After a hearty breakfast—or whatever passed for "breakfast" in that place—Cael woke up at full throttle.
Or at least… he was supposed to. The universe, in its eternal stubbornness, still bet he could be something other than a coward.
"I can't believe I ate a giant larva… just now…" he muttered between burps, face twisted in regret. He smoothed the new outfit: a white cloak that draped down to his feet. "At least they gave me a uniform…"
"It's not a uniform!" the brute corrected him, dry. "That's just the leftover robe… You only get the real thing after finishing basic training!"
"Don't kill my vibe, man..."
"Well, now that you've faced your own failure, it's time to manifest your Echo."
"Now we're talking! Finally gonna teach me a badass move!" He was buzzing with excitement, though the bitter taste of cowardice still lingered in his mouth… or maybe that was the worm.
Larvae, insects… that was all that grew and thrived in this world. Hunger wasn't in the stomach—it gnawed at your soul from within the bones.
"A trick? No, no…" The brute laughed. "Just believe you can, and your aura will manifest."
"What? What about acceptance? Existential crisis? The epiphany?"
"That?" He shrugged. "That was just my condition to teach you something so dangerous."
"What?!" he barked. "You mean I didn't need to go through all that?"
"Exactly."
"Oh, you son of a…!"
"Doesn't matter now, right? I did you a favor. So thank me by showing me how your Echo manifests!" he said firmly. And as he spoke, a gust swept through the space and his scarlet aura exploded around him—vibrant and alive. "Color doesn't matter. What defines you is the form. That's what reveals your unique ability!"
"Okay… okay… just gotta believe I can, right?"
"Exactly..."
He took a deep breath. Closed his eyes.
"I'm badass. I'm the shit…"
The brute raised an eyebrow.
"I'm the best… I can do this… I got this!"
And then—it appeared. A flickering aura, trembling like fire, deep purple, almost ethereal.
The boy opened his eyes and smiled, smug.
"Hehe… well? What do you think?"
"Terrible." Cold as someone judging lukewarm water. "It manifests well… for a beginner." The smile vanished instantly. "But there's no intention of greatness. It's like saying things just to say them… no way that'll give you a real expression of power."
"What? Are you serious?" And poof, the aura dispersed like smoke in the wind.
"See? Try again."
"Hm… alright, alright…" He clenched his eyes shut and flooded himself with another stream of self-praise—and voilà, the aura returned.
"Still unstable..."
"Damn it!"
And again.
And again.
And again.
After an hour and a half, sweating and panting, he finally managed to hold it in place—unstable, but decent.
"Good, good!" the brute clapped, finally satisfied. "Now, I need to teach you how to manifest an ability. And also how to use that aura."
"Use it?" He could barely speak, thirsty and exhausted.
"Yes. With it, we can reinforce the body, amplify the senses, recover vitality, regenerate wounds, prolong life, and a few more tricks…" he said casually, like listing breakfast items. Then he pointed a finger at him. "And there's no better way to teach… than through pain!"
"Pain?" He squinted.
It all happened fast.
A blast hurled him violently against the walls surrounding the place. He didn't even see it coming, just felt the dull thud, the metallic taste in his mouth, and blood dripping.
"This is Yesod, the stage where the basic ability manifests. In my case, a blast of wind. The lamest fraction of my Echo!" he explained like a bored teacher while Cael struggled to breathe. "If you were a normal human, without aura… you'd be dead."
"Dead?!" He clawed at the ground with trembling fingers. "Fuck…" And when he looked back, he saw the wall: cracked like glass under pressure.
"You just took the impact of winds exceeding six thousand terawatts… around 460 miles per hour. Know what that would do to your planet?"
"Uh… no?" He spat out more blood than he thought he had.
It felt like his organs had turned to mush.
Ah, the classic—master teaches, student nearly dies.
Ancient tradition.
"It would wipe out entire cities… strip the earth's crust."
"So… you're saying I'm stronger than the earth's crust?"
"More resistant," the brute corrected, letting out a long sigh—the kind that carries years of tested patience.
Is he stupid, or is this the factory model of the human species?
He wondered, almost pitifully.
"But… if it would do all that, why didn't it destroy anything here, huh?" Cael narrowed his eyes, suspicious.
"Here, the ground is up to ten million times more resistant. The Intermediate World is naturally shaped to contain beings of our level."
"Ahhh… got it, got it…" he nodded, faking full comprehension. "So Blondie was right…"
"Blondie?" The brute raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah… he said he was gonna blow up my world."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" He laughed like he'd heard the joke of the century. "And you doubted him? The Boss is one of the Fifteen most powerful beings of this era. If he wanted to, he could turn the entire multiverse into charcoal… with a flaming burp!"
"What do you mean? Multiverse? That's real? I thought that was like… Marvel comic stuff."
"It's real! Just not the way you imagine. And look… we haven't destroyed it yet because, when two beings of equivalent level fight, reality itself bends—they create a Chaos Domain. A temporary bubble, where everything gets distorted… but that's veteran stuff. You and me? Fresh meat with expired IDs."
"Shit… right, right… so, uh… how do I use this aura then?"
The brute laughed again, lighter this time.
"You already did."
"What do you mean?"
"You're in pain? You're bleeding, but you're still in one piece, right? Breathing? Look at that, you're back to 100%."
"Uh… what?"
"Your body, unconsciously, used the aura to protect you. It's like an immune system. Not everything happens through thought… sometimes, it just happens."
Cael looked at his own body. Not perfect, but there. Alive. Functioning.
"Cool… I thought I'd have to manage everything…"
He laughed awkwardly, like someone who just discovered fire. Or the wheel.
What a bastard… How far is he gonna mess with me?
"Afraid of responsibility? Think you're not capable?"
Cael bit his lip, holding back an impulsive answer. He felt that pressure—that constant expectation of being something more, something different from what he'd always been. But once again, he was thrown into this situation.
"No, forget it… so… how do I do it, ouch?"
"Do what?"
"The… Iesuadi. Right?"
"Ahhhhh, Yesod?" He paused dramatically, hands on hips. "First, you'll need to understand how to manifest an ability."
He clearly liked making things difficult on purpose, to test him—like Cael was some kind of pet project.
But he was willing to understand—or at least try.
"It's like an echo in a cave… First, you gather the energy, at the origin, deep inside you. Like a core…"
Cael furrowed his brow, listening closely.
"Spiritual energy condenses, like a note of music played in silence… then you emit it, feeling its vibration, its intent. That's the first step."
"Mhm…"
"The origin is inside you, but then you need to release it. Make it spread around you. It's not just about control… it's about letting the sound of your Echo travel."
"Let the sound spread?"
"Yes. It should spread through the environment, molding to the technique. The propagation defines how the Echo will behave. How it reaches the target—or not. How it manifests."
"Like an explosion? Or just a wave?"
"Depends. Propagation adjusts. You have to let the energy shape itself—it'll look for a point of contact. Once it finds it, the Echo will reflect—but that's where the stability of your technique is tested. That's the tricky part."
"Reflection?"
"Yes. The world will react to your energy. You'll notice it gets amplified—or even distorted—by interacting with other forces or the environment. That's when you find out if your technique is harmonious or a mess."
He grimaced.
"That's the hard part…"
The brute smiled, sensing his frustration.
"Don't worry. Here comes the good part… The return phase. The energy you released—it comes back, in part. You can absorb it again or it might cause a rebound. The return gives you control—the chance to adjust. Or maybe… the chance to expand the technique with what came back, creating a new momentum."
He tried to follow. He felt like he was still far from fully understanding, but already felt the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. It wasn't just about what he'd do with that energy—but what he'd become by unleashing it.
"And in the end?" he asked, voice already showing signs of fatigue.
"In the end, perception. What do you feel? What does the world feel? You'll understand the technique through its effects. You'll sense if it worked—or if something's out of tune. Perception is the final adjustment, and what will make you grow… but it's also what will make you fail—cruelly."
"So, that's it?" He looked ahead. "I just need to believe in myself and let it flow?"
Asael laughed, shaking his head.
"Oh kid… it's never just that. But it's a start."
And once again, time came to go to work… He walked off, and tomorrow would be yet another day in the hellish training marathon to come.