Chapter 9
Date: April 20, 1990
Location: St. Augustine's Orphanage, London
David sat cross-legged in the small patch of sunlight that fell through his dormitory window, focusing intensely. The steady hum of his telepathic protection order lay in the back of his mind, a quiet but comforting presence that kept his thoughts shielded and secure. He was getting used to the sensation — the slight buzz that reminded him he only had one free order at any given time.
This meant he had to be strategic. One order, with limited time, and it needed to count.
He took a deep breath, considering his options. His recent stamina and lung training had been a huge help, but he knew there was more he needed to do. The MCU was a world full of incredible people, some with reflexes, strength, and speed far beyond his own. He'd need to be agile, faster in his reactions if he was going to survive.
David clenched his fists, focusing his energy, and said softly, "I… have enhanced reflexes."
The familiar warmth pulsed through him, and he felt his body attune to the order. Every movement, every muscle felt sharper, more responsive. He began a series of simple exercises, testing his reaction time. He dropped a pencil, watching how his hand shot out to catch it before it hit the floor, far faster than he could have managed before.
He repeated the exercise several times, each time marveling at the immediate increase in his reaction time. His hands moved swiftly, his balance felt more stable, and his movements flowed together seamlessly, almost like second nature.
But he knew he had to be careful with this order. As soon as he released it, he'd go back to his regular six-year-old body, and each activation drained a bit of his energy. He decided to push himself further, getting accustomed to the speed and sharpness, honing this reflex order while he could. With each practice session, he was learning not only how to perform specific skills, but how to manage his energy more efficiently. Every drop counted.
After about half an hour, he released the order, the buzzing sensation fading from his limbs. His body returned to its usual state, slower and less precise, and fatigue crept over him like a wave. The shift back was always disorienting, a reminder of just how much he was asking of himself.
Just as he finished, a knock sounded on the door. David quickly shook off the exhaustion and opened it to find Mrs. Carmichael standing there, arms crossed but with a gentle smile.
"David, I heard you've been practicing music more often lately," she said, raising an eyebrow. "You know, we have a little recital coming up for the children. Would you like to perform?"
David blinked, caught off guard. He hadn't anticipated performing in front of people, but it was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. If he played well, it would keep suspicion at bay and allow him to practice his focus under pressure — something that would be crucial in the unpredictable world he was preparing for.
"Yes, I'd like that," he replied, keeping his tone enthusiastic.
Mrs. Carmichael smiled, patting his shoulder. "Good. Practice hard, and I'm sure you'll do great."
As she left, David returned to his room, his mind already racing. This would be his first time performing in front of a group since arriving in this world. He'd need to be careful not to overuse New Order, but he was determined to use this experience to push his limits even further.
End of chap.