The wind stilled.
Not because nature calmed—but because John's presence pressed against the world around him, quiet and absolute. His black slime sword rested lazily at his side, yet the weight of it felt heavier than any mountain Kaelen had ever imagined.
Kaelen tightened his grip on his blade, sweat dripping from his chin. His circuits sparked in erratic pulses—Gravity and Chrono both nearing their limit, humming like overcharged engines ready to detonate.
John tilted his head.
"Again."
Kaelen lunged.
His blade ripped through the air, bending gravity to accelerate the strike, time tightening around his body like a coil. But John blocked with a single, effortless movement—one finger sliding along the blade's edge, guiding the strike away like it was nothing more than a falling leaf.
Kaelen gritted his teeth and struck again. Harder. Faster.
His circuits flared so violently his bones vibrated, vision blurring. Yet John countered every swing calmly, almost gently, not a single shift in expression.
And then John spoke—voice low but piercing.
"Good. Remember this feeling."
Kaelen staggered backward, knees shaking. "What… feeling?"
"Powerlessness," John replied, stepping forward. "Insignificance. That moment when you give everything… and it's still not enough."
John's aura expanded like a dark tide.
"That feeling is where people break… or rise."
Kaelen felt his chest tighten. His breaths came out shallow. But something inside him—something old, primal, defiant—ignited.
He roared.
His circuits detonated with light.
Gravity Circuit — Stage Two
Chrono Circuit — Stage Two
Time convulsed.
Gravity screamed.
Space warped violently, spiraling inward.
A miniature singularity—no bigger than a football—formed between his palms. It pulsed like a newborn star wrapped in darkness, devouring sound, swallowing the very air.
Kaelen dropped to one knee, veins glowing silver-blue, blood seeping from his nose and ears. The weight of the singularity crushed his bones from the inside out.
"John…!" Tessandra gasped from the sidelines.
But John merely smiled.
He lifted his black slime sword—slow, deliberate, almost elegant—and stepped through the distortion like it was fog.
With a single vertical slash—
SHRAAAAK
He cut the black hole in half.
It shattered like glass, fragments of warped space dissolving harmlessly into the air.
Kaelen collapsed forward, catching himself on trembling arms, gasping as if he had been drowning.
John stood over him.
"You passed."
Kaelen blinked up at him in confusion. "Passed… what?"
John crouched, voice quiet but warm in its own sharp way.
"Your limit. You broke it. When you're on the edge of despair, body failing, mind screaming… that is when true growth begins."
He tapped Kaelen lightly on the forehead.
"Now you're ready for a technique."
Kaelen's eyes widened.
John inhaled, then said:
"One Breath.
A technique where everything—fear, doubt, noise, tension—vanishes in a single inhale."
He placed a hand on Kaelen's chest.
"In one breath, you can quiet your mind, soften your muscles, feel your heart slow, even sense your cells resonate. If you master it… with your Chrono circuit… your control over time will evolve naturally."
Kaelen nodded weakly, determination in his eyes despite the exhaustion.
"Try it," John said.
Kaelen inhaled.
For a moment—just a moment—the world froze.
His heartbeat slowed.
Gravity hummed in harmony.
Time gently folded around him.
An incomplete version of the technique formed—
And Kaelen's body gave out.
He collapsed forward, unconscious.
John caught him with one arm—smooth, practiced, almost gentle—and lifted him easily.
Tessandra rushed over, worry briefly flashing in her eyes before she hid it behind calm discipline.
"Is he—"
"He's fine," John said, handing Kaelen to her carefully. "He broke through. Let him rest."
She held Kaelen close, nodding once, her expression a mix of relief and pride.
John turned to Alzwalt and Kaelven.
"Let's head inside."
Alzwalt stretched. "Finally. I've been craving some tea since this morning."
Kaelven wiped sweat from his brow. "Bro, same. Watching y'all fight is exhausting, man."
John snorted. "Imagine being the one fighting."
They all headed inside Tessandra's home.
The wooden interior was warm, lit by soft lanterns. The scent of herbal tea filled the air. Tessandra laid Kaelen on the couch, covering him with a blanket.
Alzwalt poured tea with ceremonial elegance, while Kaelven dumped excessive sugar in his cup. John sat casually against the counter, arms crossed, black slime sword resting at his feet.
The night felt warm.
The energy calm.
The storm of the day settling.
Tessandra finally sat with them, exhaling softly.
"Thank you… all of you."
John smirked. "He'll be strong. Stronger than you think."
Alzwalt raised his cup. "To the start of the hero's real training."
Kaelven grinned. "To not dying in the process."
Tessandra laughed softly—warm, genuine.
John sipped his tea, eyes half-closed, relaxed for the first time that day.
The battle was over.
The breakthrough was made.
And the real journey had only just begun.