Kael didn't sleep.
Not really.
They gave him a room—if it could even be called that.
Stone walls. No windows. A single narrow bed.
And silence.
Too much silence.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands.
Waiting.
For something to happen.
For the whisper to return.
But it didn't.
That was worse.
"…So now you're quiet," Kael muttered under his breath.
No answer.
His shadow flickered slightly under the dim blue light—
Then stilled again.
Kael exhaled slowly, leaning forward.
"What am I supposed to do now…"
A knock interrupted him.
Sharp.
Once.
Before he could respond—
The door opened.
"Training starts."
Lyra.
She stepped in like she owned the place, glancing around briefly before her eyes landed on him.
"…You look terrible."
Kael frowned. "You always start conversations like that?"
"Only when it's true."
She turned and started walking out again.
"Come on."
Kael hesitated for a moment—
Then stood.
Because sitting around wasn't going to fix anything.
And deep down—
He knew it.
If he didn't learn to control this…
Something else would.
The training grounds weren't what he expected.
No open fields.
No crowds.
Just a massive underground arena.
Circular.
Dark.
The same symbols from before were carved into the walls.
Glowing faintly.
Watching.
Kael stepped inside.
Immediately—
He felt it.
Pressure.
Not crushing.
But constant.
"What is this place?" he asked.
Lyra walked ahead, not turning back.
"Where people like you either improve…"
A pause.
"…or disappear."
Kael didn't like how casually she said that.
Others were already there.
Around ten of them.
Different ages.
Different presences.
All watching.
The moment Kael entered—
The atmosphere shifted.
Eyes turned.
Judging.
Measuring.
A tall boy with short red hair smirked slightly.
"Well, well…"
Ronan.
Kael didn't know his name yet—
But he could feel his presence.
Burning.
"…this the Hollow everyone's talking about?"
Kael didn't respond.
Lyra stopped near the edge of the arena.
"He's not Hollow anymore."
Ronan laughed.
"That's what they said?"
He stepped forward.
Heat rose around him.
Not visible flames—
But close.
"So what are you then?" Ronan asked, looking straight at Kael.
Kael met his gaze.
"…Still figuring that out."
That answer didn't satisfy him.
"Then let me help."
Before anyone could stop him—
Ronan moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
His fist came straight toward Kael—
Kael reacted late.
Again.
But not completely.
The shadows moved.
They rose just enough—
The punch connected—
But not clean.
Kael was thrown back—
Sliding across the stone floor—
But he didn't fall.
He caught himself.
Barely.
A few murmurs spread through the group.
"…He blocked that?"
"…Not fully."
"…Still—"
Ronan's smirk faded slightly.
"…Not bad."
Kael steadied his breathing.
His arms hurt.
His body still wasn't used to this.
But something had changed.
He wasn't helpless anymore.
Lyra's voice cut in.
"Enough."
Ronan clicked his tongue.
"Relax. I didn't kill him."
"Not your decision."
The tension lingered—
But slowly faded.
A new voice echoed through the arena.
"Line up."
Everyone straightened instantly.
Kael turned.
An older man stood at the entrance.
Not Elder Thorne—
But someone similar.
Calm.
Controlled.
Dangerous in a quiet way.
"This is Instructor Kaelir," Lyra said quietly.
Great.
Another Kael.
Instructor Kaelir's gaze moved across the group—
Then stopped on him.
"…So you're the anomaly."
Kael didn't like that word.
But he said nothing.
"Good," the instructor continued.
"Then you'll learn faster."
A pause.
"Or die faster."
No one laughed.
That told Kael everything.
"This place follows one rule," Kaelir said.
The air grew still.
"Power defines position."
Symbols on the walls glowed brighter.
"In Velkaris, there are no nobles."
A step forward.
"No families."
Another step.
"No protection."
His voice lowered.
"Only rank."
A symbol ignited above the arena.
Five levels.
Faintly glowing.
"Prove your strength…"
"…and you rise."
A pause.
"Fail…"
Silence.
"…and you're erased."
Kael's chest tightened.
Not surprised.
Just confirmed.
Lyra leaned slightly toward him.
"Welcome to reality."
Kael looked at the glowing ranks.
Then at the others.
Then at his own hands.
Still normal.
Still empty.
And yet—
Not empty at all.
The whisper returned.
Soft.
Patient.
Climb.
Kael's eyes hardened.
"…I will."
Ronan smirked again from across the arena.
"Good."
His eyes burned.
"Because I'm at the top."
A beat.
"…and I don't like things that don't belong here."
Kael didn't respond.
He didn't need to.
Because for the first time—
He understood something clearly.
This place wasn't a prison.
It was a battlefield.
And if he stayed weak—
He wouldn't survive.
The shadows beneath him shifted slightly.
Like they agreed.
Or maybe—
Like they were waiting.