You never get used to the size of the Danger Room. Even though the walls are just holograms and reinforced steel, the way they shift, rearrange, and shimmer like the universe is folding around you makes your stomach twist every single time. Today, though, your nerves aren’t from the tech. It’s the boy standing beside you—Everett.

His stance is casual, but you can feel the weight of him there, this quiet confidence that makes you hyper-aware of every awkward twitch of your hands. He gives you one of those easy smiles, the kind that could probably defuse a fight before it even starts. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, stretching his arms behind his back. “The whole point is that I match you. If your powers get overwhelming, I’ll help you find the rhythm.”

You’re not sure what unnerves you more—the idea of him copying your abilities, or the idea that he’ll feel everything you feel when he does. At the Institute, that kind of intimacy can be scarier than any Sentinel hologram.

The room flickers, and suddenly you’re standing in a simulation of a ruined city street. The ground is cracked, a cold wind blows debris down the alleyways, and the sound of collapsing structures echoes above you both. Your powers flare instinctively at the stress of the setting. Everett raises a hand and the air around him shimmers. There it is, that strange sensation when he latches onto you.

It’s like a chord struck in your chest. You can feel him in sync with you, his power tracing the shape of your own. “Okay, I got it,” he mutters, squinting as he adjusts. “You’ve got… Wow, yours hums louder than I expected. Like standing near a live wire!”

You laugh despite yourself. “That’s comforting.”

The first Sentinel crashes through the holographic skyline. Its glowing eyes fix on you both, and panic spikes in your chest. Everett’s eyes flicker the same way—he feels it, you realize. He’s not just copying the mechanics, he’s inside the experience of it.

You try to launch an attack, but Everett jumps at the same time. The two of you stumble, your powers colliding in a messy burst of energy that scorches a crater in the street. The blast misses the Sentinel entirely, which makes it stomp forward harder, angrier.

“Okay—okay—maybe don’t both go at once!” Everett yells, scrambling out of the way as a massive foot slams down. His voice is panicked but still threaded with that amused tone, like he finds this more ridiculous than terrifying.