I stood in the center of the training room, forcing my lungs to expand and contract in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The air felt strangely heavy, weighing down on my chest. No matter how many times I told myself this was only a simulation, my pulse thudded relentlessly against my ribs.
Today was entirely different from our usual routine. Papa intended to push me right to the absolute edge—to the precise breaking point where my willpower would either unlock my Prana or shatter entirely.
A tight knot twisted deep in my stomach. *Please let me awaken it quickly,* I thought, staring at the empty floor. I really didn't want to spend the entire morning absorbing a ruthless beating.
The silence of the room broke as heavy, measured footsteps echoed down the corridor. I fixed my gaze on the entrance. Papa walked in first, his posture perfectly rigid.
A moment later, Mummy trailed in behind him, looking like she was still locked in a fierce battle with sleep. Her long black hair was slightly messy, drifting loosely around her shoulders.
Another enormous yawn escaped her lips. She lazily rubbed at one eye, her shoulders drooping. "I can't believe you dragged me out of bed before sunrise..." she muttered, her voice thick with exhaustion.
Her gaze drifted across the floor until it settled on me, her sharp features instantly softening into a warm smile. "Good morning, Rohan."
"Morning, Mom," I replied, forcing a small smile back.
She stretched both arms high above her head, letting out a long, slow breath. "So..." Another massive yawn cut her sentence short. "...I'm ready to cast spells."
Despite the crushing tension in my chest, I couldn't help but chuckle. For someone who specialized in high-level illusion magic, Mummy looked far too harmless.
Most people imagined illusion specialists as shadowy, mysterious figures lurking in the dark, manipulating their enemies with terrifying incantations. Instead, mine looked like she would gladly trade the entire universe for another three hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Papa ignored our brief exchange entirely. His face remained completely expressionless, his eyes cool and sharp as he looked at me. "Are you ready?"
I squeezed the air out of my lungs, drew a deep breath, and nodded firmly. "I am."
Even to my own ears, my voice sounded a lot more confident than I actually felt. Papa noticed the slight tremor instantly. The faintest ghost of a smile threatened to twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it vanished before it could truly form.
"Good," he said simply.
Mummy quietly stepped away, walking toward the far side of the room. Unlike offensive magicians, illusion specialists rarely stood anywhere near the center of a battlefield.
Their greatest strength had never been direct destruction. It was absolute control. They controlled exactly what an opponent saw, what they heard, and what they physically felt. Eventually, they controlled what the target believed.
Once an illusionist reached the higher ranks, a victim's own senses could no longer separate reality from fiction. Fortunately for me, Mummy wasn't planning to trap my mind forever. She only needed my brain to believe one specific thing: that I was fighting for my life.
I closed my eyes, cutting off the sight of the familiar training room. Just as I had done before, I reached deep inward, utilizing Perfect Control.
First came the familiar, heavy mental lock. My second superpower completely vanished from my conscious reach. The memory of my radiant heat vision slid beneath a hypnotic seal I had carefully constructed myself.
Next, I focused on Perfect Control itself. Rather than forcing myself to forget it entirely, I chose to convince my own mind of a different lie. I let my subconscious believe that Papa had already suppressed it.
My sluggish limbs, my delayed reactions, and every single awkward movement of my body became concrete proof inside my mind. It was living evidence that my primary superpower had already been sealed away.
The illusion settled over my mind naturally, anchoring itself deeply. When I tested the thought, it felt entirely undisputed. It felt completely real. *Good,* I thought, steadying my mind.
Nearby, Mummy’s chanting began. Unlike ordinary speech, every syllable carried a strange, rhythmic resonance. It was soft, gentle, and almost musical.
The low sound echoed off the walls, vibrating through the structure of the room. The air itself seemed to hum. A cool, crisp sensation brushed against the bare skin of my arms.
For a single fraction of a second, the entire universe became perfectly silent.
Then, reality shattered.
The training room instantly vanished. The polished wooden floor beneath my feet disappeared, replaced by something rough and uneven. The bright ceiling lights faded into a pitch-black void.
When I opened my eyes, I was standing somewhere completely foreign. A thick, damp smell of moss and wet earth filled my nose. Cold air rushed across my face, biting at my cheeks.
Somewhere far off in the darkness, water dripped rhythmically against stone. *Drip. Drip. Drip.*
I slowly turned my head, scanning the area. A massive cave stretched around me. The jagged stone walls extended high into the shadows, swallowing up what little light managed to filter through.
The ground beneath my shoes was jagged, littered with loose shale and patches of damp mud. I looked around wildly, searching for a way out. Only a single exit existed.
And something was blocking it completely.
A gigantic humanoid creature stood directly between me and the passage to freedom. Its towering frame was wrapped in thick, overlapping black scales that caught the dim light, gleaming like polished steel.
Each sharp claw looked long enough to tear through solid bedrock without breaking. Deep within the darkness of its facial features, two crimson eyes glowed with an unnatural light.
They never blinked. They simply stared right through me, watching and waiting.
My breathing turned shallow, my throat tightening. Cold sweat instantly broke out across my palms, making them slick. Every single defensive instinct inside my body screamed a single, terrifying command: *Run.*
But my legs refused to move. There was absolutely nowhere to run. The only exit out of this nightmare was positioned directly behind the beast.
A violent tremor rippled through my frame. Fighting down the rising panic, I forced my limbs into the combat stance Papa had drilled into me thousands of times.
Left foot forward. Hands raised defensively. Weight perfectly balanced.
No, it wasn't balanced at all. My knees shook uncontrollably, and my shoulders felt entirely too stiff. Even my breathing had broken into a ragged, uneven pattern. It was easily the worst stance I had ever taken in my life.
The monster noticed my weakness immediately. Without giving me even a fraction of a second to adjust, it exploded forward.
The massive distance between us vanished in a heartbeat. One enormous, scaled claw swept through the darkness, tearing straight toward my chest. It was too fast—far too fast for me to track.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have stood a chance at dodging an attack of this speed. But in that exact moment, a raw, primal instinct erupted inside my skull.
*Move! If you don't move right now, you die!*
Every single ounce of my willpower concentrated into one desperate, explosive command to my limbs. *Move!*
My sluggish body finally responded. I threw myself violently to the side, tumbling across the ground. The massive claw sliced through empty air, passing right over the spot where my chest had been less than a heartbeat prior.
The sheer force of the swing unleashed a violent gust of wind that slammed against my face. I crashed heavily onto the rough stone floor, loose rocks scraping painfully across my shoulder.
A sharp spike of pain shot down my arm. Ignoring the sting entirely, I rolled twice over the gravel before scrambling back onto my feet. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that it completely drowned out the ambient sounds of the cave.
The beast didn't immediately follow up with another attack. Instead, it simply turned its massive head, watching me pull myself up.
Its glowing red eyes carried an unmistakable flash of mockery, as if it had expected significantly less from me. *Is... is it playing with me?* A sickening chill ran straight down my spine. Strangely, I didn't feel a single spark of anger. Why would I? Anger was an emotion you reserved for an equal, not for a creature so overwhelmingly powerful that it could crush the life out of you whenever it chose.
What I felt instead was pure, unadulterated desperation.
I clenched both fists until my knuckles turned white. "I'm not going down without a fight!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the stone walls.
For a brief instant, the monster paused. Its crimson eyes narrowed slightly as it looked at me, almost as if it approved of the defiance.
Then, it lowered its massive center of gravity once more, preparing to lunge.
This time, I forced my mind to quiet down. The first exchange had taught me an invaluable lesson: panicking only made my physical movements slower and more awkward.
I drew a slow, measured breath and actively settled into a proper, grounded stance. Left foot forward. Right foot anchoring me from behind. My knees bent slightly, absorbing the tension as my weight spread evenly across both legs. It felt much better.
The beast lunged forward again. Its massive claw cut a lethal arc through the air, aiming squarely for my head. But this time, my eyes were locked onto its movements.
During its previous attack, I had caught a subtle tell. Whenever the creature swung its massive arm, its shoulder rotated aggressively forward, exposing nearly half of its unprotected torso.
*There.* That was the opening.
The claw flashed past my face, missing by inches as I ducked beneath the swing. Instead of retreating to safety, I stepped forward, driving myself straight into its guard.
My entire torso twisted with the movement as I launched my fist toward its exposed chest, putting every single ounce of physical strength I possessed into the blow.
*Thud!*
The heavy impact echoed through the cavernous space. The monster's forward advance halted for a fraction of a second, but that was all. It hadn't even staggered backward.
It simply tilted its massive head down, looking at the exact spot where my fist had landed before shifting its glowing eyes back up to meet mine. There wasn't a hint of pain on its face—only pure amusement.
I immediately vaulted backward, putting several meters of distance between us. "...So that's how it is," I muttered under my breath, my voice shaking.
I simply wasn't strong enough to hurt it. At least, not yet.
The beast didn't rush in to close the gap. Instead, it slowly began to circle me, its heavy footsteps vibrating through the floor. Its long claws scraped lightly against the solid stone. *Scrrrrch... Scrrrrch...*
It wasn't attacking. It was waiting, hunting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
I refused to blink, keeping my eyes locked on every microscopic movement of its body. I watched its shoulders, its hips, its breathing, and every tiny twitch of its muscles.
Seconds ticked away, bleeding into a minute, then another. Three agonizing minutes crawled past. To my strained mind, it felt like an eternity.
The mental pressure was becoming entirely unbearable. Keeping every single nerve taut and focused for that long drained my energy far faster than any physical workout ever had.
My breathing turned ragged. Heavy drops of sweat rolled down my forehead, stinging my eyes. My vision blurred for the briefest fraction of a second.
That tiny lapse in concentration was all the monster needed. It exploded forward.
My instincts screamed in alarm. I tried to twist away and react, but I was too late. The heavy claw slashed violently across my left arm.
An explosive white-hot pain ripped through my entire nervous system. "AAAGH!" I screamed, stumbling backward and grabbing at my forearm.
Warm blood poured freely between my tightly pressed fingers. Within seconds, the sleeve of my training uniform was soaked a deep crimson. The agony was so intense that my knees buckled, nearly sending me to the floor.
Cold sweat drenched my back. I stared at the wound in absolute horror. *It's over... my arm... it's completely ruined...*
Pure panic consumed every rational thought left in my head. In my terror, I failed to notice something crucial: the beast had deliberately held back. If it had truly wanted me dead, that single strike would have split my torso completely in half.
Outside the illusion, reality looked entirely different.
Vikram stood only a few short paces away from his son, his expression completely calm. The terrifying, deep wound Rohan believed he had just suffered was actually nothing more than a few shallow scratches across his forearm. It was barely enough to break the skin and draw blood.
Yet Rohan's entire body was reacting exactly as if his arm had just been violently torn from his shoulder. His breathing was frantic and shallow, his muscles trembling with violent tremors. Tears born of sheer physical pain gathered at the corners of his tightly shut eyes.
That was the frightening, absolute power of high-level illusion magic. A truly skilled illusionist didn't merely trick the eyes; they entirely convinced the mind. If the brain accepted a threat as absolute reality, the physical body followed its instructions without question.
Anjali's face had gone completely pale as she watched from the side. Witnessing her own son endure this kind of agonizing torment was anything but easy.
Vikram glanced over his shoulder toward her, their eyes locking in the dim light of the training room. He didn't speak a single word, but he didn't need to. *He's losing focus. Do something.*
Anjali bit her lower lip, her fingers tightening as she maintained the complex spell structure. *Another layer... just one more.* She gently shifted the parameters of the illusion. She didn't alter the layout of the cave, nor did she change the appearance of the monster. Instead, she planted a single, resonant thought deep within Rohan's subconscious mind.
Inside the illusion, a strange, piercing question suddenly surfaced through the fog of my panic.
*If I die right here... what will happen to Mom and Dad?*
The thought appeared out of nowhere, entirely unbidden. In my mind's eye, I saw Mom smiling warmly while serving dinner at the table. I saw Papa silently adjusting my posture during training. I saw my birthday banner, the cake, and Riya laughing at me.
Would all of that simply disappear? Would my parents be forced to blame themselves for the rest of their lives? Would Mom cry every single day because she hadn't been fast enough to save me?
My ragged breathing slowly began to steady. The paralyzing fear remained, but a fierce, burning determination rose up right beside it, eclipsing the pain.
"No..." I whispered, my voice growing steady. "I'm not dying here."
I squeezed my fists together until my fingernails dug painfully into my palms. The next time the monster charged forward, I didn't take a single step back.
Instead, I rushed straight toward it.
The beast opened its massive jaws, unleashing a furious, deafening roar. Without a shred of hesitation, I thrust my left hand directly into its open mouth.
Outside the simulation, Vikram's eyes widened in genuine surprise for the very first time.
*Aiming straight for the throat...*
If this had been an actual life-or-death struggle against a wild beast, the desperate maneuver actually had a real chance of working. It was a brutal, all-or-nothing gamble. You either crushed the creature's windpipe from the inside or you lost the arm entirely.
It was precisely the kind of savage decision someone made when survival mattered infinitely more than physical pain. *A good choice,* Vikram thought, a grim spark of satisfaction touching his mind. *He's finally fighting like a man backed into a corner.*
Of course, Vikram wasn't actually going to let Rohan shove his bare hand down his throat. He shifted his head slightly to the side, letting the hand miss its mark.
Almost instantly, Vikram retaliated with a swift strike from Rohan's blind spot. Under normal training conditions, Rohan would have instinctively tried to dodge the counter.
But he didn't. He completely accepted the incoming hit.
Rohan's own fist continued flying forward, driving straight toward the beast. He was trading an injury in exchange for landing a blow of his own.
Again. And again. And again.
For nearly thirty relentless seconds, neither of them yielded an inch of ground. Vikram's fingers barely grazed his son's body—delivering nothing more than harmless taps and tiny scratches.
Yet under the crushing weight of Anjali's illusion, every single touch translated into a horrifying, bleeding wound. Deep cuts seemed to cover Rohan's arms, his shoulders, his chest, and his legs.
Imaginary blood soaked through his training clothes. His breathing grew noticeably weaker with every passing second.
Still, he absolutely refused to stop.
Anjali's heart twisted painfully in her chest. Every protective instinct screaming inside her head begged her to terminate the spell immediately. *Enough. This is more than enough.* She wanted nothing more than to run forward, pull Rohan into a tight embrace, and tell him that the nightmare was finally over. But she forced her feet to stay glued to the floor. Not yet.
If she broke the illusion prematurely, every single bit of suffering he had just endured would be entirely meaningless. Her trembling gaze shifted toward her husband, a flash of raw anger burning in her eyes. *This is entirely your fault.*
Vikram didn't offer a response. He couldn't, because deep down, he completely agreed with her. If there had been any other path to trigger the awakening, he would have chosen it without a single moment of hesitation.
Unfortunately, there wasn't.
The entire rhythm of the brutal battle suddenly shifted. Vikram launched an attack using the exact same pattern as before—the familiar, heavy sweeping strike.
This time, I didn't even bother looking at it. The blinding pain no longer mattered. The suffocating fear no longer mattered. Only a single, burning directive remained in my mind: *Win.*
I charged forward blindly. The massive claw slammed heavily into my side, but I ignored the sensation entirely. I crashed my entire weight directly into the monster's massive torso.
Wrapping both of my arms tightly around its thick, scaled neck, I squeezed with every single shred of remaining strength left in my fading body.
"If... I'm dying..." I gasped, my throat burning as I locked my grip. "...you're coming with me!"
My vision blurred into complete darkness, and my muscles screamed in agony. But I refused to let go.
Outside the simulation, Vikram could have broken the hold at any given moment. Snapping Rohan's desperate grip would have required almost no physical effort from him.
Instead, he remained perfectly still, trapped in his son's embrace. His experienced eyes carefully monitored every single microscopic fluctuation occurring inside Rohan's body. He tracked his breathing, his spiked pulse, and his dormant energy.
Then, a faint, radiant spark—almost too minuscule to detect—finally stirred deep within the core of Rohan's body.
Vikram's eyes narrowed instantly, his focus sharpening.
*It's beginning.*