The hills north of Big Bend were quiet — too quiet.
Moonlight spilled over dry grass and scattered rocks. Muzi crouched low, scanning the dark slope ahead. Beside him, Banele adjusted his grip on a machete. Sphilile, breath steady, held her pistol tight.
"Looks abandoned," she whispered.
Muzi nodded, but his instincts disagreed. The air felt tight. Like something was waiting.
> [Spiritual Flow: 10% | Bangani Link: Stable]
[No hostile presences detected… yet]
The building ahead was a crumbling single-storey structure. Roof half-caved in. Rusted drums scattered outside like bones. If this was going to be the new base, it needed work.
They crept forward.
Inside, the stash house was worse than it looked — mold-covered floors, shattered windows, rat droppings. But it was dry. And more importantly, empty.
For now.
---
Later, once the perimeter was clear, Muzi stepped away from the others. Into the shadows behind the building. His hand trembled — not from fear, but from pressure.
He needed to grow. Fast.
> [Access Point – Inner Domain Detected]
[Would you like to enter the Ancestral Plane?]
[Y/N]
He whispered, "Yes."
---
The black sun rose again over the ancestral plain. Dust kicked up around Muzi's feet. Standing in the center of the stone circle, Jobe waited — arms crossed, face hard.
"You came back," the elder said.
"I'm ready," Muzi said, clenching his fists.
"No. You're desperate," Manana added, stepping from the mist. "There's a difference."
A pause.
"Either way," Jobe said, "you'll bleed."
---
What followed wasn't training — it was punishment.
Muzi's breath heaved as Jobe slammed into him with a palm strike that felt like a hammer. Dust exploded. Muzi rolled, coughed, rose again.
"Too slow!" Jobe barked. "Your enemies won't wait for you to think!"
Again.
A kick swept Muzi's legs from beneath him. Again. Elbow to the ribs. Again.
He fought back, of course — but it wasn't enough. His punches were wild. His balance uneven. His rage misdirected.
"Shadow without structure is smoke!" Manana shouted. "Control it!"
Muzi dropped to his knees, sweat dripping, knuckles bleeding.
> [Warning: Physical Strain Approaching Threshold]
[Push limit? Y/N]
He hissed, "Yes."
He rose again.
And again.
Until Jobe finally grunted, "That's enough."
Muzi swayed on his feet, vision blurry.
But deep inside — something shifted. Not power. Not magic. Foundation.
> [Progress: Ancestral Combat Form I – 42% Mastery]
[Trait Gained: Endurance Hardened I (+2% resistance to pain/fatigue)]
[Next Trait Unlock: 65% Mastery]
Manana smirked. "Now you're beginning to move like someone who survives."
---
When Muzi opened his eyes, he was back in the stash house. Morning light filtered through the holes in the roof.
Sphilile was sitting nearby, humming softly while cleaning her gun.
"You zoned out again," she said.
Muzi just smiled faintly. "I was fighting ghosts."
"Win?"
"Nope," he said. "But I'm still standing."
> [Bangani Thread Stable – Emotional Resonance: Calm]
[New Objective: Continue Training – 2 Days Left Until Gold Squad Reconvene]
And the war wasn't waiting.
---
Would you keep going even if every step forward was pain?
Let me know in the comments.
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