The faint glow of the status window lingered for a second before fading, and I let the breath I'd been holding out in a slow stream.
Three percent. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Proof that even a drop of progress came with work.
But sword drills alone weren't enough. Kane had drilled that into us over and over. "Strength without mana is half a fighter. Learn to breathe with it, live with it, or be crushed by someone who does."
Fine. If I wanted to stand on equal ground with him, with Adrian, with anyone who was already looking down on me, I needed more than a sharper blade swing.
I closed my eyes. The training hall went still.
Mana.
It wasn't my first time feeling it. The mana tome Kane shoved at us had etched the basics into my head, whether I wanted them or not. But feeling wasn't the same as using.
I pulled inward, searching for that warmth coiled beneath the skin. A current, subtle but undeniable, threaded through me.
The moment I tried to push it, my body jolted like I'd touched a live wire. My arms stiffened, my pulse raced. The mana sputtered and slipped from my grip, dissolving uselessly.
"Too rough," I muttered. My voice sounded loud in the quiet room.
Again.
This time, I didn't force it. I let the current pool in my chest, then nudged it toward my arm, into my hand, down the blade. The metal shivered faintly. A faint green glow cover it.
And suddenly—
The world stopped.
The sword cut forward, but it wasn't just the sword. My own perception lurched, seconds elongating like rubber, my heartbeat echoing slower, louder. The blade blurred unnaturally, splitting through the air faster than my eyes could follow.
By the time it ended, I stumbled, nearly dropping the weapon.
Sweat poured down my temples. My lungs burned. But I grinned.
That hadn't been a normal swing. That had been mana. Time mana.
It came as naturally as swinging my sword.
Still buzzing, I tried again, but this time with something different.
A tug, a faint ripple in my gut, told me there was more. Another current, sharper, harder to grasp. I pushed into it.
The air shuddered.
A tremor rippled against the edge of my blade, like the space around it resisted. I slashed, and for an instant the cut carried farther than the sword itself, the air parting unnaturally. But the effort crushed down on me like gravity increased tenfold. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my knees buckled.
I collapsed to one knee, panting.
"Not… natural," I hissed between breaths. Not like time. Space was there, but wielding it was like fighting against my own muscles.
"Zane?"
I jerked my head up. Lyra stood at the doorway, daggers in hand, her hair still messy from sleep. She raised an eyebrow. "You're insane. It's five in the morning."
I wiped the sweat from my face with the back of my hand. "Says the girl holding knives before sunrise."
She padded across the mats, eyes narrowing. "What were you just doing? I felt the mana in the air."
"Trying… something new." I hesitated, then added, "Time. And space. I think."
Her lips parted in surprise. "Already?"
I nodded, still catching my breath. "Time flowed. Like it was waiting for me. Space… it worked, but it felt weird. Heavy."
She didn't answer immediately, only chewed her lip, thoughtful. Then, without another word, she planted her feet, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply.
I felt her mana stir.
The air bent.
Her form blurred sideways in a jagged skip, vanishing half a meter vanishing before reappearing right before my eyes. She gasped, stumbling as her balance gave way. One dagger clattered to the mat.
She blinked at me, wide-eyed. "Did I just—?"
"teleport," I finished, unable to keep the grin from tugging at my mouth. "Looked cleaner than mine."
Lyra picked up her dagger, still shaken. "It didn't fight me. Not really. Space just… answered."
"And time?" I pressed.
She tried again, but this time her aura faltered. The air around her wobbled, stuttered, then slipped away like sand through her fingers. She swore under her breath.
"Feels clunky. Like I'm trying to force gears together," she admitted, frustration flashing in her eyes.
I exhaled, leaning back on my heels. "So that's it. Time bends for me, space bends for you."
Lyra tilted her head, strands of damp hair sticking to her cheek. "Two halves of the same coin."
I tightened my grip on my swords.
We tested for nearly an hour.
I stretched seconds, flickering through slashes where my blade outran sound. She folded space, skipping sideways, slashing at angles no human could track. It drained us both quickly, but each repetition came a little easier, a little cleaner.
The more we pushed, the clearer the truth became: I was time-dominant, space secondary. She was the opposite.
When we finally clashed blades, her daggers covered in purple space mana against my swords covered in green time mana, the air fractured. My flicker met her fold, and instead of tearing apart, the distortions fused. A majestic golden light erupted from our connected blades.
For one heartbeat, my slowed perception locked perfectly with her warped distance.
Our movements were seamless. Her step landed precisely where my strike made an opening. My blade blurred exactly when her fold cut the angle. It was too precise to be a chance.
We broke apart, both of us breathing hard.
"That—" Lyra started.
"—wasn't a coincidence," I finished.
She laughed breathlessly, dropping to the mats. I joined her, the two of us sprawled side by side, staring up at the ceiling. My chest heaved, but I couldn't stop smiling.
Lyra's voice was quiet, almost reverent. "Yours bends the seconds. Mine bends the distance."
I closed my eyes. "…And together, we bend both."
For a long while, we lay in silence, sweat cooling against our skin. The city outside the windows was waking, traffic starting to hum far below.
Finally, Lyra rolled her head to look at me. "We keep this between us. For now."
I nodded. "If the world found out who knows what kind of experiments people would do on us."
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Agreed."
The digital clock on the far wall blinked 7:00. Two hours gone in a blink.
We groaned, dragging ourselves upright. My muscles trembled, my head spun with exhaustion, but for the first time, I felt like I'd touched something that was ours.
Training with Kane was still coming at nine. But whatever waited, I knew this:
Time had bent for me. Space had bent for Lyra.
And together, the universe itself would tremble.