Battle Of Planets
Chapter 82: seven power points!

Chapter 82: seven power points!

A few moments ago,

Tyson and Alex reclined within their individual metal pods, attached to their Meta-bots, as the infusion process commenced. Purple power surged steadily along the heavy cables, injecting raw energy from the stones into their suits.

A few meters behind them, a team of scientists closely monitored their vitals on large digital monitors. They eyed the fluctuating data, keeping track of the Meta-bots’ body temperature, heart rate, and energy absorption rates.

At first, all replicated Edward’s previous enhancement session. Readings were constant, and the subjects reacted as expected. Then—something changed.

Alarms blared as Tyson’s data spiked wildly. His heart rate soared, blood pressure rose, and energy absorption rate skyrocketed. Unlike Alex, whose vitals stayed within expected limits, Tyson’s screams pierced through the pod’s containment, his voice reaching outside.

The lead researcher’s eyes grew wide with alarm as the figures on the screen swayed beyond expected limits.

"This. This can’t be right," he stuttered, his hands racing across the console as he attempted to scan the anomaly.

"What’s going on?" Edward’s voice was clipped, requiring an answer.

"We don’t know!" the researcher confessed, his breathing accelerating. "This wasn’t supposed to occur—Tyson’s Meta-bot is drawing energy at an exponential rate!"

The screen flashed as a new warning message popped up—Tyson’s pod was drawing his assigned share of energy and Alex’s as well.

"He’s drawing from Alex’s infusion!" another scientist shouted. "It will affect his power development if we don’t step in."

The purple aura building around Tyson’s pod was something they had never witnessed before. The Meta-bot was exceeding its programmed capabilities. The readings didn’t just indicate a normal boost; they showed something more.

Something no one had anticipated.

"Should we stop this?" Edward’s voice was worried.

"We can’t," the lead researcher responded swiftly, his eyes fixed on the fluctuating data. "If we interrupt the process now, it could cause more harm than we can predict. The sudden energy cutoff might destabilize his Meta-bot—or worse, his body."

A loud alarm sounded from the center of the room.

"Sir, we must replace the power stone!" a subordinate cried, pointing toward the containment unit.

Every eye turned to the core energy source—a massive purple power stone at the center of the infusion process. Cracks radiated across its surface, and energy seeped out in wild pulses. In contrast to Edward’s enhancement, which was a constant, controlled process, Tyson’s Meta-bot devoured power at an unsustainable rate.

"Do it," the project leader ordered. "But be careful. We can’t afford any disruptions."

Technicians rushed to replace the failing power stone, moving with precision and urgency, aware that a single misstep could jeopardize everything.

Nancy’s nails dug into her palms on the other side of the glass as she watched Tyson convulse in pain. His body arched against the restraints, his armor flickering between phases, unable to stabilize. Her breath caught in her throat.

"There’s something wrong with his pod," she stammered.

Her instinct screamed at her to run inside, to stop this madness before it was too late—but she knew she couldn’t. She was powerless, forced to watch the person she loved endure unimaginable pain.

A warm yet firm grip settled on her shoulder.

"He’ll be fine," Seraphina said,

Across the room, Edward stood stiff, arms crossed, his expression inscrutable. He had experienced this—felt the raw, searing pain of the enhancement. But witnessing his sons endure it, knowing he couldn’t intervene, was a different kind of torment.

And then, just as abruptly as it had started, the pain ceased. The energy steadied. The hum of the chamber gradually faded into silence.

The lids of the pods hissed as they slid open, releasing a dense cloud of smoke. For a moment, no one moved. The entire lab remained still, holding its breath as two figures emerged—no longer the same men who had entered.

Alex stepped forward, his armor humming with raw energy. His smirk grew wider as he flexed his fingers, feeling the power flow through him. He clenched his fists, relishing the staggering boost of five power points in just minutes.

He has advanced from 23 to 28,

He did it. He surpassed Blue or not.

He sensed the difference, how his body reacted to the surge, how his Meta-bot pulsed in harmony with his very essence. It wasn’t merely an external upgrade—it was something deeper. More primal. He had reached another milestone, and the thrill of it sent a shiver down his spine.

The researchers had warned them—this process was unlike anything they had encountered before. Only those with exceptional endurance who aimed to stand at the peak could absorb five full power points without experiencing rejection. It wasn’t merely about empowering the Meta-bot. The infusion process compelled the body to accept the energy at a fundamental level, merging man and machine in ways that had never been attempted before.

Similar to a blood transfusion, a body can only endure so much before it fails. Only those capable of sustaining themselves amid the overwhelming burden of power will attain the peak.

And Alex did exactly that.

He turned to his side, where Tyson stepped forward, still silent. Something was different about him. His Meta-bot flickered with an energy unlike before—unstable, unreadable.

Once the smoke cleared completely, the room fell into a stunned silence again.

Because while Alex had gained five power points...

"I g-got Seven power points?" Tyson mumbled.

"What the hell did you just say?" Alex turned to him, confused. That’s not possible; the highest one could attain was five power points. Even Victor said that was the maximum anyone could reach. But Tyson... he claimed he managed to gain seven freaking power points?

He watched through his display, standing stunned.

Tyson has advanced from 17 to 24,

Edward gazed at Tyson, still attempting to grasp what he had just seen. "You alright?" he inquired.

Tyson nodded hesitantly, still uncertain about what had just occurred. He felt... different, but he couldn’t articulate it. His body felt light yet charged, as if every fiber of his being had been rewired.

Before he could dwell on it, the lead researcher stepped forward, almost pushing Edward aside, his eyes wide with fascination as he examined Tyson’s Meta-bot and armor.

"Are you feeling anything strange? What did you do inside the pod? Please tell us everything."

Tyson blinked and took a step back. "I... shouted?"

The room descended into an awkward silence. Gradually, the researchers shared glances and shook their heads, with some even chuckling.

He honestly had no clue.

It was evident that Tyson had accomplished something extraordinary—something even General Edward hadn’t—but the young man himself appeared utterly oblivious to it.

"How on earth did he get seven points?!" Alex interjected, his voice filled with frustration. "Did you all do something to him?"

The lead researcher shook his head. "No. Tyson... he was like a sponge in water."

"What the hell does that mean?" Alex scowled.

Before anyone could react, a blur of motion collided with Tyson.

Nancy.

She threw herself into his arms, clinging to him as though she feared he might vanish. Her breath trembled against his chest, and her fingers tightened around his armor.

"Thank goodness you’re okay," she whispered.

Tyson scarcely acknowledged her words before he felt a faint pulse on his chest. His Meta-bot blinked once, twice—then fell completely silent.

As soon as Nancy hugged him tightly, Tyson’s armor retracted, letting her press against him directly. He smiled and kissed her head. "I’m fine."

Edward raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Your reaction time is excellent."

He witnessed it occur in an instant—how Tyson’s Meta-bot retracted just before Nancy embraced him. Edward thought Tyson had sensed her approach and ordered it to retract. However, the reality was different.

"It wasn’t me," Tyson said, looking down at his chest. "It was Whitey. He did it by himself."

The room fell silent for a moment.

"That’s impossible," an engineer finally said.

"They don’t have their own will," another person added. "Meta-bots are just machines."

"Even the most advanced ones don’t operate independently," the lead researcher remarked, looking at Tyson with skepticism.

Tyson frowned. "Mine does."

Nancy leaned back a bit, her eyes moving to the Meta-bot. "Really?"

"Yeah! Watch this." Tyson patted his chest. "Hey, Whitey, are you listening? Show them what you can do."

Nothing at all. No flicker. No response.

Alex smirked and shook his head. "You’ve officially lost it."

Seraphina embraced Alex, holding back a laugh.

"Guys, I swear," Tyson insisted. "Whitey does his own thing! He just did it a second ago!"

The Meta-bot stayed silent as if it had never done anything at all.

Nancy smiled, gently placing her hand on the device. "Tyson, stop it. You don’t need to make things up."

Edward chuckled. "We believe you, son, even if you’re deceiving us."

"I’m not lying!" Tyson groaned, frustration edging into his voice as the group burst into laughter.

Alex shook his head. "I guess Whitey’s dead."

Tyson scowled at his chest, muttering under his breath. "You better stay dead, or I’m going to kick your ass."

But deep inside, he knew what he had felt. His Meta-bot do respond on its own.