Because...
Because everyone leaves eventually.
The memory flooded back. Fourteen years old. Standing in his family's manor. His parents—wealthy, respected, pillars of community—staring at him with cold eyes.
"You want to be a disciple? Fine. But don't expect to come back here. We won't have our reputation stained by association with... that."
That. As if being Awakened made him less than human.
They'd chosen social standing over their son. Status over family. And Kaël had learned: people leave. Everyone leaves. So you hold on tight. Make yourself indispensable. Joke. Lighten the mood. Make them need you so they can't abandon you.
But it was exhausting. Constantly performing. Always checking. Waiting for the moment when they'd realize he wasn't worth keeping around.
Sanctus's voice was infinitely gentle:
"I will never abandon you. Never leave. Never forsake. You don't need to earn My presence. You already have it. Forever."
Kaël felt his armor crack.
The constant need for validation. The desperate clinging. The fear that he was one mistake away from being discarded—it had become a pillar. The foundation of his personality.
But Sanctus was offering something different. Not conditional love that had to be earned. But absolute love that couldn't be lost.
Kaël wept. Not quiet tears. Deep, wrenching sobs that shook his entire frame.
And as he wept, power filled him.
His core ignited. Same transformation Dante was experiencing.
Kaël's world became electricity.
It started as a tingle. Then a burn. Then agony.
His scream echoed through the valley—raw, primal, terrified. His body seized, every muscle locking simultaneously. He fell backward off the rock outcropping, hitting the ground hard.
Didn't matter. Couldn't feel it. Could only feel the storm inside him.
His spiritual core exploded into overdrive. Not fire like Dante's. Lightning.
Blue-white electricity arced across his skin. Not his aspect manifesting. This was different. This was his body being reforged by pure spiritual energy. Every cell screaming as it was torn apart and reconstructed.
The air crackled. Actually crackled. Static electricity so intense his hair stood on end. The rocks around him began to glow—not from heat, from the sheer electromagnetic charge saturating everything within ten meters.
8.0...
Kaël's back arched off the ground. His hands clawed at the earth, leaving gouges. The stone beneath him spiderwebbed with cracks that glowed electric blue. Lightning without source, without target, just raw power bleeding into the world.
8.5...
His eyes snapped open. Electric blue. Glowing. Sparks literally dancing in his pupils. Tears streamed down his face, evaporating instantly. Steam rose from his skin.
***
9.5...
Dante's eyes snapped open. They glowed. Actually glowed—silver light spilling from his pupils like something divine had taken residence behind his gaze. Tears streamed down his face, evaporating before they could fall, turned to steam by the heat pouring off his skin.
The ground beneath him spiderwebbed with cracks. Small stones lifted, hovering, trembling in the air around him. The pond water began to churn, bubbling like it was boiling though the temperature hadn't changed.
10
ASCENDED RANK.
The transformation hit its peak. Every muscle in Dante's body locked. His scream cut off—not because the pain stopped, but because his lungs couldn't draw breath. For three eternal seconds, he was frozen. A statue of agony carved from flesh and desperation.
Then—release.
The energy exploded outward. A shockwave of pure spiritual pressure that flattened grass, sent ripples across the pond, scattered birds from trees a hundred meters away.
Dante collapsed forward onto his hands and knees. Gasping. Shaking. Alive.
His hands looked the same. But they weren't. Everything was different. Stronger. Denser. More. He could feel it—power flowing through channels that hadn't existed five minutes ago. His spiritual awareness had expanded. He could sense things he'd never noticed before. The life in the trees. The water in the pond. The very earth beneath him.
He looked at his hands. They were shaking. Not from weakness. From containing strength his body was still learning to hold.
"Holy..." he whispered. His voice sounded wrong. Deeper. Resonant. Like it carried weight now.
He tried to stand. Failed. Tried again. Made it halfway before his legs gave out. Third try—he stood. Wobbly. Unsteady. But standing.
The clearing looked like a bomb had gone off. Grass flattened in a perfect circle. The fallen oak split clean through. The pond water still rippling from waves that had no natural source.
Dante looked at his reflection in the water. His eyes no longer glowed, but they were different. Sharper. More focused. Like he could see through things if he tried.
Ascended, he thought. I actually did it.
***
The fear Kaël had been wrestling with—the abandonment, the desperate need for validation—it was being burned away. Not erased. Transformed. Reforged. The pillar he'd built his identity on was shattering, and in its place...
10
ASCENDED RANK.
The transformation peaked. For one infinite moment, Kaël became light itself. Pure electric fury given form. Every nerve ending fired simultaneously. His scream reached a pitch that shattered small stones around him.
Then—silence.
The electricity dissipated. The glow faded. Kaël collapsed, gasping, shaking.
But alive. More alive than he'd ever been.
He lay there for long minutes, just breathing. Every breath felt like the first breath after drowning. Everything was different. Sharper. Clearer. More.
He could feel it—power humming through him like a live current. Not overwhelming. Just... there. Waiting. Ready.
Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself to sitting. Looked at his hands. They sparked. Little arcs of electricity jumping between his fingers without conscious thought. His aspect had always been lightning. But this was deeper. This was lightning woven into his very cells.
He tried to stand. Failed. Laughed—breathless, half-hysterical. Tried again. Made it to his knees. Third try got him upright, swaying but standing.
The rock outcropping where he'd been sitting was split clean through. Scorch marks radiated outward in a perfect circle. The grass around him had been flattened by pressure that had nothing to do with wind.
"Holy shit," he whispered. His voice sounded different. Charged. Like electricity wrapped around every word.
Ascended. I actually... holy...
***
They staggered through the forest separately, neither knowing the other was there.
Dante made it maybe fifty meters before he had to stop, lean against a tree, just breathe. Everything was too much. Too intense. His senses had been dialed up to eleven and he was still learning how to process the input.
Kaël collapsed twice before reaching the forest edge. His legs wouldn't cooperate. Too much power, body still adjusting. He sat against a boulder, head between his knees, trying not to throw up.
Neither made it back to the academy that night.
They found sheltered spots—Dante in a hollow beneath an overturned root system, Kaël in a small cave barely big enough to lie down in—and simply... existed. Too exhausted to move. Too transformed to sleep.
By dawn, they were both functional enough to walk. Barely.
They emerged from opposite sides of the forest as the sun broke the horizon. Covered in dirt. Clothes torn. Eyes haunted but alive with new power.
"You too?" Dante's voice was hoarse.
"Yeah." Kaël's smile was genuine. Not the performance. Just real. "Hurt like hell."
"Absolutely."
They stood there for a moment. Then Dante spoke quietly:
"I'm sorry. For the northern mission. For not listening. For almost getting us killed because I needed to be right more than I needed to be wise."
Kaël held up a hand. "Stop. I forgive you. And I'm sorry too. For making everything about my need for validation. For putting that burden on you. For constantly seeking reassurance instead of trusting what we already have."
Dante nodded slowly.
Something had shifted between them. The tension that had built since the ambush—dissolved. Not because mistakes were erased. But because they'd both faced their deeper flaws.
Dante had surrendered his need to be right. Kaël had surrendered his need for constant reassurance. And in surrendering those pillars, they'd become stronger.
The academy guard at the western gate saw them. Took one look at their spiritual pressure and nearly dropped his spear.
"Sir—you're—"
"Ascended," they both said quietly. "Yes."
The guard stared. "Congratulations, sir."
By morning, the entire academy knew.
Two Ascensions in one night. They had done it simultaneously. Through pain. Through surrender. Through facing the deepest parts of themselves and letting Sanctus remake them.