Kael's body screamed with every step. Muscles burned, lungs ached, and the ground blurred beneath his feet. Sweat poured off him in waves as he forced his way through the final stretch of the 10-mile run. His shirt clung to him, soaked through, as the academy walls came back into view.
He collapsed near the edge of the training field, chest heaving, arms spread.
"I'm… going… to die," he whispered.
[Incorrect. Vital signs: stable. Slightly above stress threshold. Continue.]
Kael groaned.
Push-ups came next. Then sit-ups. Each rep was torture.
Each breath a war.
But he finished.
Every. Single. One.
And then he lay there, broken and trembling, the early dawn bleeding into full daylight.
From the tree line, Feyla watched.
She said nothing, but her brows drew together as Kael curled his fingers into the dirt.
Why does he push himself this hard?
She stepped closer but stopped before he could see her. Her fingers curled at her side. Something about him—this strange, stubborn blank—felt different now.
He wasn't like the others. And she didn't understand why.
Back on the ground, Kael heard the voice.
[Level up: Training Mode unlocked.]
No celebration.
No fireworks.
Just a new challenge waiting in the dark.