The blue light at the end of the tunnel intensifies. The air smells of brick and plasma once more. With one final effort, Aku propels himself out of the corridor just as the walls slam shut with a dull thud that sends a gust of dust billowing outward.
He stops. His breathing is rhythmic, barely deeper than normal. He is in an antechamber that connects back to Tadeo's main hall. The instructor watches him from a distance, leaning on his cane, his monocle reflecting an unsettling stillness.
Aku brushes the dust off his shoulders with a sharp gesture. He has crossed the first phase. But he knows that, by Tadeo Jhons' standards, surviving is only the minimum requirement to begin learning.
The opening was finalized with a sharp mechanical click, the sound of massive gears finding their resting position. The two halves of the wall retracted to form a rectangular opening, tall and narrow, which seemed to tear through the cube' s geometry.
