Zeroth woke up with a pounding head and a strange emptiness in his chest. His body felt heavy, almost as if some invisible force had left its mark on him overnight. The events of the previous day—the Magic Extraction, the visions, the voices—still lingered in his mind like a shadow he couldn't shake. He felt dizzy, disoriented, as if the world had subtly shifted while he slept.
"Finally woke up, huh? You scared me." Kaelor's voice cut through the haze, calm yet sharp, carrying that same unsettling edge that always made Zeroth tense.
"What… what happened to me? Weren't we training?" Zeroth's voice trembled, half terror, half confusion.
Kaelor tilted his head, smirking in that sharp, calculated way that felt more like a predator studying prey than a mentor speaking to a student. "I don't know. I'm asking you. You shattered the ground, bent gravity, made the air itself feel tight. None of this was supposed to happen. Normal Magic Extractions barely ripple the world. Tell me, what did you see?"
"I… I don't know exactly. I only saw suffering. Pain. Death. Nothing else… no joy, no desires. Isn't a dream supposed to reflect what you want? Then why… why was my mother suffering instead of living happily?" Zeroth's voice broke, and a cold knot twisted in his stomach.
Kaelor didn't answer. He just smirked, that strange, sharp smile that suggested he already knew more than he was letting on.
They walked outside together, to a quiet clearing within the Vitral Clan grounds. The air was crisp, but heavy, as if it carried the weight of unspoken truths. Kaelor's eyes scanned Zeroth like he was reading a complex equation, a mixture of caution, curiosity, and anticipation.
"Now," Kaelor said, his tone deceptively calm, "since you've awakened the flow, it's time to shape it. Magic is no longer just inside you—it is you, projected outward. Imagine what you saw during the Extraction. Now try to make it real, bring it into this world."
Zeroth closed his eyes. He tried to recall every fragment of his vision—the agony, the screams, the overwhelming chaos—but nothing obeyed him. The air remained stubbornly still. Sparks of frustration flared inside him, but every attempt fell apart, slipping like water through his fingers.
Minutes turned into hours. Sweat poured down his face, dirt smeared his arms, his small hands trembled with exhaustion. And still, nothing.
A tiny black spark flickered in his palm for a fleeting second—but it vanished the moment he stumbled. Zeroth collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving, bitter despair clawing at his heart. Part of him wanted to surrender, to curl into a ball and stop fighting. Another part refused to quit, gnawing at him with silent rage.
Kaelor said nothing. He merely watched, patient, unblinking. It was a quiet observation, yet it carried a weight far heavier than any words.
"MAN, IT DOESN'T WORK! I—I'M USELESS! I HAVE NO TALENT!" Zeroth screamed, voice cracking, tears streaking the dirt on his face.
Kaelor knelt to meet him at eye level, eyes locking onto Zeroth's. "Patience is the key. A wise man once told me: every choice has consequences. Perhaps this… this struggle is yours."
"I DON'T CARE! I CAN'T DO IT! I'M WEAK! I'M NOTHING!" Zeroth's voice shattered with every word.
Kaelor's expression hardened. "If you can't do it, then who will? If no one else will protect your mother, what will you do? Will you abandon her because it's hard? Because it's unfair? Wake up, Zeroth. Do not stop when it is impossible. Do not stop when your body screams to quit. Only stop when there is nothing left to give."
Zeroth collapsed further into the mud, sobbing like a child who had seen the world's cruelty too early. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long, twisted shadows across the training ground. Every failure, every spark that sputtered and died, carved into him a deeper understanding of his own weakness.
Yet Kaelor remained. Silent. Patient. Observing. Waiting.
"I—I want to go home. I don't want this. Bring me back!" Zeroth whispered, broken.
Kaelor's eyes narrowed, his voice sharp now, tinged with anger and disappointment. "Do you forget yourself already? Do you forget the hell you endured back home? You survived the mockery, the cruelty, the endless grind. You think a single day of difficulty here can break you?"
"It's not fair!" Zeroth screamed. "I—God, I am weak! Helpless! I never wanted this! I never wanted to be born like this!"
Then, the air shifted. The weight around him thickened, heavy and suffocating, like a tangible pressure pressing down on his small frame. A whisper threaded through the chaos of his thoughts.
"Fate… Have you considered someone else deciding your life?"
"What if you are strong… and simply don't know it yet?"
"Would you kneel if your mother's life hung in the balance? Of course not. So why do you stop now? Try until your body breaks. Until every part of you is exhausted. Every choice has consequences."
The voices were no longer distant. They penetrated his mind directly, crystal clear, impossible to ignore. Zeroth froze, heart hammering. Kaelor's smirk widened—not the usual playful smirk, but something sharper, colder, and infinitely more unsettling.
A spark ignited in Zeroth's eyes—small at first, then flaring into something far more dangerous. Hunger. Determination. A burning desire to seize everything, to surpass weakness, to never again be powerless.
He drew a deep breath, recalling every story, every lesson, every whispered word his mother had ever shared. He remembered the history, the clans, the pain and glory of generations. And then, finally, it happened.
Black sparks swirled around his hands. They coalesced, pure and raw, bending the air, cracking the ground, radiating from him like a living shadow. His body seemed to dissolve into darkness, yet he remained whole. Everything near him was consumed by the strange, alien energy: grass burned, the wind distorted, gravity itself faltered.
Kaelor stepped back, momentarily stunned, then forced himself to mask his fear. "This… is impossible. No one should wield multiple magics at once, yet here you are."
Zeroth stood tall, aura pulsing with raw potential and terrifying promise. His eyes were dead in one sense, hollowed by witnessing suffering, yet aflame with insatiable hunger. At ten years old, he radiated something frightening—someone who had glimpsed unimaginable pain yet hungered for power regardless.
Kaelor's voice broke the silence, filled with awe and a hint of pride. "This is it. You've passed the first phase of training. You are now a true magician. But remember… this is only the beginning."
Zeroth's lips curled into a faint, chilling smile. "I will achieve my dreams. I will do whatever it takes. No matter the cost. No matter the pain. No matter what… nothing will stop me." (So he thought)
The wind carried the echoes of his resolve, and the shadows around him seemed to bend toward his will. A child had stepped into the abyss of power—and in that abyss, he had begun to hunger for everything.