Chapter 135 — Learning to Stand Again
S.C. 1511 — Early March
Foosha Village — Underground Lab (Chemical Chamber)
Ren braced both hands against the cold stone floor.
His breathing had steadied.
His vision no longer blurred.
But every sound still felt too sharp, like the world was scraping at the inside of his skull.
Zemo nudged Ren's arm gently, tail low, eyes filled with worry.
Ren ran a shaking hand over the fox's head.
"…I'm not dying. I just need… control."
His voice came out hoarse.
He tried to stand.
His legs trembled instantly.
Zemo bit onto Ren's sleeve and pulled upward—helping him rise inch by inch.
The moment Ren stood fully upright, the entire lab expanded around him.
Sounds came from everywhere—
drips
tiny insects
vibrations in the stone
footsteps far above the ground
the distant hum of the wind passing over the cliff entrance.
Ren covered one ear, then the other—pointless.
The noise wasn't external.
It was perception.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing all attention inward.
"Focus… reduce… isolate one sound at a time. Not everything."
He targeted Zemo's breathing first.
Slow.
Steady.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He imitated the rhythm.
Then he widened his awareness slightly—
only to the lantern flame wavering in the corner.
Then a bit more—
the faint echo in the corridor.
He stopped there.
Any more and the noise slammed his mind again.
"…Better," Ren whispered.
Step Two — Vision Control
He opened his eyes slowly.
This time, he didn't let the whole room rush in.
He focused on the crack in the floor a few steps ahead.
Only that.
Then he allowed his sight to widen enough to include the table leg.
Then the wall.
He forced the rest away.
The world dimmed into a manageable picture, not the overwhelming overload from earlier.
Still too sharp.
Still unnaturally clear.
But usable.
"Okay… I can work with this," Ren murmured.
Zemo sat beside him, head tilted.
"You're fine. I just… have to learn how to see again."
Step Three — The Mental Storm
The thoughts still buzzed.
Not external ones—those he had forced into a distant static.
These were HIS thoughts.
His mind kept computing things automatically:
the density of the rock
the exact angle of the lantern flame
structural stress on the ceiling
oxygen percentage in the room
chemical residue diffusion rate
Z-05 dust particles spreading pattern
heat loss through his shirt
pulse rhythm
weight distribution
sound reflection angles
the amount of calcium in the stone wall
the possible causes of his enhanced senses
the symptoms lining up with neuro-overactivation
the chance of long-term side effects—
Ren pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Stop overthinking…" he muttered.
The thoughts didn't stop.
His brain processed continuously, faster than he could speak or react.
He had to impose order manually.
"Focus on one task."
The storm slowed slightly.
"One task at a time."
Slower.
Zemo barked—loud, but not painfully loud anymore.
Ren exhaled.
"That's manageable. Good."
Step Four — Telepathic Noise
He didn't want to test it.
But the faint emotional hum around the village was still leaking into his mind.
No words.
No clear sentences.
Just small flashes of feeling when he wasn't perfectly focused:
A sleepy villager.
A mother's worry.
A man annoyed about a broken barrel.
A faint memory of someone thinking of Makino's stew.
Ren shivered.
This part scared him the most.
It felt wrong—like standing in a room full of whispering people he couldn't see.
When his focus slipped, their faint emotions flickered again.
He forced it off like closing a door.
"…No. Not now."
He leaned against the table, breathing carefully.
"I need control before I even touch this ability again."
The Lab Reminded Him
He slowly forced himself to look at the remains of the shattered tray.
Black streaks of chemical residue.
Scattered Z-05 dust.
Powder from his half-finished stimulants.
Compound X droplets forming a faint discoloration on the stone.
Ren rubbed his temples.
"Whatever that was… I should have cleaned the table first."
He crouched beside the mess, analyzing the darkened smear.
It looked harmless now.
Stable.
No fumes.
No heat.
But whatever reaction had happened…
It went straight into his body.
He touched his chest.
The skin felt normal.
But the inside?
Completely different.
Zemo sniffed the smear carefully.
Ren gently pushed him back.
"Don't touch it. We don't know if it's toxic."
Zemo obeyed immediately.
Ren used a scrap cloth to wipe the floor, then sealed the residue in a clay jar for later analysis.
Trying to Walk Outside
Ren moved toward the exit tunnel.
His balance was strange—he felt every tiny shift in weight, every grain of sand.
He steadied himself on Zemo whenever the noises rose or his vision sharpened too suddenly.
After a few minutes, he managed to reach the outer chamber.
Cooler air flowed in.
He closed his eyes—too stimulating—and just breathed.
Slow.
Steady.
His heartbeat settled.
Zemo curled around his foot protectively.
Ren placed a hand on the fox's head.
"…Thank you. I'm okay now."
Not fully.
Not even close.
But enough to function.
Enough to think.
He opened his eyes again, carefully narrowing his focus.
The world stayed manageable.
"Step by step," Ren whispered.
Zemo wagged his tail weakly.
Ren took one more slow breath.
"Tomorrow… I'll figure out what happened."
But for now—
He just needed the world to stop spinning.
End of Chapter 135