Sumit crouched by the riverbank, letting the cold-water drip from his fingertips as he splashed some onto his face. The icy sensation jolted him from the dull ache of fatigue that had set into his bones over the past week of grueling training. His reflection rippled, a face he barely recognized anymore—a mix of exhaustion, determination, and something new. Confidence.
He stood, gazing at the endless stretch of trees before him. It was a strange feeling, to no longer fear the forest as he had before. The towering, twisted trees, once looming as symbols of his isolation and helplessness, now seemed like mere challenges to overcome. A week of training under the harsh and cryptic guidance of the black Cat-man had transformed him, body and mind.
At first, Sumit had been obsessed with the memory of his humiliation—those cursed plant-monkeys laughing at him and mocking him. It burned in his chest like a slow flame. But the Cat-man had drilled into him the importance of letting it go.
" Never attack first , but always be the first to help others," the Cat-man had said repeatedly, his voice a steady echo in Sumit's mind. And in time, Sumit had learned. His fists, once clenched with anger, now relaxed, opening only in defense, in necessity. Revenge had lost its allure. He didn't need it anymore—not when he had found something stronger. Aura. Control. Survival.
Sumit stood with a happy face as he remembers his hardship of past week. On the second day of training, Sumit had his first real test.
He had been resting, his senses sharp, when a plant-rhino appeared—a towering beast with thick bark-like skin, its horn made of vines twisted into a deadly spiral. It charged without warning, the earth trembling under its massive weight. Sumit's heart leaped into his throat as he barely rolled out of the way, feeling the beast's crushing force in the air as it tore through the ground where he had been standing.
Panic. It surged through him like wildfire. But he remembered the Cat-man's teaching cut through his fear: "Focus, Sumit. You're faster. Use your legs."
Sumit's breath steadied, and in a moment of clarity, he channeled his aura into his legs. His muscles hummed with energy, and as the plant-rhino charged again, he leaped to the side with a speed he hadn't known was possible. The world blurred, the rhino missing him by mere inches.
For a moment, a surge of power and relief coursed through him. But it wasn't over.
The beast skidded, its head snapping toward him as it prepared for another charge. Sumit analyzed the creature , his mind racing. Its skin was impenetrable. Hitting it head-on would be useless. He would tire before it did. But the plant-rino was slow to turn. That was his advantage.
As the rhino pawed the ground, preparing to charge again, Sumit planted his feet, focusing on his hips for balance, his aura flowing like water into his core. His mind sharpened, no longer distracted by fear. This was his fight.
The plant-rhino barreled forward. At the last second, Sumit veered to the side, pivoting effortlessly, and channeled aura into his arms , delivering a powerful blow to the creature's exposed underbelly. The impact reverberated through his fists, and the rhino staggered, its legs buckling as it stumbled to the ground. But it wasn't enough.
Sumit, now fully attuned to his body, gathered aura into his back and shoulders for endurance. The fatigue that had crept in moments before vanished as he moved with calculated precision. He struck again, a sharp, precise hit, breaking through the beast's head. With a final groan, the plant-rhino collapsed, leaving behind a lifeless body.
Sumit stood over the defeated creature, chest heaving. He felt alive , more than he ever had. He had fought, he had conquered. Not because of rage, not because of fear, but because he had controlled the fight. And that was far more powerful than any emotion.
He was going to leave it as it was, but his eyes saw something in the rhino's body, it was a fruit like the fruit he has eaten before, he took it out.
Sumit hesitated but eventually gave in, biting into the fruit. As he chewed, a warmth spread through him, and he could feel his aura surge maybe it was because he doesn't have aura before but this time, he feels his aura increasing.
Over time, the Cat-man's teachings had begun to sink in. Control over emotion, control over aura —that was the key. His aura wasn't just energy, it was a part of him. And he could shape it, use it, just like he used his body.
That understanding was tested again, three days later, when Sumit found himself surrounded by a pack of plant-dogs . The creatures were smaller than the rhino but far more aggressive, their glowing green eyes cutting through the dark. They moved in erratic, unpredictable patterns, snapping and biting at him with thorned fangs.
At first, the panic returned. There were too many. They came at him from every angle, circling him like prey. His heart pounded, and for a moment, he considered running.
But then, a thought broke through the chaos: Aura is efficiency. He couldn't fight them all at once. He needed to conserve his energy, focus on key movements. He inhaled, closing his eyes briefly, and focused his aura into his hips and legs , his core strong as steel.
When the first plant-dog lunged at him, Sumit sidestepped, using the momentum to pivot and redirect aura into his arms. With one powerful motion, he struck the dog with a spinning punch, its thorny body flying into the bushes. He kept moving, channeling aura into his back for recovery and his shoulders for endurance . His body was a machine, each movement precise, every strike calculated. He didn't waste energy; he didn't let his aura spill.
It was over faster than he anticipated. Exhausted, but victorious , he stood among the remains of the plant-dogs, he walks towards the bodies and took the fruit out of their bodies, biting into the fruit he again felt his aura increasing which he uses to recover his body and heal his wounds. Sumit can heal himself by focusing the aura on the wound, this was something he learn by his own.
For the next few days, Sumit found few fruits on trees but this time they didn't increase his aura which result him concluding that only fruits from plant-animal increases his aura.
By the seventh day, Sumit felt invincible. His fights were calculated, controlled. He had learned to focus aura into specific parts of his body during battle—his legs for power, his back for recovery, his arms for speed and strength. Every movement felt fluid, natural.
And for the first time in a long while, he was happy . A genuine, deep-seated happiness that came from knowing he was surviving. No—he was winning.
Walking through the dense trees that afternoon, Sumit hummed softly to himself, his mood light. He felt at ease, the constant tension of survival lifting, if only for a moment. But it didn't last long.
Sumit's smile faded as a strange unease crept over him, sending shivers down his spine. His senses sharpened, his muscles tensing as he instinctively crouched behind a tree. He peered through the branches, and what he saw turned his blood cold.
A figure— dark, twisted, unnatural —moved between the trees. It was a grotesque mix of monkey and tiger, its body rippling with an aura so dark and heavy that the air around it seemed to shimmer and warp. It moved slowly, deliberately, as if it knew no creature would dare challenge it.
Sumit's breath hitched in his throat. His heart pounded, but this wasn't the rush of adrenaline he felt during battle. This was fear , deep and primal. He pressed himself closer to the tree, willing himself to disappear.
The dark figure eventually passed by him, its eyes glowing with malevolence. Sumit didn't dare move, barely even breathed, as it disappeared into the distance, heading towards the plant-monkeys' territory.
A pit of dread settled in Sumit's stomach. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
As the dark figure vanished into the shadows, Sumit's heart began to calm, but his thoughts raced. What was that? It wasn't like the plant-monsters he had fought. Its aura was something else entirely—something dangerous. And if it was heading toward the plant-monkeys, he had a sinking feeling that whatever happened next would be bad. Very bad.