The sun was just beginning to rise over the academy walls, casting long golden rays across the training courtyard. Kael stood in the shadowed corner of Zone C, arms crossed, his body still aching from the previous day's punishment run. The skin on his palms tingled faintly—residue from his earlier mimicry.
Across from him, Feyla stood calm and steady. Her blue braid was damp again, her posture elegant and focused. The early chill of morning didn't seem to touch her.
"You ready?" she asked, tossing him a small towel. "You look like you slept on a spike mat."
"I feel like it," Kael muttered, catching the towel with a tired smirk.
"Then today's a good day to learn," she said.
They began slowly. Feyla explained her approach—how water wasn't about force, but about feeling. "I sense it here," she said, placing a hand over her side. "I form the energy there, like a pulse, and guide it out. You have to connect with it, not command it."
Kael tried.
Again and again.
He focused. Reached for the ember. Pulled from the memory of heat. He clenched his fists. Opened his hands. Focused harder.
A flicker.
A twitch of red.
And then—nothing.
His brow furrowed. Sweat ran down his back.
"You're overthinking," Feyla said gently. "It's not supposed to be forced."
"It's not even mine," he muttered, low enough that she couldn't hear.
To Kael, it was like pulling on smoke. The power—this dark fire—wasn't his. It responded like an echo from someone else's voice, not a song of his own. That made it slippery. Unstable.
The most he could do was get faint embers to dance in his fingers—and even those vanished too quickly.
Feyla offered kind encouragement, but Kael felt it—a weight pressing down on him.
A familiar one.
Failure.
"Maybe I'm just a blank," he said as he collapsed onto the grass, staring at the sky.
Feyla's footsteps paused.
She turned but didn't speak. Her eyes softened as if to say something—but then she only nodded once and walked away.
Kael was left alone with silence.
Until—
[Training session missed. System override: Compulsory training initiated.]
The text blinked before his eyes in the HUD he alone could see.
"Wait—what?" Kael sat upright.
[Commencing discipline.]
A jolt ran through him—a painful shock from within. It wasn't enough to scream, but enough to double him over.
"Nathan!" Kael gasped. "What was that?!"
[Motivation.] Nathan's voice echoed casually. [Improvement requires pressure. You failed today's session. Compensation required.]
New text appeared.
[Complete: 10-mile run | 100 push-ups | 100 sit-ups.]
Kael groaned. "You're punishing me?"
[No. Just improving you.]
And with that, the system timer began counting down.
Kael looked toward the forest trail, then down at his still-shaking hands.
"Back to normal," he muttered—and began to run.