The academy woke up loudly.
Not with bells—those were too civilized—but with voices.
"Did you hear Group F got wrecked?"
"I heard Rayden tried to electrocute the field."
"No, no, Primyte sneezed and Rayden fainted."
"That's not true—Rayden fought him for ten minutes!"
Kayden Arin walked through the eastern corridor with his hands in his pockets, listening quietly as the rumors bloomed like poorly cultivated weeds.
Liora walked beside him, posture straight, eyes forward.
Rayden trailed behind them, hood up, expression dark.
"…I did not faint," Rayden muttered.
Kayden didn't turn. "You vanished dramatically."
"That's different!"
Liora sighed. "You disappeared via boundary seal. That's official."
Rayden groaned. "Why are you two like this?"
Because it was easy.
Because joking made the weight lighter.
Because none of them wanted to talk about the pressure still clinging to their bones from yesterday.
They reached the outer training grounds—a wide circular field surrounded by stone pillars etched with faint runes.
Primyte was already there.
He stood at the center of the field, one hand resting casually in his pocket, the other holding a cup of something that definitely wasn't academy-approved.
He glanced at them.
"…You're late."
Rayden blinked. "We're five minutes early!"
Primyte nodded. "Exactly."
Kayden bowed slightly. Liora followed suit.
Rayden hesitated, then did the same—grumbling.
Primyte took a sip from his cup.
"Good news," he said. "No one dies today."
Rayden perked up. "Wait—good news?"
"Bad news," Primyte continued. "You might wish you did."
Liora stiffened.
Kayden remained still.
Primyte set the cup down on a nearby stone and clapped once.
The sound echoed unnaturally.
"New rule," he said. "Today, you don't use power."
Rayden's jaw dropped.
"…What?"
"No lightning," Primyte said calmly. "No cultivation. No techniques. No clever tricks."
He looked directly at Liora.
"No mental projection. No spiritual anchors. No inner sight."
Then his gaze slid to Kayden.
"And absolutely no… improvisation."
Kayden met his eyes.
"…Understood."
Rayden laughed sharply. "That's impossible."
Primyte tilted his head. "That's interesting."
Rayden frowned. "What is?"
"The speed at which you've decided that," Primyte replied.
Liora swallowed. "Then what are we supposed to do?"
Primyte smiled faintly.
"Walk."
The ground shifted.
Not visibly—but felt.
A pressure descended, subtle at first, like humidity before a storm.
Rayden staggered half a step. "What the—?"
"Pressure field," Primyte said. "Layered. Variable."
Kayden adjusted his footing instinctively.
Liora closed her eyes briefly, focusing on her breathing.
Primyte raised a finger.
"Rule two," he said. "If you activate your power, you fail."
Rayden snapped, "So what, we just let it crush us?"
Primyte shrugged. "You let it teach you."
Rayden stared at him. "…I hate you."
"Yes," Primyte agreed. "Most do."
They stepped forward.
Immediately, the pressure intensified.
Rayden's knees buckled slightly.
"This is stupid," he hissed. "This doesn't make sense."
Kayden said quietly, "Neither did invisible strikes."
Rayden shot him a glare. "You're not helping."
"I'm surviving," Kayden replied.
Liora exhaled slowly. "The pressure isn't uniform."
Primyte nodded. "Good. She's thinking."
Rayden gritted his teeth. "I am also thinking!"
Primyte glanced at him. "You're shouting."
"That's thinking loudly!"
They advanced another step.
The pressure shifted again—this time sideways.
Rayden stumbled into Kayden.
"Hey!"
Kayden steadied him. "Careful."
Rayden snapped, "Don't touch me like that!"
Primyte chuckled. "Oh, teamwork trauma.
Delightful."
Liora shot Primyte a look. "You enjoy this too much."
"I enjoy results," Primyte corrected. "This is just a bonus."
Sweat beaded along Rayden's brow.
"I could end this in a second," he muttered.
"One spark—"
"And you'd fail," Primyte said instantly.
Rayden clenched his fists. Lightning twitched—then died.
"…Damn it."
Kayden's breathing remained even, but his steps weren't perfect.
He adjusted constantly. Micro-movements.
Corrections.
Primyte noticed.
"So," Primyte said casually, "what happens when power is taken away?"
Liora answered first. "Instinct remains."
Rayden snapped, "Frustration remains."
Kayden said nothing.
Primyte smiled slightly. "Fear remains."
They reached the halfway mark.
The pressure spiked.
Liora gasped and dropped to one knee.
Rayden moved without thinking, grabbing her arm. "You okay?"
She nodded, breathing hard. "Don't—use—power."
Rayden laughed bitterly. "Wasn't planning to."
Primyte observed silently.
Then he waved his hand.
The pressure rotated.
Rayden was thrown backward, slamming into the dirt.
"Ow! That's assault!"
Primyte walked closer. "No. That's imbalance."
Kayden helped Rayden up.
Rayden stared at him. "You're not even sweating."
Kayden paused. "…I am."
Rayden squinted. "…Oh."
Liora pushed herself up slowly. "This isn't about strength."
Primyte nodded. "Say it louder."
"This isn't about strength," she repeated.
Rayden groaned. "Everything is always not about strength."
Primyte smiled. "Correct."
They took another step.
The pressure vanished.
Rayden nearly fell forward.
"…What?"
Primyte turned away. "Lesson's over."
Rayden shouted, "That's it?!"
Primyte looked back. "You didn't fail."
Rayden blinked. "…We didn't?"
"You didn't rely on power," Primyte said. "You relied on each other."
Liora looked surprised.
Kayden felt it then.
A faint pulse.
Not activation.
Recognition.
Primyte's eyes flicked to him.
Just for a second.
"Careful," Primyte said quietly. "If you lean on it… it will learn."
Kayden nodded.
Rayden noticed. "Lean on what?"
"Nothing," Kayden replied.
Primyte picked up his cup, the faint steam curling lazily into the air as if the training field itself was exhaling. His posture was relaxed, almost careless, yet the pressure he carried lingered like an afterimage burned into the ground.
"Tomorrow," he said calmly, "we make this harder."
Rayden groaned aloud, throwing his head back dramatically. "Of course we do. Why would tomorrow ever be kind?"
Primyte didn't respond. He never did when the complaints were honest.
Liora let out a soft laugh—tired, breathless, but real. It surprised even her. Her legs still trembled, her mind still echoed with phantom pressure, yet there was a strange clarity settling in her chest. Not victory. Not defeat. Understanding.
Kayden stood a little apart from them, eyes fixed on the training field. The stone pillars looked ordinary again, silent and still, as if they hadn't just tried to crush the will out of three students.
His breathing was steady, his posture calm, but inside, something subtle tightened.
Control was harder than power.
Power was loud. Power was obvious. Power screamed its presence to the world.
Control whispered.
It demanded patience. Awareness. Restraint so absolute it bordered on pain.
Kayden flexed his fingers slowly, feeling the echo of movements that hadn't been powered by anything but intent. No surge. No guidance. No voice telling him where to step.
And yet—
Deep beneath the academy, far below stone and seal and forgotten foundations, something responded.
Not with hunger.
Not with rage.
But with attention.
Ancient mechanisms shifted imperceptibly. Old runes pulsed once, then dimmed. Whatever slept there did not wake—but it listened, as if noting a familiar rhythm after a long silence.
The system did not speak.
It did not push.
It waited.
Because restraint, once learned, was far more dangerous than power ever was.