I locked both of my arms around the beast's massive neck from behind, squeezing with every ounce of strength left in my fading body. For a split second, my mind went completely blank. How did I even get here?
Just a moment ago, the creature had been standing right in front of me, dominating the entire training room. I hadn't seen an opening, and I certainly hadn't planned a counterattack. Yet somehow, I had slipped behind it. My grip wrapped around its thick, scaled neck before my conscious mind could even process the movement.
The thought barely had time to form before the beast exploded into motion. A deafening roar shook the walls, vibrating straight through the floorboards.
Its enormous body twisted violently from side to side, desperate to throw me off. Every muscle beneath its rough hide bulged with terrifying, monstrous strength. I ground my teeth together, locking my jaw. *Don't let go.*
The beast suddenly lurched forward. My feet tore away from the ground for a terrifying instant before slamming right back against the floor. The impact sent a painful jolt straight up my legs, but I only tightened my hold in response.
It wasn't enough to stop it. The monster kept thrashing like a wild storm, its sharp claws raking wildly through the empty air and narrowly missing my face. Each violent wrench of its torso threatened to snap my arms away from its neck.
My forearms burned fiercely. My shoulders screamed in absolute protest, and every muscle in my upper body felt like it was being ripped apart. Still, I refused to loosen my grip.
I poured every single shred of my remaining strength into my hands, trying to crush its throat. Nothing happened. The beast kept fighting as though my full physical power meant absolutely nothing to it.
Cold panic flooded my chest. *What do I do? If this doesn't work, I'm dead.* The realization struck me harder than any of the monster's physical attacks. If I died right here, what would happen to Mom? To Dad? Would they blame themselves for pushing me too hard? Would they have to bury their own son?
"No..." I gritted my teeth until they data-cracked. "I'm not dying. Not here. Not today."
Without warning, the beast threw its entire weight backward. My vision blurred as my back slammed against the floor with crushing force.
"Urgh!" The air ripped from my lungs, and a white-hot flash of pain exploded through my spine.
For a fraction of a second, my grip weakened. Sensing the opening, the beast immediately tried to wrench itself free. My fingers began to slip against its skin.
"No!" I forced them shut again, locking my hands together with pure desperation.
The muscles in my arms trembled violently under the strain. I couldn't hold on much longer. My breathing turned ragged, each inhale burning my throat while every exhale felt weaker than the last.
The beast continued struggling relentlessly, its monstrous strength refusing to yield. Fear clawed at the edge of my mind, threatening to swallow me whole. *Think. Think! There has to be something!*
Then, an answer appeared. It wasn't a complex technique or a grand martial arts strategy. It was just a single, primal thought. *Choke it.*
That was all. Nothing else mattered anymore. Not the blinding pain, not the suffocating fear, and not even myself. Only one directive remained: *Choke it.*
Every shred of my concentration narrowed entirely onto that single command. My heartbeat thundered inside my ears, drowning out the rest of the world. *Choke it.*
Slowly, the training room began to fade away. The beast's furious roars became distant muffled echoes, and the agonizing pain disappeared into the background. Even the desperate need for my next breath no longer existed. There was only one objective left. *Don't let go. Choke it.*
I didn't realize it, and in that state, I couldn't. But something deep inside my body answered that desperate, burning resolve. Hidden away in the deepest part of my soul—something that had remained completely silent since the day I was born—finally stirred.
At first, it was faint, like a tiny spark buried beneath endless layers of darkness. Then, the spark caught. A sudden warmth blossomed near the center of my chest.
It spread slowly at first, creeping through my ribs, rising into my shoulders, and pouring down both of my arms. I barely noticed it in the beginning. Compared to the overwhelming agony filling my body, the gentle heat felt tiny.
But it didn't stop. It grew faster, gathering momentum until the warmth transformed into a rushing, violent current. It surged through my veins like a raging river breaking through a shattered dam. An indescribable, raw energy flooded every single corner of my frame.
Then, it erupted.
Power exploded outward in a violent torrent. An invisible wave burst from my body, coating every inch of my skin in a dense pressure. The warmth engulfed me entirely. It wasn't the burning heat of an open fire, nor was it the comforting warmth of sunlight. It felt alive, as though it had always belonged to me.
Strength—pure, overwhelming strength—poured into my exhausted muscles. The burning pain in my arms vanished in an instant. The violent trembling stopped completely.
My grip tightened instinctively, and the beast's frantic struggles suddenly felt lighter. Much lighter.
My breathing steadied. The agony from the countless wounds covering my body dulled into a faint, meaningless ache. Even my exhausted mind became strangely, perfectly clear.
The energy continued flowing endlessly through me, answering my thoughts before I could even consciously voice them. It felt entirely natural, as though my body had finally remembered a fundamental part of itself that it had forgotten long ago.
Then, a strange feeling crept into my mind. Something wasn't right.
The overwhelming killing intent that had been radiating from the beast was gone. Its violent resistance suddenly felt familiar.
Confusion flickered across my face, and my hands loosened on instinct. Without fully understanding why, I slowly released my grip.
The very instant I let go, the fog clouding my mind shattered completely. Memories flooded back in a single, overwhelming wave, and the entire illusion collapsed into nothingness.
The towering monster vanished as if it had never existed. Standing directly in front of me was Papa. He calmly rolled his shoulders, casually rubbing the side of his neck with one hand.
"Hm," he winced slightly, a faint smile on his face. "That was a tighter chokehold than I expected."
I froze. My brain completely stopped working.
I stared at him. Then I looked down at my own hands, then right back up at him. "...Papa?"
He looked perfectly fine. He wasn't terrified, he wasn't injured, and he wasn't even annoyed. He was just casually massaging his neck as if someone had merely pinched him a little too hard.
My mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "I..." My face twitched as I pointed a shaking finger at him. "I was... the monster..."
Papa raised an eyebrow. "What monster?"
I stood there in complete, stunned silence. Then everything clicked into place. The illusion. The brutal fight. The terrifying injuries. The desperate struggle. None of it had been real.
"...Seriously?" I let out a hollow, breathy laugh. "I almost strangled you to death."
Papa chuckled, adjusting his collar. "You can try again after another ten years of training."
Despite his joking tone, I couldn't help staring at him in disbelief. Then, another realization hit me. The wounds.
My eyes widened. I hurriedly looked down at my body, expecting to find torn flesh, deep claw marks, and blood soaking through my clothes.
Instead, there were only a handful of shallow scratches scattered across my arms and chest. Nothing more. And even those tiny marks were changing right before my eyes.
The torn skin slowly began knitting itself back together. The scratches grew thinner, then lighter, as though invisible hands were stitching them closed from the inside out.
I blinked, completely mesmerized. "What...?"
The cuts continued shrinking until they were barely visible. Through it all, the warm current still flowed peacefully through every inch of my body.
The truth struck me like lightning. *Prana.*
A massive grin spread across my face before I could stop it. I had done it. I had actually awakened my Prana.
My heart pounded with raw excitement. The heavy exhaustion that had nearly crushed me moments ago suddenly didn't matter at all. I closed my eyes for a brief second and focused inward, checking the center of my chest.
There it was. A warm, radiant current flowing peacefully through my entire system. Unlike before, when it had erupted in a desperate surge, the energy now felt calm, obedient, and perfectly still—as if it had always been waiting for me to acknowledge it.
*Can I control it?* The thought had barely crossed my mind before the Prana responded. The warm current shifted instantly, flowing exactly where I wanted it to go. It moved smooth and effortless, without the slightest hint of resistance.
A look of pure astonishment spread across my face. "So this is it..."
I slowly guided a small strand of the Prana toward one of the remaining scratches on my forearm. The moment the energy reached the wound, the tingling sensation intensified.
I watched without blinking as the torn skin visibly pulled itself together. The faint trickle of blood dried up and disappeared. Within seconds, the scratch faded entirely, leaving behind no trace that it had ever existed.
I ran my fingers over the spot. It was perfectly smooth. Not even a scar remained.
I couldn't hide my smile. *Amazing...* So this was the true power of Prana. No wonder Papa had insisted that awakening it was so critical. Without it, my body would have needed days to heal these injuries. With it, they vanished in mere moments.
A large, heavy hand suddenly rested on my head. I looked up to see Papa smiling down at me. It wasn't his usual teasing smirk; this smile carried unmistakable, quiet pride.
"You actually did it." He gently ruffled my hair. "And here I was thinking it would take you at least a few months."
I blinked, taking a step back. "...Months?" I frowned. "But you said I could awaken it in a single day."
"I did." Papa scratched the back of his head, an awkward laugh escaping him. "And under normal circumstances, I would've been right."
He let out a quiet sigh, his expression gradually shifting into something much more serious. "I thought Perfect Control would make the process easier for you. Instead... it made things much harder."
I looked at him, completely confused. "How?"
Papa folded his arms across his chest. "When someone tries to awaken Prana through sheer determination, they're forcing their body to answer one overwhelming desire. But for you, your first instinct isn't Prana. It's Perfect Control."
I stared at him, trying to follow his logic. "What do you mean?"
"When your life felt like it was in danger, your mind unconsciously reached for the fastest, most familiar solution," Papa explained, tapping the side of his own head. "Your superpower. Perfect Control automatically tried to answer your will before your Prana could even surface."
My eyes slowly widened as the danger of the situation sank in. "So... I almost failed?"
Papa nodded grimly. "If things had continued that way... yes."
A sudden chill ran down my spine. He wasn't exaggerating.
"If your mother hadn't stepped in at exactly the right moment, you would've awakened your superpower instead of your Prana," Papa said. "And once that specific opportunity passed, it would've become far more difficult to awaken your Prana through raw willpower again."
I swallowed hard, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck. Just imagining going through another brutal fight like that made my entire body tense up. I never, ever wanted to experience something like that again.
I turned my head toward Mom. She had been quietly standing by, watching our conversation with a gentle smile. Our eyes met, and I lowered my head slightly.
"...Thank you."
Her smile softened even further. "You're welcome, Rohan."
After a brief silence, another question surfaced in my mind. "But..." I looked at her curiously. "How did you stop my superpower? I didn't even notice anything happen."
Mom took a few steps closer, her footsteps silent on the floorboards. "At the final moment, both of your superpowers were preparing to activate simultaneously. Because there is still such a massive difference between our overall strength, I was able to use my illusion magic to subtly interfere with your mind."
She smiled apologetically, tilting her head. "I only held your superpowers back for a few seconds. Just long enough for your Prana to surface and awaken first."
Realization finally dawned on me. "So that's why everything suddenly felt different at the end."
Mom nodded. "Exactly."
Papa clapped his hands together once, the sharp sound breaking the quiet atmosphere. "Alright, questions can wait until tomorrow." His tone was firm, but the unmistakable concern hidden beneath it was obvious. "You've pushed yourself far enough for one day. Go get some sleep."
The moment those words left his mouth, my body seemed to remember just how exhausted it actually was. My legs suddenly felt twice as heavy, and an enormous yawn escaped me before I could stop it.
Before today's training had even started, I had barely slept four hours. Then I had gone through what felt like a literal life-and-death struggle. Even if the monster and the worst of the injuries had been illusions, the physical and mental strain had been completely real. Every single ounce of energy had been squeezed out of me.
"...Yeah." I rubbed my burning eyes with the back of my hand. "I don't think I can stay awake any longer."
Papa chuckled, walking over to the exit. "I figured as much."
I gave both of them one last tired look. "...Good night."
"Good night," Mom replied warmly.
"Sleep well," Papa added.
I slowly dragged my feet out of the training room and toward my bedroom. The hallway felt unusually long, and each step became heavier than the last. By the time I reached my door, I was barely conscious.
I pushed the door open, stumbled inside, and collapsed face-first onto the mattress. I didn't even have enough strength to kick off my shoes. Within seconds, darkness pulled me under.
Silence settled over the training room the moment Rohan's dragging footsteps disappeared down the hallway. For several long moments, neither Vikram nor Anjali spoke.
Then, Anjali released a long, shaky breath. Only now, with her son safely out of the room, did she realize just how tense her entire body had been.
"I was genuinely worried," she admitted, looking toward the dark hallway. "For a moment... I really thought he wouldn't make it."
Vikram smiled faintly, his eyes soft. "So did I."
Anjali glanced up at him in surprise. "You certainly didn't look worried out there."
"I couldn't afford to." Vikram let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "If I had shown even a hint of hesitation or doubt, Rohan would've sensed it immediately through his instincts. I had to trust him completely."
Anjali nodded slowly, accepting the answer. Then, another thought entered her mind, and she turned back toward her husband. "Is it normal... for someone to awaken that much Prana on their very first attempt?"
Vikram's expression instantly became thoughtful. "No," he answered without a shred of hesitation. "It isn't."
He folded his arms, staring at the floor where Rohan had been lying just minutes ago. "I've never personally seen anyone awaken such an enormous, dense amount of Prana all at once. But... I've read historical records about people like that."
Anjali listened quietly, waiting for him to continue.
"There are rare individuals who possess an extraordinary natural affinity for Prana," Vikram explained. "For them, energy manipulation comes as naturally as breathing. Martial techniques that usually require years of grueling practice can sometimes be learned with frightening ease."
He shook his head and laughed softly to himself, a mix of disbelief and pride in his voice. "And here I was, thinking our son simply wasn't built for martial arts."
Anjali smiled, her eyes bright. "It seems we were just looking in the wrong place. His real gift isn't physical combat. It's energy."
She began tracing back through everything Rohan had accomplished since his first awakening. "His first superpower, Laser Eyes, already revolves entirely around gathering, shaping, and releasing pure energy. He didn't just awaken it; he developed two completely different applications for it on his own. The Thermal Beam and the Kinetic Beam."
She looked up at Vikram. "That alone would've been more than enough to call him a genius."
Vikram's chest swelled with unmistakable, fierce pride. "That's because he is one," his voice carried complete conviction. "He has awakened two entirely different superpowers. I've never heard of anyone in our records accomplishing something like that."
He looked toward the empty doorway once more. "As an awakener... his raw talent may very well be unmatched."
A comfortable, warm silence settled between the two parents. Both of them wore quiet smiles. It wasn't just because their son had become significantly stronger today, but because he had finally taken his first real step toward the path that would one day change his destiny.