Kael jolted awake, drenched in sweat, the memory of Nathan's fire-drenched demonstration still etched into his mind. The faint echo of flame still tickled his fingertips, but it faded as he sat up on the edge of his academy bed.
He rubbed his temples.
His body was sore—bone-deep sore—but something inside him stirred.
"I need to go back in," he muttered to himself, glancing at his hand as if hoping to spark a flicker.
Before he could dwell on it, a cold beep echoed in his mind.
[System Routine: Begin Daily Physical Training]
[10-mile run | 100 push-ups | 100 sit-ups]
He groaned and glanced at the clock.
4:00 AM.
"Back to normal," Kael whispered.
Then he grumbled, "What did I do this time?"
[No punishment. Just improvement.] Nathan's voice responded with that casual, haunting calm.
Kael shook his head, stood, and got to work.
—
The morning passed in a blur of aching limbs and heavy breathing. He pushed himself across the academy's perimeter trail, muscles burning, the ghost of shadow fire whispering beneath his skin. Push-up after push-up. Sit-up after sit-up.
When he finally collapsed on the training mat behind the dorm building, the sun had only just crested the horizon.
His stomach was empty, but his mind was full.
Nathan had shown him something unreal.
Now, Kael wanted it.
He just didn't know if he could reach it.
—
Later that morning, class resumed.
Today's session: Basic Ability Control, led by Instructor Velar—a tall, steel-eyed woman who spoke with sharp efficiency.
"The foundation of all combat ability is control," she barked. "Fire. Water. Wind. Earth. We begin again. Mastery starts with precision."
The students lined up in rows. Small practice stations were set with target dummies, rocks, and water orbs suspended in the air.
"No weapons," Velar reminded. "Abilities only. Any match or overuse will be stopped by us instructors. Healers and medics are on standby. You are all valuable… for now."
Kael stood near the back.
Still sore.
Still focused.
As others practiced launching water jets, forming gusts, and cracking rocks with earth pulses, Kael clenched his fists and concentrated.
Just a flicker.
Just a spark.
And there—small red embers danced around his fingers.
Nothing flashy.
But it was something.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the bullies watching—especially the main one who had humiliated him before. Their gazes were sharp. Expectant. But Kael showed nothing beyond those quiet flickers.
He wasn't ready to reveal what he'd seen.
What he'd felt.
Not yet.
As the lesson ended, Velar clapped her hands. "Tomorrow begins your sparring assessments. A mock championship. Prepare to fight. Pairs will be drawn. One winner per round. The rest… will observe."
She smiled coldly. "It will prepare you for your next off-planet mission. If you survive that long."
Kael exhaled slowly.
Fighting? Publicly?
Against classmates?
His heart thudded once.
Then he glanced at the embers still faintly glowing in his hand—and closed his fist.
Let them come.