The idea burned in his mind like a coal that would not cool. Sleep was impossible. His body was tired, but his thoughts raced, circling the same impossible concept: become the law itself. He rose from the mat, pulled on a training suit, and slipped out of his dorm.
The academy grounds were quiet at this hour. The festival lights had dimmed, the crowds dispersed, leaving only scattered lanterns swaying in the night breeze. His footsteps echoed on the stone paths as he made his way to the training sector, to a room he had never used before.
The Prana Chamber.
It was reserved for advanced meditation, a small circular building tucked between the main gym and the eastern wall. He paid the fee—two hundred credits for two hours—and the attendant unlocked the heavy wooden door. Inside, the world changed.
