The world swayed around Bright as Hailen steadied him.
His chest burned—no, glowed—with a heat that didn't belong to flesh or blood. Every heartbeat rippled down his arms, filling his veins with a pulse that felt too large, too ancient, too alive.
Hailen studied him with a seriousness Bright had never seen before.
"It's starting," the old fighter murmured. "You need to lie down."
Bright shook his head. "No—no, I'm fine."
Then his knees buckled.
Hailen caught him before he hit the sand.
"Idiot," the instructor muttered. "No one is 'fine' when their core begins to evolve."
Bright groaned as another surge of light shot through his chest.
It felt like something in him was cracking open—not like bone, but like a seal that had been waiting for years to split.
"Come," Hailen said, lifting him easily. "Initiation can't be stopped now."
The underground chamber beneath the eastern yard felt ancient—older than the facility, older than the sand, older than any training hall on record.
