They didn't leave him alone after that.
The door opened again, sooner than expected.
Not the same man this time.
Two guards entered, their expressions empty, their movements efficient. Between them stood another child.
A boy.
Older than Ethan by a few years. Taller. Stronger. His face was pale, but his eyes were alert. Afraid—but hiding it.
They pushed him forward.
He stumbled, then caught himself.
The guards left without a word.
The door locked behind them.
Silence settled between the two boys.
Neither spoke.
Neither needed to.
The other boy looked at Ethan cautiously, as if trying to understand what he was seeing. Ethan remained seated, calm, his posture relaxed but ready.
"This is your next lesson," the familiar voice said.
Ethan looked toward the door.
The man stood there again, watching.
"A Manipulator does not control objects alone."
His eyes shifted toward the other boy.
"He controls resistance."
The word lingered.
Resistance.
The man stepped aside.
"Stand," he said to Ethan.
Ethan obeyed.
He activated Ren—not fully, but enough.
The aura expanded around him, invisible but present.
The other boy reacted immediately.
His breathing changed.
His posture stiffened.
He felt it.
Even if he didn't understand it.
"Command him," the man said.
The words were calm.
Simple.
Final.
Ethan did not move.
He observed.
The boy's breathing.
His fear.
His uncertainty.
Control did not begin with force.
It began with understanding.
Ethan focused his aura.
Directed it forward.
Not pushing.
Not attacking.
Commanding.
"Step forward," Ethan said quietly.
The boy did not move.
His body resisted.
His fear held him in place.
Ethan felt it.
Resistance.
Not physical.
Mental.
Instinctive.
His aura pressed forward—not harder, but more precisely.
Focused.
Certain.
The boy's body trembled.
A single step.
Small.
Uncertain.
But real.
He stopped immediately after, his eyes widening in confusion.
The man watched carefully.
"Again," he said.
Ethan didn't hesitate.
"Raise your hand," he said.
The boy's arm twitched.
Resisted.
Then slowly—
It rose.
Not willingly.
Not completely.
But enough.
Ethan released his aura.
The boy collapsed slightly, breathing heavily, his body free again.
Silence filled the room.
The man stepped forward.
"You understand now," he said.
Not praise.
Recognition.
"Control is not given."
He paused.
"It is taken."
He turned toward the door.
"Most will resist you."
He stopped.
"Your task is to make resistance meaningless."
Then he left.
The door closed.
Ethan stood in silence.
The other boy remained where he was, shaken, confused, afraid.
Ethan looked at him.
Not with cruelty.
Not with sympathy.
With understanding.
Because in this world—
Control was survival.
And survival belonged to those who commanded it.