Adam started with the simplest idea.

If an object was moving, could he copy that moment?

He cleared one side of the room, placed a folded blanket against the lower part of the wall, and picked up a small rubber practice ball. The ball was not dangerous by itself. That was why he chose it first.

He also moved the table aside and checked the window latch twice. The apartment was not soundproof. If he broke something too loudly, a neighbor might come to complain, and that was the last thing he needed while testing a power no one should see.

So he started small.

He threw it hard toward the blanket.

The moment it crossed the middle of the room, he reached out and touch on it.

"Copy."

The ball struck the blanket and dropped.

Adam looked at the inventory.

The copy was there.

He raised his hand toward the wall and said, "Paste."

The copied ball shot forward instead of simply appearing in place. It hit the blanket with a dull thud and bounced back.

Adam’s eyes sharpened.

So movement could be stored too.

He tried it again, this time with a heavier rubber ball. Then he tried a small metal washer and placed a thicker stack of cloth against the wall in case it came back too fast. Each time, the object appeared with the motion it had carried when he copied it.

The result was useful, but not enough.

The rubber ball bounced. The washer struck the wall through the cloth and left a thin scratch, nothing more. If he wanted this to become a real weapon, he needed a much stronger source of speed or a denser object.

He tried changing the angle too. When he copied the washer while it was still rising, the pasted copy flew upward more than forward. When he copied it just before impact, it released with more direct force. That told him the timing mattered.

The power was not reading his intention alone.

It was saving the state.

That made the test more useful than it first looked. A normal object was weak because his arm was weak compared to a real launcher, but the rule itself had opened. If he found a faster source later, or a heavier shape that could survive the release, the same trick might become dangerous.

For now, though, it was only a beginning.

The idea was still good.

If he could store a small object with enough motion, then as long as his stamina lasted, he could fire it again and again like a poor man’s gun.

But poor was the problem.

He needed power.

His eyes moved toward the inventory slot that held Electric Spark.

Adam had avoided using it for a long time because it was his emergency card. But an emergency card that he did not understand could kill the wrong person.

He raised his hand toward the empty side of the room, selected the spark, and imagined it releasing straight ahead.

"Paste."

The sound cracked through the apartment.

A bright electric line jumped out, but it did not go where Adam aimed. It snapped to the side and struck the wall near the shelf. A black mark spread across the paint, and the smell of burned dust filled the room.

Adam jerked his hand back.

"Shit."

He stared at the mark.

For a second he did not breathe.

The spark had been small compared to real lightning, but inside the apartment it sounded much larger than he expected. It had snapped like something alive. Even the air felt different for a moment, dry and sharp.

He walked to the wall and touched the black mark only after waiting a few seconds. The paint had roughened under his fingers. It was not a deep hole, but it was enough to show that this was not a harmless flash.

If he had used that in Unit 14 when Bruno had a gun near Kenji, the spark might have hit Kenji instead. At range, the direction was not reliable. It followed its own path, maybe toward a surface, maybe toward whatever it could jump to first.

That made it dangerous in the wrong way.

Adam brought a small wooden box from the corner and placed it on the floor. He did not aim from far away this time. He put his palm against the side of the box and selected Electric Spark again.

He breathed once.

"Paste."

The impact cracked through the wood.

One side of the box split open. A black burn spread around the place where his palm had been, and small pieces of wood scattered across the floor.

Adam pulled his hand back and looked at the result.

Close contact was different.

The box had not merely burned. The side had broken inward, as if the spark had punched through before leaving the scorch behind. That meant the effect was not only heat. It had force too, at least when the target was close enough.

At close range, the spark did not wander as much. It pushed straight through the object he touched. If he used it on a person from that distance, the result would be terrifying.

But that also meant he had to be close.

He looked at his hand again.

The spark had not come from the center of his palm exactly. It had formed a little ahead of it, as if the power projected the copied thing a short distance away from his body. That was useful. It meant he did not have to burn his own hand every time.

Still, it was not safe enough.

The projectile test was weak. The electric test was powerful but unstable. Both could be improved, but neither could be trusted blindly yet.

That was the real lesson.

The power could become a weapon, but only if he understood the rules better than the enemy understood the danger.

Adam cleaned the bigger splinters from the floor, then looked at the black mark on the wall.

That mark was going to be a problem.

He let out a slow breath and touched the burned wood with two fingers.

The power was not just storage.

It was a system of rules he had barely started to understand.