G.R.O.W.T.H

~ Monday – 6:45 AM – Ethan's Pov ~

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The weekend had disappeared in what a normal person would describe as a blur of code, combat, and a WHOLE lot caffeine...

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, running a towel through my damp hair, eyes flicking over my reflection. I didn't look different. Not really.

Same dark hair, same brown eyes, same face that wasn't mine but was slowly starting to feel like it.

But beneath the surface?

I could definitely feel the changes.

It had only been two days, but my mind felt sharper, more wired. Every spare moment was spent learning. In fact, I made sure to go over another video on how to code just an hour ago. To be honest, it's been pretty fun.

Still, If I wasn't watching martial arts tutorials, I was spending most of my time studying coding. If I wasn't going through Vance Tech databases, I was pretty much just shadowboxing in my living room, testing some of the movements I'd picked up from Ryan, and then do some body weight exercises.

And the weird part?

It wasn't even overwhelming me. I got headaches here and there, but nothing really major, or at the level that would actually halt me. Plus, I was genuinely enjoying myself in the process.

It was all simple, to me.

Not in a way that made sense—not in a "this is normal" kind of way. My body was absorbing fighting techniques quicker than I thought it would have, which is pretty great in my book. But, since I've had more knowledge on the former, my mind picked up on coding structures that should've been too advanced for someone with my supposed skill level, at least, I thought so.

It wasn't instant though, nor was I a master it. But, ever since I actually learned, it was becoming slightly, easier to me... Turns out I had a pretty good head on my shoulders.

In fact, it felt like both my brain, and body were kind off, adapting, weirdly enough.

And I had no idea why... I wasn't going to complain though.

I exhaled, tossing the towel aside. It was Monday again. Back to work. Back to pretending I was just Ethan Vaughn...

I glanced at my phone—6:47 AM.

Plenty of time to make it in on time for once.

I grabbed my bag and took one last look in the mirror...

Two days. And already, I wasn't the same person who walked into that office last week...

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~ Monday – 7:25 AM – Vance Industries ~

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'Phew~'

The elevator doors slid right open, and I stepped into the familiar, glass-and-steel maze that was Vance Industries... The air smelled faintly of polished floors, they must have gotten it cleaned, then the scent of fresh coffee, and the distinct scent of just sheer corporate exhaustion.

But today felt different. For one, I wasn't late for work.

For another?

I felt like I actually knew what I was doing, or at least what I was about to do.

I took my time and walked through the office, nodding slightly at the few coworkers I recognized from my-Ethan's, memories... making my way toward my desk with actual purpose this time. No hesitation. No confusion. Just... some level of normalcy.

I set my bag down, powered on my workstation, and immediately got to work.

And for the first time since I woke up in this life?

I didn't need Ryan's help.

I ran system the necessary diagnostics. Checked all the error logs I could spot. Reviewed code structures. And not just randomly clicking things until they kind of just, work—I actually understood what I was looking at. And it felt darn, good.

Every line of code, every system function, every command made sense in a way it didn't last week Friday. I was still a little unsure about myself, but at least I could somehow do the basics...

It's not perfect. Not instant. But definitely easier.

I was still focused on debugging a software patch when I heard someone drop into the chair next to me with an exaggerated sigh.

Ryan.

"Okay, what the hell is going on with you?"

I blinked, glancing up. "Huh?"

He gestured at my screen. "You're working. Like, actually working. By yourself. No sighing, no asking me for help, no pretending to look busy while I cover for your ass. What gives?"

I smirked slightly. "What? Can't handle me actually pulling my weight?"

"Oh, no. I'm thrilled!" he said, throwing his hands up. "Shocked, sure. But very much thrilled my little friend. Still, I gotta ask—did you hit your head over the weekend? Somehow sell your soul? Make a deal with a tech monster? 'Cause I swear, last week you barely knew what even a function loop was, and now you're out here actually coding?"

I leaned back slightly, stretching my fingers. "I've been learning." Though, I've got to admit, it wasn't entirely well, me. I've recovered some of my memories when studying, and it kind of just clicked for me as well. So I'm glad for that. 

Plus, learning something you genuinely want to is, much better than learning things you don't, it's actually massive difference to be frank. it's easier and far less cumbersome on the mind.

Ryan squinted at me. "Bullshit. You hate learning."

"I hated school." I corrected. "This? This is different."

Ryan scoffed. "Okay, Mr. Philosopher. What, did you wake up one day and suddenly decide to become a coding genius?"

"Not a genius," I said. "Just… improving. Admittedly, a bit fast." If I was a genius, I would've been a pro over a single night. Now I felt I was just competent enough.

Ryan narrowed his eyes, studying me. "Alright, spill it. What have you been doing?"

I exhaled. "Well... I've just been reading up on the basics of coding. Watching tutorial videos. Overall, practicing I guess."

"Practicing," Ryan repeated flatly. "Since when do you voluntarily practice anything?"

I laughed, "Since now."

Ryan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Huh. So you went from slacker to overachiever in two days?"

"I wouldn't go that far, but you could look at it that way." I muttered.

"Nah, man, this is just, weird." He pointed at me. "You're telling me you just sat at home all weekend, studying coding for fun?"

I hesitated.

Technically… Not just coding.

I glanced around, making sure no one else was listening before lowering my voice. "Not just coding. I've also been… learning how to fight."

Ryan's eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah."* I shrugged. "Watched a bunch of martial arts tutorials, because.. Why not right?. Studied some techniques. Practiced a bit of the movement I saw in the videos."

Ryan gawked at me like I'd just grown a second head. "Bro. You got into one creepy situation last week, and now you're out here training to be Jacki-Chan?"

"Not Jackie-Chan" I muttered. "Just… someone who doesn't want to get caught off guard again, or even potentially."

Ryan let out a low whistle. "Damn. Whatever that guy did to you must've really rattled you, huh?"

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair; I realize I do that often when I'm nervous for something... "Let's just say I don't like feeling utterly helpless."

Ryan was quiet for a second. Then—

"…So, how's it going?"

I blinked. "What?"

"The fighting?" He leaned forward slightly, looking genuinely curious now. "You actually picking it up?"

I hesitated before nodding. "Yeah. I mean, I'm nowhere near good, but… I'm getting the hang of it. Every time I practice, it feels a little easier."

Ryan stared at me. Then he let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "Man, you really don't do things halfway, huh?"

I motioned a no, "Guess not."

"Well, crap. Guess that means I gotta start throwing real punches next time we spar."

I huffed a small laugh. "As long as you don't break my nose."

"No promises."

We sat there for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling into something lighter, which was good.

For once, Ryan wasn't mocking me. He wasn't teasing or calling me crazy. He was just… listening.

And the fact that he wasn't weirded out by my sudden progress?

Plus, that made me feel a little less weird about it, too.

"Alright." Ryan said, standing up and stretching. "Well, keep it up, I guess. Just don't start wearing a gi to work. I'd actually die of secondhand embarrassment."

Alright; I've got to admit, that was kind of funny, "Damn. There goes my plan."

He snorted, "Back to work, nerd." walking off, leaving me staring at my screen, again...

I flexed my fingers slightly, 'Two days.' That's all it had been. And already, things were getting just a tiny bit easier on me. When I get home today, I'll make sure to work as hard as I could this time around, it's certainly better than just slacking off.

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~ Monday – 6:00 PM – Ethan's Apartment ~

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'Home sweet home...'

The second I stepped through the door, I kicked off my shoes, tossed my bag onto the couch, and let out a deep, exhausted sigh. My body sank into the cushions, my head tipping back as I stared up at the ceiling.

The day had been... fine. Normal, even. If you could call any of this normal. Honestly, I still wasn't exactly used to my current predicament yet, but I'm getting there...

A week ago, I was fumbling all over myself through work like a total imposter. Today, I actually functioned like a guy who belonged at Vance Industries now. That alone should've been enough to freak me out.

But I didn't have time for that, do I?

I groaned, rubbing my face. "One hour. Just one hour to exist before I start this all over again."

My apartment was quiet. No blaring sirens outside, no neighbors stomping around upstairs. Just the faint hum of the city in the distance and the sound of my own breathing...

For a moment, I let my body relax...

Then, my brain decided to ruin it. I flexed my fingers absently.

They didn't really feel that tired.

I had typed all day, stared at screens, handled system updates, and worked my brain like it was some overclocked processor—yet I didn't feel worn down, at least not much.

If anything, I felt wired. My muscles itched for movement. 

I sighed, "Alright. Break times over."

As I thought, it's around 7:00 PM so that means coding time. I quickly got to and sat at my desk, fingers already flying over the keyboard before I even thought about what I was even doing.

The second I started, everything else faded. The stress, the questions, the weird feeling that had been nagging at me all day—none of it mattered when I was working through lines of code.

I forced myself to slow down, to be deliberate. Not just following tutorials like a zombie, but actually thinking through why each function worked the way it did.

A few times, I got stuck—ran into a bug I couldn't immediately fix.

Frustration prickled at my nerves. I hated getting stuck.

I ran my fingers through my hair, muttering to myself. "Come on, what am I missing here?"

My eyes flicked across the lines of code again. Then again.

Almost as if something clicked.

I adjusted a single line and ran the program over again... The error, just well... disappeared.

I blinked. "Huh?"

I sat back, tapping my fingers against the desk. That had been a little... fast.

Not really instantly solved, not really the pretest execution ever, but a whole lot faster than I think it should've been.

My brain was picking things up quicker than it had any right to. I frowned slightly, slumping my shoulders.

'Weird...' I shook it off and got back to work.

Two hours practically vanished.

I slightly stretched, cracking my neck before switching gears.

Laptop closed.

Phone in hand.

'Video time.'

I pulled up some Muay Thai drills first. Footwork, striking mechanics, defensive techniques. I watched them all closely, as possible eyes tracing every movement, every shift in stance. Doing this helps to build my mind, and help condition it for battle and exercise.

As the instructor explained the mechanics behind a proper jab, I found myself mimicking it without thinking much—shifting my shoulder, extending my fist, keeping my chin tucked.

I switched it up to a bit of boxing.

Then even a bit of kickboxing.

Each technique built on the last on the last one.

I mumbled under my breath while I tried following along; "So, if I pivot on the ball of my foot like this... and if I bring my guard back fast enough, I don't leave much of an opening..."

Every time that I replayed a movement in my mind, it felt a little less awkward when put to the test. Like my body had already started connecting the dots before I even got up.

After doing that for a while, I checked the time, "Sheesh... It's 9:30 PM already?"

Enough theory. Time to actually move.

I got up, and in another motion began my stretches, I do this for a few minutes before I exercised.

After exactly 5 minutes of stretching; I dropped to the floor, steadying myself.

First, a plank. One minute. Core tight, breathing steady. My body wanted the strain, the challenge.

Then, push-ups. Slow, as controlled and steady as I could possibly make it. My arms literally burned, but I didn't stop there of course, it meant the workout was actually doing it's job so far.

Next were squats. Legs strong and firm, feet grounded, posture solid.

And last but certainly my least favorite, core work. My stomach hated me, but I pushed through it...

Then came the fun part.

I stood up, rolling out my shoulders. Striking drills.

I started off slow.

A simple jab.

Another.

Then a cross.

Jab, cross. Jab, cross. Over and over, until the rhythm felt somewhat natural to me.

I slowly adjusted my stance a bit.

A left hook.

Then another.

I shook out my arms, stepping back. "Okay... Now some kicks."

I set up my stance, pivoted, and threw a low roundhouse kick. It felt clumsy, but the mechanics were right.

Another kick.

Then another.

Each time, it all flowed much better as time passed.

I wasn't inherently fast, nor was I strong... But, I was learning. I quickly wiped off all that built up sweat from my forehead, realizing that my chest rising and falling much harder now.

'Hmmm...'

My body still felt like mine. But at the same time... it didn't. I flexed my fingers a bit, staring at them.

'Seriously; What the hell is happening to me?'

I wasn't just getting better at these things.

I was definitely picking them up quickly too... was I just really that talented at this? Or is this just a fighter's version of noobie gains? And I had no idea why it's even happening either. It's not like I'm progressing super quickly, but the changes were enough to be visible, even if they're little.

I exhaled, shaking off the thought.

'No point in really overthinking dude.'

I grabbed a towel, wiping my face as I headed toward the shower.

Whatever this was? I'd eventually figure it out at some point. But for now? I'd just keep going. in the mean time. Plus, I'd even want to go over even a bit of Vance's database when I get some more coding practice in my system.

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END