Chapter 13: Atrium of threads
The next morning, Liam woke to the heavy thud of Dreck's boots echoing down the hall.
A sharp knock rattled his door.
"Up. Now," Dreck barked.
Liam swung his legs out of bed, muscles protesting from the intense session the night before. He welcomed the soreness. It was proof he was changing.
Pulling on a plain training shirt and pants, he hurried downstairs.
Dreck waited by the front door, tossing him a small pack.
"Eat on the way," he said. "We're training somewhere new today."
Liam caught the pack and followed without question, scarfing down a protein bar as they stepped into the cool morning air. The sun had barely begun to rise, casting long shadows across the ground.
They walked in silence for a while, the streets still asleep.
Then Dreck led Liam off the pavement, down a narrow dirt trail Liam had never noticed before. Trees loomed on either side, thick and gnarled, swallowing the light.
A strange tension buzzed in the air, raising goosebumps on Liam's arms.
Finally, they reached the edge of a clearing. But instead of stopping, Dreck moved toward an enormous stone statue hidden deep within the woods — ancient, cracked with age, yet humming with a quiet, thrumming power Liam could feel in his bones.
"What is this place?" Liam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dreck approached the base of the statue. Hidden within the weathered surface was a narrow seam. He pressed his hand against it — and with a low rumble, a concealed door slid open, revealing a shadowed passageway inside the monument itself.
Without a word, Dreck stepped through. Liam hesitated only a moment before following.
Inside, the air felt thicker, denser with energy.
The walls were carved with strange symbols that seemed to pulse faintly as they passed.
The tunnel opened into a massive hidden chamber — a place no casual wanderer could ever find.
At the center of the chamber, ancient stone tiles stretched out in a perfect circle.
"This," Dreck said, his voice low with reverence, "is the Atrium of Threads."
Liam blinked.
"The... what?"
Dreck gave a rare, almost reverent smile.
"An old training ground," he said. "Built by those who understood that strength isn't just muscle and speed. It's connection. Precision. The invisible threads between intention and action."
He turned to Liam fully, eyes hard.
"Today, you start learning how to see them."
Before Liam could ask what that meant, Dreck drew a small object from his belt—a disk no bigger than a coin. He pressed it into the center of the stone floor.
With a grinding click, lines of faint light spread outward from the disk, carving intricate patterns across the stone in shimmering silver.
The ground around them shifted, and a dozen thin poles rose silently from hidden slots in the floor. They wobbled slightly, flexible and unforgiving.
Dreck nodded toward them.
"Your task is simple," he said. "Move through the field without touching a single pole."
Liam stared. The poles were spaced barely a foot apart—some closer. Navigating through them seemed impossible.
"But," Dreck added, "there's more. Every time you move, the field will change. Poles will shift. Threads of energy will form between them."
He knelt, tapping the stone.
"You'll have to feel the threads. Predict the shifts. Adapt before you see them move."
Liam's mouth went dry.
"This... this is insane."
Dreck chuckled, that familiar glint of challenge in his eyes.
"Good. It means you're paying attention."
He straightened up, folding his arms.
"You have until sundown to make it through once. No shortcuts. No tricks."
Liam set his jaw, fists tightening.
"Alright," he said. "I'm ready."
Dreck simply pointed.
"Prove it."
Liam stepped forward, heart pounding. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the strange energy pulsing around the field.
Somewhere deep inside, something stirred—a whisper of awareness he had only barely begun to tap into.
He took a breath.
Opened his eyes.
And ran.
The first few steps were easy. He twisted, ducked, leapt—avoiding the poles with quick reflexes. But then—without warning—the entire field shifted. Poles slid sideways with smooth, mechanical grace. Thin strands of shimmering light snapped between them, crisscrossing the space in unpredictable patterns.
Liam stumbled, barely avoiding a collision. He froze for a split second, mind racing.
Feel it. Don't just look. Feel.
Closing his eyes for a heartbeat, he stretched his senses outward.
There.
A tension in the air—a pressure that hinted where the poles would move before they did. The "threads" Dreck had spoken of.
He pivoted, stepping into the flow rather than fighting it. His body twisted, weaving through gaps that hadn't existed a moment before.
Sweat poured down his face. His breath burned in his lungs.
But he kept moving.
Behind him, Dreck watched with a guarded smile.
He's starting to get it, he thought. He's starting to see.
The world blurred around Liam as he ducked under a thread of energy that shimmered like a spider's web, pivoting hard to avoid a pole that swung inward at the last second.
His muscles screamed. His lungs felt like fire.
But he refused to stop.
Step, twist, duck, leap—
Every movement demanded perfect control. Perfect instinct.
The field shifted again, faster this time. The poles moved like living things, sensing hesitation, punishing doubt.
A thread grazed his sleeve—just a whisper of contact—but immediately the poles snapped tighter, the difficulty increasing.
You touched one, Liam realized grimly. And now it gets worse.
Gritting his teeth, he dropped into a low roll, slipping under two converging poles, then sprang back to his feet, barely avoiding a luminous thread that buzzed inches from his face.
It wasn't just about speed anymore.
It was about rhythm. Timing. Trusting the invisible patterns that his eyes couldn't fully see yet.
His legs buckled once, but he caught himself.
He pushed forward.
Each breath was a battle.
Each step was a war.
---
Hours passed, though Liam could no longer tell how many.
The sun climbed overhead, merciless and bright.
Again and again he was forced back to the starting point—brushed a pole, snagged by a thread, thrown back to begin anew.
Again and again, he charged forward.
Until—
Finally—
He crossed the last invisible thread and stumbled out of the field, collapsing to his knees.
His body was shaking violently. Sweat soaked his clothes. His vision swam.
But he was through.
He had made it.
He lifted his head, blinking up at Dreck who stood at the edge of the clearing, arms folded, expression unreadable.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then Dreck gave a single, sharp nod.
"Good," he said simply. "You bled for it. You earned it."
Liam tried to respond, but only a croaked rasp came out.
He coughed, struggling to his feet.
Dreck moved closer, his voice dropping low.
"You felt it, didn't you?" he said. "The currents. The shifts. You stopped thinking like a bystander and moved with the threads."
Liam nodded weakly.
"I... I think so," he gasped.
Dreck's mouth twitched in the hint of a smile.
"Think nothing," he said. "Feel everything. That's the path you're walking now."
He knelt, placing a hand on Liam's shoulder—not rough, but firm.
"You're not just learning how to fight, Liam. You're learning how to live in a world where the invisible matters more than the visible. Where strength is built not in muscles—but in awareness. Connection."
Liam's heart hammered, not from exhaustion this time—but from the weight of the words.
A thread had been pulled tighter inside him today. A thread he hadn't even known was there.
He straightened slowly, meeting Dreck's gaze without flinching.
"I'll keep going," Liam said, voice raw but sure.
"I'll master it."
Dreck's smile sharpened.
"You'll do more than that," he said. "You'll surpass it."
He turned away, beckoning Liam to follow.
"Come. There's one last thing you need to see."
---
They walked deeper into the hidden chambers inside the statue, where the carvings grew more intricate, almost alive.
At last, they reached a smaller sanctum — a circular room at the heart of the monument.
In the center stood an ancient stone monolith, covered in beautiful, shifting symbols that shimmered faintly in the gloom. Strange, powerful symbols that seemed to hum in time with Liam's heartbeat.
Liam's breath caught.
Without thinking, he stepped forward, drawn by the subtle pulse of energy radiating from the stone.
Dreck's voice stopped him.
"Not yet," he said quietly.
Liam froze.
Dreck stepped beside him, his eyes shadowed by something close to respect—and something heavier, almost sorrowful.
"One day," Dreck said, "when you're ready, this will answer you. But if you touch it before you're prepared... it will destroy you."
Liam swallowed hard, the weight of the warning settling deep in his bones.
He stepped back, bowing his head.
"I'll be ready," he whispered.
Dreck watched him for a long moment, then nodded once.
"Good," he said. "Because the world you're about to face won't wait."
---
Across town...
Kaela stood atop the old clocktower roof, the wind whipping her hair around her face.
Lucas stood a few paces behind her, arms crossed, watching silently.
Below her, a dozen small metal spheres floated in the air—each one darting, weaving, spinning unpredictably.
Her challenge was simple:
Hit them.
All of them.
Before they hit her.
Kaela tightened the wrappings around her fists, narrowing her eye
s.
"Whenever you're ready," Lucas called.
Kaela didn't answer.
She simply stepped forward—and jumped.
[End of Chapter 13]