Week One — Training Begins
"Feel the space between molecules," Yoo instructed. "Not physical distance. Dimensional separation. The gap where reality bends."
Hae-won sat cross-legged opposite him, eyes closed, concentrating. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool training room.
"I feel... something. Like static electricity but not quite."
"That's dimensional friction. You're perceiving correctly." Yoo extended his own spatial sense — damaged pathways made it harder, but functional. "Now try to push. Gently. Don't force. Coax the space to open."
Hae-won's energy gathered.
A shimmer appeared in the air — brief, unstable — then collapsed.
"Damn."
"Progress. Yesterday you couldn't manifest anything. Today you created a ripple. By next week, you'll hold a stable pocket for five seconds."
"Five seconds isn't enough for rift sealing."
"No. But it's foundation." Yoo leaned back, exhausted already despite sitting still. His reduced pathway efficiency meant everything cost more energy. "Sealing requires thirty-minute sustained manipulation. We build toward that gradually."
"We have three weeks."
"I know. Which is why we train four hours daily. Starting now."
They worked until Hae-won's energy reserves depleted completely.
Then Yoo switched to theory — dimensional mathematics, spatial geometry, energy flow patterns.
By the end of session, Hae-won looked ready to collapse.
"This is impossible," she said. "Three weeks to learn what should take years."
"Welcome to apocalypse curriculum. Everything's accelerated." Yoo stood slowly — his four-year-old body protesting. "Rest. Tomorrow we continue. By week's end, you'll hold five-second pockets consistently."
"And if I can't?"
"Then you're not ready for test run. We find another candidate." His voice was not soothing. "This isn't personal. It's survival calculus. Either you develop the capability or you don't. Both outcomes are acceptable data points."
Hae-won's expression hardened. "I'll develop the capability."
"Good. Determination helps. Talent and determination together? That's how miracles happen."
She left.
Yoo collapsed into his chair, trembling from exertion.
Four hours of instruction exhausted me.
I used to train six hours straight without issue.
"Current physical state: compromised. Recommend: extended rest between training sessions. Pushing recovery could cause permanent additional damage."
Can't rest. Don't have time.
"Incorrect calculation. If you damage yourself further, you cannot train Hae-won OR attempt closures. Rest is strategic necessity, not weakness."
The door opened.
Jae-sung entered with food — real food, not ration bars. Academy privilege for mission-critical personnel.
"You look terrible," Jae-sung observed.
"Thanks. You look... actually, you look good. What happened?"
Jae-sung's aura had changed. Stronger. More refined. The Platinum 44 energy signature Yoo remembered was now—
"Platinum 47. Broke through during dungeon clearance yesterday."
Three rank advancement. That's...
"Significant. Platinum-tier advancement requires exponentially more energy than lower tiers. Three ranks in two weeks indicates either: exceptional core absorption, near-death breakthrough, or both."
"What happened?" Yoo asked.
Jae-sung sat heavily. "Overlord-class beast. Emperor-tier core inside it. I killed the beast, absorbed the core on-site. Stupid, reckless, exactly what I told you not to do."
"But you survived."
"Barely. Your Adaptive Evolution? I think I'm developing something similar. My body adapted to the core energy mid-absorption. Restructured to accommodate power that should've killed me."
Jae-sung looked at his hands. "I'm becoming like you, Changing, Evolving beyond normal human limits of absorbtion."
"Is that bad?"
"I don't know. But I understand now — why you keep pushing. Why you can't stop. Because stopping feels like dying. Forward momentum is the only thing keeping us from falling apart."
They sat in shared understanding.
"Eat," Jae-sung said. "You need fuel for tomorrow's training."
Yoo ate. The food was good — pre-apocalypse quality, somehow preserved.
Each bite felt like luxury.
Moments like this.
They matter.
Remember them.
Day 9 — Observation
Yoo woke to movement in his room.
Not Jae-sung's presence.
Not Ji-hye checking on him.
Someone else.
He kept eyes closed, breathing steady.
Extended Energy Sense carefully.
Someone's here. Platinum-rank. Unknown signature. Watching me.
"Confirmed. Intruder detected. Power level: Platinum 51. Hostile intent: uncertain. Recommend: feign sleep until threat is assessed."
The presence moved closer.
Stood beside his bed.
A voice — female, cold:
"Interesting specimen. Brain activity during sleep shows consciousness split. Partial presence in external dimension. His personal realm."
Second voice — male:
"The reports were accurate. He manifested Primordial-tier ability at birth. Worth the investment."
They're not academy personnel.
Different faction.
"Agreed. Energy signatures don't match any known academy hunters. Recommend: emergency alert. However, movement could trigger hostile action."
First voice:
"Marking for extraction. When he attempts next rift closure, we intervene. The child has value beyond academy's use. Our organization can better utilize his abilities."
"Understood. Initiating deep scan—"
Yoo's eyes snapped open.
"I'd prefer you didn't."
The two figures froze. Hadn't expected him awake.
Both wore black combat gear. Faces covered.
But their energy signatures were clear — Platinum 51 and Platinum 49.
I'm Iron 15 with damaged pathways.
They could kill me before I screamed.
"Apologies," the woman said smoothly. "We didn't mean to wake you."
"You meant to scan me without permission. That's worse." Yoo sat up slowly, ready to dive into Extras World if needed. "Who are you?"
"Friends."
"Friends don't break into children's bedrooms at 3 AM."
The man laughed. "Fair point. We're representatives of an organization interested in your talents. The academy uses you as tool. We'd offer partnership."
"Partnership where I'm extracted during mission and presumably dissected?"
"Studied. Not dissected. We're scientists, not butchers."
"Min-ji said the same thing. I don't trust either of you." Yoo's hand moved toward emergency alarm—
The woman's speed was inhuman.
She crossed the room, disabled the alarm, returned to original position in half a second.
Platinum 51 speed.
He'd barely seen her move.
"Please don't complicate this," she said. "We're not here to harm you. Just establish contact. When academy fails — and they will fail, their math doesn't work — you'll need alternative allies. Remember us."
She placed something on his bedside table.
Small token, obsidian-black, inscribed with symbols.
"Crush that. We'll come. Anywhere, anytime. Consider it... insurance."
"Against what?"
"Against being expendable. The academy will use you until you break, then discard you. We value long-term investment. Your survival matters to us beyond immediate utility."
The man added:
"Also: we know about the trader Han. And the favor you paid. And what information he sold. Your personal realm's nature is no longer secret. Multiple organizations know. Academy is keeping competitors away for now. But when you're no longer useful..." He shrugged.
"You're saying I should join you out of fear?"
"We're saying options are valuable. Keep the token. Think about it."
They vanished.
Not through doors. Just gone.
Spatial manipulation beyond Yoo's current capability.
He was alone.
Holding obsidian token that probably contained tracker or listening device or worse.
Should I destroy it?
"Negative. If they wanted you dead or captured, they'd have done so already. The token is genuine offer — insurance against academy betrayal. Recommend: keep but don't use unless absolutely necessary."
This is another faction. The ones Min-ji mentioned who'd be 'less gentle' than academy.
"Probability: 87%. However, their information was accurate. You ARE expendable to academy once body breaks completely. Having alternative is strategic advantage."
Yoo hid the token in Extras World.
Not in his physical quarters where academy scans would find it.
Then tried to sleep.
Failed.
Multiple factions want me.
Academy, this group, probably others.
I'm valuable piece on board I don't fully understand.
Need to get stronger.
Fast enough that I'm not piece — I'm player.
Day 12 — Seo-yeon's Breakthrough
Yoo was reviewing Hae-won's progress notes when alarms sounded.
Not danger alarms.
Different pattern.
Breakthrough imminent.
Someone was advancing rank right now.
He followed the crowd to training yard.
Found Seo-yeon at the center, surrounded by observers.
Her Bronze 9 energy was exploding upward.
The threshold between Bronze and Iron — massive gap that killed some, transformed others.
"She's attempting breakthrough?" Yoo asked Sergeant Park.
"Started spontaneously during forms practice. Her pathways reached critical mass. Either she breaks through or burns out."
Park's expression was professional mask. "Fifty-fifty odds."
Seo-yeon screamed.
Her energy blazed visible — lightning crackling around her body.
The ground beneath her feet cracked from pressure.
She's forcing it.
Pushing through instead of guiding.
"Confirmed. Aggressive breakthrough. High risk but faster completion if successful."
Minutes stretched.
Seo-yeon's energy peaked—