The room felt different now.
Not because it had changed.
Because he had.
Ethan stood in silence, feeling the thin layer of aura resting against his skin. It was faint, unstable, but present. Like warmth that didn't come from heat. Like breath that didn't come from lungs.
It moved when he moved.
It existed because he existed.
The door opened again.
This time, he felt it before he heard it.
A presence.
Controlled.
Measured.
The man entered, his eyes settling on Ethan immediately.
"You learned Ten," he said.
Not a question.
A statement.
Ethan didn't respond.
The man stepped closer.
"Ten allows you to contain your aura. It prevents it from leaking. It allows you to survive."
He paused.
"But survival alone is not enough."
He raised his hand slightly.
"Your next lesson is Zetsu."
The word surfaced in Ethan's mind with quiet familiarity.
Zetsu.
Suppression.
"To use Ten," the man continued, "you hold your aura close to your body."
He stepped closer still.
"To use Zetsu… you stop it completely."
Ethan listened carefully.
"When your aura flows, others can sense you. They can measure you. They can find you."
He stopped in front of him.
"But when you use Zetsu…"
He lowered his hand.
"…you disappear."
Silence followed.
"Close your nodes," the man said.
No further explanation.
No demonstration.
Only expectation.
Ethan stood still.
He could feel the aura around him now. Thin. Fragile. Controlled through Ten.
To stop it—
He had to let it go.
Not outward.
Inward.
He slowed his breathing.
Focused.
He imagined the flow stopping.
Not contained.
Closed.
Sealed.
At first, nothing happened.
Then—
The warmth faded.
The presence disappeared.
The aura was gone.
Not lost.
Hidden.
The man's eyes sharpened slightly.
He stepped closer.
"Good," he said quietly.
Not praise.
Recognition.
"With Ten, you survive."
He walked past him.
"With Zetsu, you hide."
He stopped near the door.
"And those who can hide… can choose when to strike."
He left without another word.
The door closed behind him.
Ethan stood alone.
He couldn't feel his aura anymore.
He couldn't feel anything.
It was as if he didn't exist.
But he did.
And now—
He understood something dangerous.
Power wasn't just strength.
It was control over when to exist.
And when not to.