The silence in the training room was almost suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic sound of Kairo's breathing. His body was exhausted from the previous day's training, his muscles sore, his aura still vibrating from the strain of the exercise. But today would be different.
Roderick stood across from him, arms folded, his expression unreadable. There were no illusions, no dummies to fight, just Kairo and his own mind.
"You've learned how to release Ren," Roderick began, his voice low, almost quiet. "Now, you will learn to hold it. Endurance, focus, and control are the cornerstones of a true Nen user's strength. If you cannot hold your energy steady, all your power will be useless."
Kairo nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. He had faced physical exhaustion before, but this was different. The thought of holding Ren indefinitely sent a twinge of fear through him, an unknown territory he wasn't sure he could conquer.
"Begin," Roderick commanded.
Kairo closed his eyes and drew in a slow, steady breath. He focused on his aura, reaching deep within, allowing it to stir. He could feel the familiar pulse of energy within him, a growing pressure that he had learned to control. It was almost a comforting presence, but there was still something wild about it—something untamed that threatened to break free if he wasn't careful.
He exhaled slowly and began to pour his focus into his Ren. At first, it was easy. He felt the surge of power course through his body, and his surroundings seemed to shift slightly, like a distant hum that reverberated against his skin. His aura expanded outward, taking on a visible form in the air, surrounding him in a halo of light.
Minutes passed. His focus remained sharp, his concentration unwavering. But the longer he held the Ren, the more he felt the strain in his body. His limbs began to tremble, just slightly at first. His breath became heavier, his mind starting to cloud with the effort.
Roderick's voice cut through the haze. "Focus, Kairo. You'll never master Ren if you allow yourself to be distracted by your own weakness."
Kairo bit back the frustration that surged in his chest. He had failed too many times already. He couldn't fail again. He drew deeper on his focus, forcing his aura to remain steady. But the more he pushed, the heavier the weight of the energy became. The pressure in his chest was like an iron band, squeezing tighter and tighter.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. His mind began to falter. The pressure in his aura, the pulse of energy—it felt like it would crush him if he didn't let go. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kairo's aura flickered. Just a moment, a single lapse in concentration, and his energy wavered. He felt it: the moment his Ren unraveled, the power slipping through his control. A blast of energy pulsed outward, surging from his body before he could reign it in. The force sent him stumbling backward, breathless and disoriented.
"Enough," Roderick said, his voice cold and calm as always.
Kairo collapsed to his knees, panting heavily. His body trembled, and he couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or frustration. His aura was still active, but his control had slipped. He could feel it—his strength had faltered.
Roderick didn't move, didn't speak for a moment. The silence between them stretched on, heavy and suffocating.
"You failed," Roderick said at last. "And that failure is your own fault."
Kairo clenched his fists, biting his lip to stifle the rising anger in his chest. He hated this. Hated the training, hated the feeling of being constantly pushed past his limits. But deep down, he knew it was necessary. He had to grow stronger. There was no choice.
"You can do better," Roderick continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "Endurance is just the beginning. Once you can hold Ren for longer than you did today, you will learn to manipulate it in ways that will make you dangerous. But until then, you're just another pawn."
Kairo glanced up at him, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like forever. There was a coldness to Roderick's words, but there was also something else—a hint of recognition, perhaps even approval.
The realization hit Kairo like a slap: He was being shaped. He wasn't just being tested—he was being molded into something more. But as much as he hated the way Roderick pushed him, he understood. The world outside the walls of this facility was harsh, unforgiving. If he wanted to survive, to escape, he had to grow stronger, faster. There was no other choice.
Kairo stood slowly, his legs shaking under him, but he stood tall. He wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.