be Forgotten


    There was no warning.


    No prep time.


    No “Let’s ease into this” speech.


    One second, Axel was standing there, still trying to process how the hell Elias Rook was supposed to be his mentor—


    The next, he was dodging for his life.


    “MOVE, KID!” Rook shouted mid-swing, the metal baton in his hands cutting through the air like a blade.


    Axel barely managed to duck, the tip of the baton whizzing past his head. He stumbled backward, Tempo screeching as he clung onto Axel’s shoulder, his tail whipping wildly.


    “What the hell, man?!” Axel barked. “You’re actually trying to hit me?”


    “Duh.” Rook grinned, flipping the baton in his hand like a showman. “This is your first lesson: If you can’t fight, your Cipher Beast can’t fight.”


    Axel scowled. “That doesn’t even—”


    Rook lunged.


    Axel yelped, throwing himself to the side as the baton slammed down, hitting the ground with enough force to leave a dent in the floor.


    Axel’s heart slammed against his ribs.


    Okay. Maybe Rook wasn’t holding back.


    “Lesson starts now, Mercer.” Rook twirled the baton lazily. “You’ve got five minutes to land a hit on me.”


    Axel blinked. “That’s it?”


    Rook smirked. “Or die trying.”


    Axel had a feeling he wasn’t joking.


    <hr>


    The Problem with Combat Training


    Most students at Helix Academy had two primary combat styles.


    1. Cipher-Dependent Combat: They relied entirely on their Cipher Beasts to fight for them. This worked great if you had something like a Storm Wyvern or a Plasma Tiger—big, destructive, fast.


    2. Dual Combat: They trained alongside their Cipher Beasts, using weapons, strategy, and direct combat techniques. This was mostly for Striker-Class and Assassin-Class partners.


    But there was one unspoken rule.


    If you couldn’t fight alone, you couldn’t fight at all.


    Which was a problem.


    Because Axel?


    Axel had never been in a real fight.


    Dodging trouble? Sure. Running his mouth? Absolutely. But actual hand-to-hand combat?


    Yeah. Not his thing.


    And Rook knew it.


    <hr>


    Tempo’s Instincts


    Axel stumbled back as Rook advanced, striking in sharp, precise arcs.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Tempo, still clinging to his shoulder, was freaking out.


    "Heh-heh-HEH!"


    Axel could feel his Cipher Beast’s tiny hands gripping onto his jacket, reacting to every movement.


    That’s when it hit him.


    Tempo wasn’t just panicking.


    He was matching Axel’s movements.


    The tiny monkey’s breathing synced with his. His grip tightened when Axel shifted his weight. When Axel nearly tripped, Tempo’s tail lashed out, adjusting his balance.


    He wasn’t just along for the ride.


    He was adapting in real time.


    Rook swung again. Axel twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike—


    And Tempo mimicked the motion, flipping from Axel’s shoulder onto the ground.


    They landed at the same time, their breathing in perfect sync.


    Axel’s eyes widened.


    Oh.


    Oh, this was something.


    <hr>


    Understanding the Rhythm


    “Would you look at that,” Rook mused. “You’re starting to see it, huh?”


    Axel didn’t respond. He was too busy testing a theory.


    He shifted his stance.


    Tempo copied him.


    He crouched slightly, weight on the balls of his feet.


    Tempo’s tail flicked, muscles tensing like a coiled spring.


    They weren’t just moving together.


    They were reacting to each other’s instincts.


    Axel grinned.


    “Alright, Tempo. Let’s see what we can do.”


    Tempo grinned back.


    And then they moved.


    Axel feinted to the left, forcing Rook to adjust—


    Tempo leapt up, grabbing Axel’s wrist mid-motion, using the momentum to launch himself at Rook’s head.


    Rook barely dodged. “Whoa-hoh! Now we’re talking!”


    Axel didn’t stop. He twisted his hips, Tempo flipping midair, landing on Axel’s outstretched arm, then kicking off like a springboard.


    This time, he aimed for Rook’s legs.


    Rook had to jump back.


    And that?


    That was the first time he’d moved defensively.


    Axel’s pulse spiked.


    Holy crap. This was working.


    <hr>


    The Power of Improvisation


    For the next two minutes, Axel and Tempo experimented.


    Rook kept attacking, adjusting, adapting, but so did they.


    Tempo’s movements were fluid, constantly reacting to Axel’s instincts. He wasn’t just following orders—he was reading the rhythm of the fight, adjusting their tempo like a song.


    And the craziest part?


    Axel felt it too.


    Every time he moved, every time he shifted his weight or adjusted his footing, Tempo’s body mirrored him.


    It was seamless.


    Rook noticed.


    And for the first time, his grin widened.


    “Well, damn,” he muttered. “You might actually be fun to train.”


    Axel didn’t have time to feel good about that.


    Because Rook’s entire demeanor changed.


    <hr>


    The Wall


    Axel saw it in half a second.


    One moment, Rook was toying with him, keeping his strikes controlled, manageable.


    The next—


    The baton whipped toward Axel’s ribs.


    It was twice as fast. Twice as sharp.


    Tempo screeched in warning—


    Axel tried to move—


    Too slow.


    The baton connected.


    Not hard enough to break anything—but enough to send Axel stumbling back, gasping.


    Pain shot up his side.


    And just like that—


    The momentum was gone.


    Axel sank to one knee, gripping his ribs.


    Tempo chattered worriedly, circling him.


    Rook twirled his baton. “And that is your first real lesson.”


    Axel gritted his teeth. “The hell was that?”


    “The Wall,” Rook said simply. “Every fighter has one. That moment when your instincts stop working. When the enemy speeds up just enough to shatter your rhythm.”


    He crouched beside Axel, grinning.


    “You and Tempo? You’re built on improvisation. Fluidity. Adapting to the beat of the fight.”


    He tapped Axel’s forehead.


    “But what happens when the beat changes?”


    Axel’s breath slowed.


    He wasn’t sure if Rook was testing him or mocking him.


    Either way—


    He wanted to break through that wall.


    <hr>


    The Aftermath


    Rook tossed the baton aside, stretching. “That’s enough for today. You didn’t die, so I’d call that progress.”


    Axel groaned. “I can’t tell if you’re a genius or a lunatic.”


    Rook grinned. “Both.”


    Tempo hopped onto Axel’s shoulder, patting his cheek like he was applauding his effort.


    Axel sighed. “Great. Now even my own Cipher Beast is judging me.”


    Rook cracked his knuckles. “Same time tomorrow, kid. Try not to suck as much.”


    Axel rolled his eyes, but as he stood up, a thought nagged at him.


    This was the first time since he’d bonded with Tempo that he felt like—


    Like maybe—


    He wasn’t as screwed as everyone thought