"I think I did..."
Ren turned to look at Aika. "…it?"
She was still watching him, one cheek resting against her knuckles, head tilted slightly in faint surprise. Her expression, as always, walked a tightrope between disinterest and quiet scrutiny.
"Well…" she said slowly. "You grasped it faster than I thought you would."
Ren smiled, eyes drifting back toward the lake. Sensing Vira hadn't been that difficult. In fact, it felt strangely natural, like a muscle he'd forgotten he had, finally stretching after years of disuse. A gentle energy pulsed in his limbs. Not overwhelming, just present, like blood flowing warmer than usual. He felt awake, not in the shallow way after a night's sleep, but like he was coming out of a deep fog, like his bones were finally remembering they belonged to something alive.
Aika leaned back on her hands, enjoying the breeze from across the water, carrying the faint scent of minerals and distant city dust. The lake shimmered under the rising sun, its surface like shards of a sleeping mirror.
"You've only drawn in a little," she said. "Your vessel's still tiny, probably already full from that sip you just took. Like trying to catch a river with a teacup. It overflows fast."
Ren looked down at his hands, flexing them slowly. "So how do I make the teacup bigger?"
Aika gave him a once-over. "If you want it to grow, you have to keep working it. Stretch it by drawing in more. Use it. Train it. Then repeat that forever."
He raised a brow. "Forever sounds exhausting."
"Oh, it is," she said flatly. "But if you want to survive as a Viran, that's the bare minimum."
She sat up straighter. "Every technique we use, every ability, is just Vira leaving the body in a form we've learned to control. The bigger your vessel, the more you can do before you burn out. Right now, you've dipped your toes into the stream. You can feel Vira, but that's the basics. You're not even in the first stage of power."
Ren frowned a bit.
Aika went on, "There are seven stages of power on the path of a viran. To advance each stage, certain requirements need to be met. Simply put, you need to prove you can do specific things to earn a higher title. The first stage is called the Initiate. It's the easiest to get into."
She lifted two fingers. "Two simple conditions. First, attunement. That means sensing your element and absorbing enough Vira to unlock your core perks. Each element has its own perks. Take air types, for example. Those guys can all fly without wings, and that's just one of their perks."
Ren's brows lifted in genuine disbelief. "No way."
Aika nodded lazily. "For us — water types — we get a hyper-adaptive body, better fluidity in motion, the ability to breathe underwater… and something called moisture sense."
Ren blinked. "Moisture sense?"
"Yeah. Think of it like radar, but for water. Your body starts picking up on moisture in the air, in the ground, even inside other people. It's subtle at first, but once it clicks, you'll notice. Your awareness shifts. Everything feels closer."
She let out a small yawn, covering it half-heartedly with the back of her hand, as if all the explaining was beginning to bore her.
Ren shifted, glancing toward the lake again. "So… what's the second part?"
Aika didn't answer right away. Her gaze stayed fixed on the water, eyes half-lidded.
"Resonance," she said finally. "You need to absorb more Vira and grow your vessel just enough to hit a faint resonance with your core element. Once that happens, you'll access your resonant state. That is when everything starts to change. The derivative, your path, your real abilities… it all begins there."
Ren turned toward her, questions already lining up in his head like dominoes.
But Aika caught the look on his face and cut him off with a lazy wave of her hand. "Aishhh—God, no. Don't start. No more questions for now."
She pushed herself up to her feet and gave a long, slow stretch, arms rising above her head until her back gave a quiet pop. "Just focus on one thing: grow your vessel. Take in more Vira. Once you've attuned properly to water, then we can talk about the rest."
She turned. "Anyway, you've taken your first real step. Celebrate or whatever. Me? I'm starving."
Ren stood as she began walking toward the bike.
"Breakfast?" he asked.
"Coffee. And something greasy. I've burned too many calories babysitting you."
"I thought I was doing well."
"You are," she replied, tossing him his helmet. "But I also skipped dinner last night."
"Yeah, that reminds me… when did you come in? I got to the lounge and was a bit shocked to see you there."
"My flight landed in District 4 at 11 p.m. yesterday. Sami picked me up from the airport."
"Oh..."
They mounted the bike and clicked their helmets into place. The sleek engine roared to life with a smooth purr. They sped off, leaving the lake behind and carving through the winding morning roads like a whisper of wind, heading toward the highway that led into the busy section of Sector 4.
***
They arrived at a cozy coffee shop nestled between towering buildings, its large transparent windows offering a panoramic view of the city waking up. The hum of early morning life drifted in through the open door: cars, footsteps, distant chatter, all blending into a familiar urban symphony.
Without a word, they headed straight to the booth section. The cushions were soft, and the table was clean and black. Two slim tablets rested side by side at the center, screens already active and glowing faintly.
Aika slid in first and picked up one of the tablets, tapping through it with casual ease. "Black coffee. And pancakes. Lots of pancakes," she muttered. She glanced at Ren, then with a sly grin, nodded toward the second tablet. "Get whatever you want. Sami's card is covering it."
Ren smirked and picked up the tablet, scanning the menu. "Toasted bread, eggs, and… coffee. With a little milk."
Aika tucked her hair behind one ear before pulling one leg up onto the seat, her knee loosely bent against her chest. She pulled out her phone, flipped it sideways, and started tapping away at a game with quick, practiced precision. For a moment, she looked almost harmless, a quiet girl immersed in a digital world with all her sharp edges folded away.
Ren leaned back, the faux leather cool against his spine. He sat there for a moment, hands resting lightly on the table, eyes drawn to the window beside them. As they waited for their food, he decided to keep himself occupied.
'So… I need to draw in more Vira to expand my vessel.
Aika said I could pull it from the air too. But how?'
He replayed her instructions in his mind. Then he closed his eyes, tuning out the noise of the café. The clatter of cups, the murmur of voices, the hiss of steam all faded beneath his focus.
He reached inward first, searching for his vessel, his Vira. That strange, silent presence moved through him like water under glass.
Then he reached outward, slowly and tentatively, trying to feel that same presence in the space around him.
Minutes passed, or maybe just seconds. Time warped in this focused state.
Then he began to sense something. A faint trickle of Vira brushed against his awareness, thin and elusive, like a wisp of cold air drifting over warm skin. He focused on it, letting his breath slow. The presence around him deepened.
He opened his eyes, feeling the subtle pulse of Vira flowing through the café. It was not the wild river he had felt by the lake, but it was there, threading through the air, the steam rising from coffee machines, the moisture clinging to the windowpane.
Ren narrowed his focus. He reached out with his senses, willing it to flow into him toward his vessel. Slowly, the cup inside him grew heavier and fuller.
'Yes, I'm doing it?'
He pushed himself further, drawing in more Vira. His body tingled.
'I can feel it. I think… I can really feel it.'
Just then, a clatter broke through his trance.
"Here you go, ma'am, sir," the waiter said, setting down their plates with a practiced smile.
Aika dropped her phone on the table and picked up her fork. She shot Ren a knowing look.
'I knew it. He's one of those annoying, talented brats who get everything right on the first try.'
She could already sense him trying to draw Vira from the environment.
She began eating, and a moment later, Ren looked up at her and spoke.
"You're of the water element too. What does the affliction do to us, exactly? And how are we supposed to live with it?"
She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed.
"The physical part's easy," she began. "Absorb enough Vira. Stay near moisture. As long as you do, your body won't fall apart."
Her voice dipped lower. "It's the emotional part that's harder."
A pause.
"The calm," she said, voice steady but quieter now. "The affliction tied to water, the weight of stillness, is built around calm, peace, and control."
Aika looked at him fully.
"Imagine this," she said. "Someone you love leaves. Travels far. Months pass. No messages. No voice. You miss them. Of course you do. You feel it, that dull ache in your ribs, that tightness in your chest when you think of them."
Her eyes didn't waver.
"You're sad. Not broken, just... aching. And that's fine. That kind of sadness is slow. Manageable. It doesn't disturb the calm."
She took another bite. "Then they come back. You're happy. Not loud, not wild, just quietly, deeply happy. Because happiness, too, can exist without disrupting the calm."
She set her fork down. "But then bam! Someone kills them, right in front of you."
She tilted her head. "You're supposed to scream, collapse, shake. Your body is supposed to grieve in fire and fury and sound. That's what makes it bearable, the explosion, the intensity, the release of your emotions."
She met his eyes. "But you won't feel it. Not fully. Not in that moment. Because the affliction won't let you. Because that kind of emotion, that raw, uncontrollable storm, breaks the calm."
Ren swallowed, his hands curling slightly against the edge of the table.
"And so," she continued, softer now, "it shuts off. Numbs you. Freezes everything. You'll still know you're grieving. But the grief never breaks the surface. The scream never comes."
She turned slightly, her gaze drifting toward the fogged edge of the window.
"And then comes the worst part," she whispered. "You'll carry that sadness forever."
Her voice was a hush now, like something almost too heavy to speak aloud. "Because you never let it out. Because your body never let it. It stays buried, quiet and permanent."
She faced him again. "You'll keep walking. Keep eating. Keep surviving. But inside…"
Her eyes were calm, but a flicker of sorrow lingered within them. "It's like holding your breath for the rest of your life."
Ren did not say anything. He just stared down at the food in front of him.
After a moment, he spoke quietly. "That's… messed up."
"Yeah…" Aika murmured. "But it's not all bad."
She picked up another piece of pancake, then paused, eyes fixed on the slow swirl of cream dissolving into her coffee. "On the bright side… we don't panic like others do. We don't drown in fear. The affliction numbs that part. It lets us stay calm, even when everything's falling apart."
A breath passed between them. The café's background noise felt distant now, like it belonged to another world.
"It helps us think clearly. Make the right call. Not the emotional one."
She turned her gaze to him again, her tone soft. "In the meantime… until you can master it, until it stops mastering you, just do two things."
Ren lifted his eyes.
"Protect the ones who matter to you," she said quietly. "And don't fight the affliction. It's part of who we are."
Her words hung in the air, and for a moment neither of them spoke.