48 – A Part of HistoryHector breathed a sigh of relief as the locker room door shut with a resounding clang and the noise of the convention hall faded to a muted roar. The crowd had been enthusiasm incarnate, and though he’d been shielded by the barriers, people had surged against them, clamoring for photos, fist bumps, and handshakes. Hector had obliged at first—more than he’d wanted to—but in the end, he recognized the futility of trying to please everyone and pulled his track suit’s hood up, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and pushed his way into the locker room.The space was quiet; none of the other fighters from earlier matches had lingered, which made Hector wonder if security had cleared them out. Whatever the case, he was glad for it. He went into one of the shower stalls, tossed his duffel on the bench and stripped down, ready to soak up some hot water and try to focus on the job ahead.Despite his determination, as he stood under the steaming water streams, his mind kept drifting back to the fight, primarily focusing on his utter loss of control. He hadn’t fought like that—fully seeing red with no inkling of reason left in his mind—since he was a teenager. Years and years of hard work in the Imperial Guard to build discipline and then his time with the Invicti—all gone in the blink of an eye thanks to one ability. Berserk was powerful, but Hector didn’t like what it did to him.Will that ability get better? Am I always going to lose control?//I’m sorry, but that’s unknown to me. We’ll need to explore pathways, advance levels, train abilities, and—//“Start looking for a merger or a more advanced archetype. I need to maintain control.” Hector spoke aloud, his face down, water drumming against his scalp.//I will do so. You may need to take some levels in Berserker for—//“Start the process.”//This will cost 30 potentia. Please confirm.// (...)