The morning was quiet.
Sai opened his eyes. The room he had slept in was a mix between a laboratory and a library: old books with darkened pages, vials of unknown liquids, pieces of metal and stone covered in strange symbols. In the corner, a small mechanism hissed quietly, as if breathing on its own.
He stretched, feeling a slight ache in his muscles. Yesterday's training had left its mark. But… inside, there was a strange feeling. Heaviness—yes, fatigue—that too, but somewhere deep beneath it all, lived a tiny spark of satisfaction?
He didn't understand why. After all, all he had done was stand, breathe, and nearly collapse from exhaustion. But perhaps it wasn't about the body.
He looked around, noticing the crystal on the table—the very one that had glowed in the old man's hands yesterday. Now it was dull, as if lying in wait.
Sai approached it, reaching out his hand.
"Just try it," a familiar voice came from behind him.
Sai spun around—Grandpa was standing in the doorway, holding a mug, with that eternal squint that hid a mockery.
"I… was just looking," Sai said quickly.
"Of course. Everyone's 'just looking' until they blow up half the house," Grandpa smirked. "Well, good morning, hero of the day."
Sai lowered his gaze. "I'm not a hero."
"Not yet," the old man took a sip and nodded. "But you're not a corpse anymore. Progress."
He walked past and placed his hand on the crystal. It instantly came to life, shining with a warm light.
"See? Energy responds to will. Not to fear, not to force, but to clarity. Understand?"
Sai nodded, though he only half understood.
"Today," Grandpa set his mug down, "I'll show you why power isn't just a word."
---
They went out into the yard. The air was cold, the grass covered in dew. Sai felt every breath cut his lungs.
Grandpa stopped in the middle of the yard, took a breath, and raised his hand.
"Watch carefully," he said.
For a moment, everything around them seemed to freeze. The air darkened, space quivered. The ground beneath Sai's feet began to vibrate, and from the shadow at the old man's feet, figures began to rise—silhouettes, formless and black as the abyss itself. They moved slowly, as if through thick smoke, but every step made Sai retreat.
"What… is that?.." he whispered.
"Echoes," Grandpa replied calmly. "A resonance of will, frozen between life and death. This isn't magic or an illusion. It's awareness, materialized into form."
One of the shadows approached. Sai instinctively stepped back. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst out.
"Don't be afraid," the old man turned his head towards him. "They won't harm you. If you don't fear them."
If I don't fear them? Sai could barely contain his trembling. Everything inside him screamed 'run'. But he didn't move.
The shadows hovered around Grandpa. And then—they vanished. Instantly, without a flash, without a sound.
The air returned to normal.
"See?" Grandpa smiled. "Power isn't destruction. It's understanding boundaries. The ability to be above what frightens you."
Sai still couldn't utter a word. He looked at the old man and couldn't comprehend—was he even human?
"You… who are you?.." he finally forced out.
Grandpa laughed. "I was human once. Now… I'm just an old man, tired of other people's fear."
He walked up to Sai and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's been 379 years since the nightmare we call the Last War. The world has survived gods, demons, and human folly. And now it's slowly recovering. But the monsters are still here—not just outside, but inside too."
He looked Sai straight in the eyes.
"I want you to become the one who can stop them. When I've taught you everything I can, I will send you to the Academy of the Inner Reaches."
"The Academy?.." Sai repeated, feeling a chill in his chest.
"Yes. There, you will learn what it truly means to be strong. Truly. Not someone who hides behind fear."
Sai lowered his gaze. "I don't know if I can…"
"But I do," Grandpa interrupted. "Because you've already started."
He straightened up, turning towards the house. "But enough philosophy. The body must learn too. Follow me."
---
The next few hours were torture.
Grandpa made him run, hold stances, punch sandbags, balance with his eyes closed. It felt like every movement was breaking his muscles.
"Don't stand there like a dead fish!" Grandpa shouted, laughing. "Inhale—movement, exhale—life! If you can't stand, you're not living!"
Sai fell, got up, fell again.
"I… can't!.." he exhaled.
"You can! You just don't want to!" the old man replied, and his voice held no anger—only strength.
He came closer, knelt on one knee, and looked at Sai.
"Listen carefully. Power isn't a fist. It's three things: awareness, control, and intent. Without awareness—you are blind. Without control—you are a beast. Without intent—you are nothing."
Sai listened, breathing heavily.
"And if I can't?.."
Grandpa smirked. "Then you'll just try again. Until you can."
---
The sun dipped towards the horizon. The sky turned gold, then crimson.
Sai sat on the ground, covered in dust, sweat, and exhaustion.
Grandpa stood beside him, looking into the distance, as if into eternity.
"Not bad for a first day," he finally said. "At least you didn't die."
Sai looked at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or not.
"And now," Grandpa turned and headed for the house, "time for the most important training."
"More?" Sai groaned.
"Dinner," the old man grinned.
---
The kitchen smelled of something strange. A mix of spices, smoke, and… something else. Sai cautiously sat down at the wooden table, watching the old man bustle by the stove.
"What is this?" he asked when the old man placed a bowl of something dark and aromatic in front of him.
"A secret of the ancient masters," Grandpa replied in a serious tone. Then he snorted. "Or just what was left after experiments with alchemical meat."
Sai froze. "Are you joking?.."
"No. Eat," said the old man, sitting down opposite him. "If you don't die—it means your body is ready for cultivation."
Sai picked up a spoon, sniffed it. The smell was… strange. But not disgusting.
He took a bite—and was surprised. It was… delicious?
Grandpa burst out laughing. "Hah! I told you! You've probably never tasted anything like it, right?"
Sai shook his head, smiling for the first time that day.
"No… I haven't."
"Then remember this taste," said the old man, looking at him seriously. "This is the taste of survival. Not prosperity. Not comfort. Life."
Sai looked into the bowl, then at Grandpa.
And for the first time in a long time, he thought:
Maybe… I really do want to live?..