Back in the infirmary, Hartman hovered over you like an anxious stormcloud. Pulse paced near the wall, fuming.
"They threw you in with him?" Hartman asked. "Already?"
You lay on the medbed, silent.
That shadow... wasn't just fast. It was invisible to your senses. Even when you saw it, your power couldn't copy it. Like it moved outside of your rules.
"He didn't show up on heat scans," Pulse muttered. "Even the cameras showed static during your test. That wasn't part of the schedule. Voss went off-book."
Hartman nodded slowly. "She's field-testing you like a weapon."
You sat up, breathing slowly. "What was he?"
Hartman frowned. "Codename: Phantom. No official record. We think he was an early Echo prototype. Something went wrong. He doesn't mimic—he erases."
You stared. "Erases?"
"Powers. Signatures. Sometimes people. He's off-the-grid by design."
Pulse leaned forward. "You said your power adapts, right? Then you need to start learning from absence, not presence."
"What?"
He tapped your forehead. "You rely on energy input. But what if you studied the void? The lack of data? The gaps?"
Your eyes widened slightly.
"...Negative space."
Hartman added, "We've got training logs from Black Widow and Daredevil. Both fought by feeling opponents who didn't make noise. Maybe you can't copy Phantom's powers—but you can train your instincts."
You nodded slowly. "Okay. No more reaction. No more mimicry. Just anticipation."
Hartman smiled. "Exactly."
⸻
That night, you entered Echo's black zone—"The Vault."
A zero-tech, zero-sensor combat dome buried miles below sea level. No cameras. No comms. No energy readings. Just silence.
You stepped inside alone.
Then...
The lights went out.
You stood still.
Waited.
Nothing.
Then—movement.
You dropped, instinct guiding you, as something sliced through the air above your head. No warning. No signal. Just pure attack.
You rolled, twisted, and launched a strike behind you—where you felt the presence would be.
Nothing connected—but you heard something shift.
The Phantom was here again.
Your muscles tensed—but this time, you didn't think. You didn't analyze. You listened.
Not with ears.
With your energy memory.
The static that never sparked.
The air pressure that suddenly dropped.
The wrongness in your environment.
You struck again. Still missed.
But closer.
Another strike—then a feint. A counter.
You took a hit—sharp, clean—but you turned with it. Let it guide you. Like riding a current.
Then you moved through it.
And for a split second—you saw him.
Not fully. Not clearly.
But his shape flickered.
You launched all the stored electricity you had left—straight into the space his energy should have occupied.
A scream.
The dome lit up. Phantom staggered—briefly visible—electric arcs dancing across his armor, revealing a silhouette.
You advanced—faster than you'd ever moved—electric Adapted Form blazing to life.
[CURRENT STRIDE: STABILIZED – PHANTOM LOCK DETECTED]
Your system recognized it.
You'd adapted.
You struck with precision. Three rapid blows—center mass, shoulder, jaw.
Phantom dropped to one knee.
Before he could vanish again—you stopped. Fist raised.
"You're not unreadable anymore," you said.
He looked up slowly. "Then maybe you're ready."
He vanished again.
But this time—you could feel him leave.
Not just a ghost.
An opponent.
One you could finally chase.
⸻
Back in the observation deck, Voss reviewed the data. Hartman stood beside her, arms crossed.
"No sensors worked," he said. "No cameras. But he still learned."
Voss didn't look away from the screen. "He's not just adapting to power anymore."
Hartman nodded. "He's adapting to absence. To the unseen."
Voss's lips twitched.
"Then let's show him what's coming next."
On her screen was a file—marked:
[TARGET ALPHA-01: COPYBREAKER]
Status: Active. Mission: Terminate Subject Echo-17]