The morning air was colder than usual.
Kael stood just outside the academy's Combat Hall, arms crossed, watching cadets file in one by one. His legs were sore from the early training, and the memory of Nathan's voice still echoed in his skull.
"You evolve. You don't steal. You overwrite."
He wasn't sure what that meant yet — but he could feel it. Something was different.
And that made today worse.
"First day back and they're throwing us into hand-to-hand?" Kael muttered as he stepped into the gym.
Combat Hall was a wide dome, polished stone floors, rings marked by silver bands on the ground. No weapons. No gear. Just technique and fists.
Kael hated this class.
No powers allowed. No syncs. Just raw body vs. body — which meant Kael was, as usual, at the bottom of the food chain.
He spotted Feyla across the hall. She gave him a nod, concern hidden behind her calm eyes.
Some cadets were whispering already. Others stared.
The Blank was back.
"In the ring!" barked the instructor — Sergeant Dreel, a former brawler with a permanent limp and a voice like sandpaper.
Kael's stomach sank as the matchups were called.
"Kael. You're up. Ring 3. Against Bragg."
Kael swallowed hard.
Bragg was one of the low-ranked earth users. He couldn't shift stone yet, but his body was built like a wall — all muscle, broad shoulders, and a jaw made of brick.
Bragg stepped forward, cracking his knuckles and grinning. "Didn't think you'd survive the fall, Blank."
Kael stepped into the ring.
He didn't reply.
The sergeant raised a hand.
"No powers. No tricks. First to clean strike or knockdown wins. BEGIN!"
Bragg charged in fast.
Kael barely moved.
The punch landed like thunder — square in the chest.
Kael flew backward, hit the mat, and rolled onto his side.
A few cadets winced. One even laughed.
But Kael... wasn't broken.
His breath came fast, but steady.
He blinked up at the ceiling.
"You're fine," said Nathan calmly. "Training works."
Kael rolled to his knees and stood. His body didn't feel like it usually did after getting hit.
He felt... solid.
Like someone had filled in the gaps overnight.
Bragg raised an eyebrow. "Still standing?"
Kael didn't answer.
He moved forward.
Bragg charged again.
Kael stepped in.
Instinct more than strategy.
He ducked the swing. His arm moved on its own — almost too fast — and he threw a straight punch into Bragg's ribs.
Contact.
A loud thud.
Bragg grunted and staggered.
The room went silent.
Kael blinked.
Had he just… landed that?
Bragg looked stunned — not hurt badly, but off balance, confused.
Around the room, cadets stared.
Kael wasn't sure if it was luck… or something else.
"That," Nathan whispered in his head, "wasn't luck. That was retention. Your body remembers impact now."
The instructor stepped in and raised a hand.
"Point — Kael."
Gasps. Silence. Then whispers.
Kael turned, walked off the mat slowly, and returned to the bench.
He didn't smile.
But inside, something stirred.
For the first time…
He'd hit back.