Chapter 133 - Pangea (XII)

Alonso frowned slightly. Keep going like this? What was the problem?

"Alonso, you're getting addicted to full Overdrive," Houston’s voice was stern, unyielding.

Huh?

"Listen, Houston, we’ve been through this. I’m using full Overdrive because it’s the fastest way to get stronger, to finish fights faster, to push my wave control higher,” Alonso shot back. “Look at the stats yourself—my focused wave can already surpass Siddharth’s without your help.”

"Without my help?” Houston’s voice turned cold. “Do you even understand why our merging rate’s dropping?"

"I don’t know, you tell me. You’re slacking off?"

"Slacking off?" Houston practically sputtered, incredulous. "Me? Slacking off? Do you even realize who’s keeping everything running? Who the hell do you think has kept you alive all this time? I manage Overdrive, I alert you to every damn threat, keep track of time, location, your training, Phase 2, Phase 3, and stay focused on top of your reckless style. And I… am slacking off? You’re an ungrateful brat!”

"A brat? Come on. You’re just a part of me, Houston—a glitch in my brain or whatever. Schizophrenia? Dissociative identity disorder? Call it what you want. And now you’re lecturing me?"

"The fact that your so-called rational side, aka me, is lecturing you says everything. You’re losing yourself, Alonso. Open your eyes—"

“Open my eyes to what, Houston? Blood? Brain matter splattered everywhere? People trying to kill me? The hate in their eyes? I know what I’m doing. I’m not weak enough to fall into addiction—I walked into this willingly. I control it. I enjoy it. I feel alive. Do I want to be at 60% all the time? Yes, I fucking do. Can I? No, I can’t. Do I? No, I don’t. Do I use it in the volcanic region? No, I don’t. Did I spare someone who tried to kill me, even in full Overdrive? Yeah. So, addicted? No. I like it.”

Houston remained silent for several seconds.

“You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re right; I’m just a voice in your head. Maybe if I just vanish, it’ll all be better, won’t it?”

Alonso exhaled, scratching his head in frustration. “That’s… that’s not what I meant,” he muttered. “Houston, you’re me, okay? Another version of me, or whatever, but you’re here. Right now, you’re all I’ve got. Sure, I may have talked more shit than usual just now, but… damn it, it’s you and me in this dead land. I just want you to understand me. I’m using full Overdrive, but I know when to stop, when to push. What’s the problem in enjoying it?”

“Alright… let’s say you’re not addicted. Fine. Now listen,” Houston’s tone shifted, sharp and direct. “Here are the changes moving forward. Listen carefully, because I won’t repeat myself.”

Alonso raised an eyebrow but just nodded, staying silent.

“One, I’ll no longer speak with you except during rest times.”

“What?” Alonso burst out, standing up.

“Please, let me finish. You can comment at the end.”

Alonso opened his mouth, then shook his head and sat back down.

“Two, you’ll handle Overdrive yourself from now on—”

“Wha—”

Alonso was about to object when Houston sent a wave through his mind. “Feel that? Try to replicate it. Increase its amplitude.”

Alonso was initially confused but then sensed a subtle, steady pulse in his mind—small but distinct. As he focused on it, it grew, and with it, his awareness sharpened, each detail around him coming into vivid clarity. This was Overdrive’s controller?

“You feel that?” Houston’s voice was calm. “That’s your lever for Overdrive. Think of it as the accelerator in a car. You push, and I increase the Overdrive percentage. The acceleration’s fast; you can go from zero to 60 in an instant. Same for reverse. But no matter what you try, it won’t go beyond the max limit.”

Realization dawned on Alonso. He closed his eyes, testing this new control, feeling the wave surge as he pushed. Instantly, the breeze felt sharper, the scent of the earth richer.

Fascinating. But wait… what was the difference between this and regular communication… oh…

“As you’ve probably guessed, this setup will make transitions in Overdrive smoother and entirely under your control,” Houston continued. “You don’t need me to trigger it or adjust. You can now shift up or down from 60% without worrying about the decoupling threshold. From here on, we’ll function as if we’re always decoupled. I won’t talk to you, and you won’t talk to me. You’re now in charge of the entire spectrum, whether fighting, running, or anything else.”

He paused. “And you’ll also be able to dial it back to save energy when there’s no need to go full throttle—though, somehow, I doubt you’ll find much use for that as you are now.”

Alonso’s brow twitched, his lips pressing into a thin line. But he said nothing.

"Three, you don’t need to worry about Phase 2 and Phase 3 anymore. For you, they no longer exist, at least not as they were. I’ll manage something similar in the background to assist you, but think of it as a passive skill if anything. You won’t tell me who to scan, and I won’t inform you of the progress or gains. I’ll apply it when I find it suitable, if I think it can help and match your style."

Alonso remained thoughtful, gazing at his blurry reflection in the sword’s blade.

"Four, the merging rate is decreasing because I’m finding it harder to keep up with you as of late. But as you said, that’s my problem, and I’ll fix it. Treat it as a bonus for your pulse output, just as it’s displayed on the status screen.”

"Five, your swordsmanship and footwork are getting worse because you’re fighting more recklessly—thinking less, relying on raw strength and speed over technique. It’s not a major problem yet, but I’d suggest that once you max out the region’s stage progress, take some time for proper training. Find your own style and build on it."

"Six, besides the status screen, I’ve set up two other coded signals in your head. Read my thoughts, and you’ll understand how they work. Basically, one’s a clock, the other’s a map. I’ll update them whenever I can, so don’t ask me for time or location; it’s all there. I’ll still use waves to monitor the surroundings, but I won’t alert you. You need to start doing that yourself. Use your threads—or whatever you’re calling them now—and send high-frequency waves to scan the area. Learn how to analyze vibrations in the air, in the ground—everything, just as you did back then. Be alert, because I won’t be there to save you like with that slingshot."

Alonso sighed and decoded the two signals, seeing a clear visualization of the 3D map and digital clock overlay. He hadn’t realized Houston had put so much work into this.

"And seven, and last… I’d prefer not to mess with your personal issues, but since I’m you, I’ll say it. Don’t let others dictate your actions. If you care about Ayu, why push her away? Because you’re afraid others will hurt her because of their hate for you? Because you fear she’ll have to choose between them and you? Well, let her decide. Screw what Chiara said. She’s not the one holding the reins—you are. Strength is all that matters in this place, and you’re at the top of the food chain. As for her, she’s just a pathetic excuse for a leader. So… do whatever you want, Alonso, and don’t suffer needlessly over things you could fix. Maybe it won’t be easy, but you can.”

Alonso’s eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. He frowned, his gaze distant and unfocused as the words sank in, leaving him unsettled and speechless.

“Well, that’s it. Do you have anything to say?” Houston’s voice sounded calm, though there was a faint trace of agitation beneath the surface.

“I… well, that’s a lot to take in,” Alonso replied, his voice low, gaze distant as he processed everything in silence. After a few seconds, he spoke again. “So, we won’t be talking until the next break?”

“Yes. Until your next rest, treat me as if we’re decoupled. As if I don’t exist. I’ve given you all the tools you need. Now, do whatever you want, Alonso.”

Alonso sighed, slightly shaken. “Do you really think it’s necessary to go this far? Is this your solution to my so-called addiction?”

“Addiction? No, of course not—you’re in control, aren’t you?” Houston replied, his tone slightly mocking. “And now, I’m giving you full control. I’m no longer your copilot. Now, I’ll just be the occasional mechanic that tunes the car. Or, as Da—, as some would put it,” he paused, “I am the car.”

Alonso shook his head, glancing up at the bright sun. He stood, stretching his limbs.

“Thanks, Houston. I’ll miss your nerdy quips.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy the hunt.”

And then… I was left alone.