It had been a full month since Aamir began training in the basics of Pran.
Deep in the heart of the jungle, beside a serene blue pond, Aamir stood barefoot with his eyes closed. His breathing was steady, slow, and measured. Both his hands glowed faintly—coated in a soft, flickering pink energy. The light shimmered like mist, pulsing gently across his knuckles.
He exhaled and took a stance.
THWACK!
With what looked like a gentle tap, Aamir's fist connected with a thick jungle tree. The moment his knuckles made contact, the pink energy flared—and the tree snapped in half, exploding from the center and crashing to the ground with a mighty CRACK.
Birds scattered into the air.
Aamir stared at his hand, then the fallen tree.
"That was… a baby punch," he said, amazed. "I didn't even use my own strength. That was purely Pran energy."
