Marco
didn't go easy on him.
Training day one started at dawn.
No speeches. No warm-ups. Just pain.
Von stood at the center of a reinforced room—walls covered in scorch marks, dents, and claw marks. The "training area." His body still hurt from recovery, but Marco didn't mind.
"You want to rise?" Marco replied, crossing his arms. "Then let's see how hard you fall."
A rod of metal crashed to the ground next to Von, hurled telekinetically by Marco.
"Levitate it. Hold it. Concentrate."
Von extended a hand, eyes tightening. He could sense it. That same pressure in his head—the odd hum that occurred whenever he attempted to lift something.
The rod rose—barely.
Then dropped like dead weight.
"Ch."
Marco didn't sigh. He didn't scold.
He retook the rod.
"Again."
Day Three
His hands bled.
His legs shook.
And still—Marco's voice echoed.
"Power without control is suicide."
Von attempted once more. Sweat dripped down his face. He compelled the rod to rise. Then hurled it across the room with a cry.
"Why can't I hold it?!"
Marco remained motionless. Watching.
"Because you're not focused. You're afraid. You're fighting your mind."
Von fell to his knees. "I'm not like you, or Justin, or Ace."
Marco stepped forward.
"You're correct. You're not like them."
Von looked up, hollow.
"You're you. That's why you'll be better."
Day Seven—The Fire Test
Ace joined them.
"Today, we will test his nerves," he said with a smile. "Let's see what happens when things get intense."
Ace slowly rolled his neck, fire dripping from his arms like steam from boiling steel. His eyes, usually serene, now burned faintly orange. He wasn't angry—he was concentrating. Lethally concentrating.
"Don't hold back," Von growled, clenching his fists.
Ace sneered. "You think I ever do?"
He disappeared in a heat haze.
Boom! Von hardly saw the fist before it struck his stomach. He was sent flying backward, rolled through dust, and coughed violently. He rolled to his feet, eyes wide.
Ace was already airborne, fire trailing behind him like a comet. His boot descended like a hammer. Von dove to the side barely in time, but the earth where he'd been standing cracked under the impact.
"You're thinking too much," Ace said, his voice composed even as fire erupted around his fists. "You hesitate. That gets you killed."
Von charged forward, attempting to take him by surprise. He threw a high kick—but Ace caught it, spun, and brought his elbow down, causing Von to slam into the ground.
The Ace didn't stop.
Trails of flame erupted behind every step of Ace's as he plunged ahead once more. His fists flared to life, burning with a molten steel glow. He danced between blows like a figure in an inferno of movement—graceful, volatile, and exact. Every punch seemed to be imbued with the force of fire itself.
Von could hardly keep pace. His heart raced. His legs ached. But deep within that tumult, something within him snapped.
He tightened his stance. Breathed.
Focus. Control the levitation. Lift with your will.
Ace's blow arrived, surrounded by flames—Von drew back in time, employing a swift levitation burst to cushion the impact. He yanked a metal rod from some distance away with his power and swung it with force.
Ace blocked it with a burning arm, the metal searing immediately. "Good," he said. "That's it. Fight back. Rise.
Von yelled, unleashing a burst of levitation, sending Ace stumbling back a step.
The flame around Ace flared brighter—and now he was grinning. "Now you're starting to piss me off."
Von dropped to his knees, exhausted, looking defeated.
"I can't do this!"
"Yes, you can!" Ace shouted. "You're not that timid little kid anymore. Now, show me what you've got!"
Von shut his eyes.
Breathed.
Felt the metal surrounding him.
And then—
He lifted every object.
Perfectly.
"He's entering C-rank."
The air shimmered with heat.
Von swiped sweat from his forehead, gaze locked on the flame-enshrouded form in front of him. Ace didn't move, cloak draped open, arms radiating a soft glow of fire that ran along his skin like it was a part of him. His face was impossible to read—calm, sure, and completely composed.
You ready?" Ace questioned, voice low but loaded with warning.
Von nodded, clenching his fists. "Yeah."
Ace didn't wait.
He streaked forward, leaving a trail of flame as his fist hurtled toward Von's jaw. Von just managed to duck beneath it, the heat brushing his skin. A kick was next—a blazing arc that shattered the earth behind him when he avoided it.
Ace pushed more urgently, moving like a wildfire: quick, erratic, and devouring.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each blow sent Von backward. He blocked, parried, and staggered—but did not fall. Not yet.
"You're not here to survive," Ace said during a combo. "You're here to evolve."
Von clenched his teeth and tossed out his hand.
A garbage can lid behind Ace hovered and flung itself forward like a discus. Ace turned, flames engulfing his forearm, and struck it in mid-air, the metal melting and flying apart like sparks.
"Better. Do it again."
Von's fingers splayed. Three items rose—a plank, a detached pipe, and a weighty crate. His head pounded immediately, but he gripped tight. He hurled them simultaneously as he used his ability to raise himself off the ground, narrowly dodging a fire-covered punch.
Ace caught the pipe, ducked the crate, and charged through the plank as it splintered against his shoulder.
Von lifted both hands, attempting to put space between them. He threw himself backward, grazing the air, then fell abruptly—knees crumbling from the effort.
Ace was already present. A flaming uppercut caught Von's chest, picking him up off the ground. The impact took the wind out of him. He crashed onto the floor and remained there, coughing, eyes swimming.
Silence.
Then: footsteps. Deliberate, slow.
Von blinked in the haze as Ace loomed over him, the flames dying from his arms. For a second, he didn't say anything.
Then he held out a hand.
You lost," Ace said. "But for the first time… I had to move.
Von gazed at the hand for a moment before accepting it.
I made three things float," he replied feebly, not wanting to sound too arrogant.
Ace sneered. "You did more than that. You stopped running."
He assisted Von to his feet. "You've got a long way to go. But now? You're finally on the path."
{That Night}
Von sat by himself in the mess hall, bandaged and battered, a hot meal half consumed before him.
He levitated a fork lazily, keeping it midair for over a minute.
No pain. No flinching.
Just control.
He broke into a slight smile.
He still had a long way to go.
But for the first time. He thought he could do it.