People fear many things. The dark. Insects. Animals. The depths of the ocean. Death, hunger, sickness. But in this age, the thing people feared most could be summed up in a single word: Creatures.
Two months had passed.
One month had passed.
Eren hadn't been counting the days — there was no need. His body kept the count for him. The familiar burn in his calves when he woke up, the new weight in his shoulders, the low vibration that now lived at his fingertips. These things no longer felt foreign. They had become part of him.
One month. Every morning at five. Every evening in front of the dolls.
Dusk never explained anything twice. He would say something once, then wait. When someone made a mistake, he didn't comment — he simply watched. Sometimes for hours. Training under that silent gaze was its own kind of lesson.
At the end of the first week, Raphael had muttered, "Is that man even human?" No one answered. No one argued either.
The training room was cold in the early morning.
The light came from above as always, cold and even. The dough dolls stood lined up against the wall — flat-faced, thick-armed, and endlessly patient. One month later, they still looked exactly the same. Every day they were beaten a little more, and every night Gus reshaped them. By morning, they were perfect again.
Kayra was the first to enter. Orin followed, then Eren. Raphael paused at the door, looked at the dolls, muttered something under his breath, and stepped inside.
Dusk waited in the center of the room. His shadow sat wrong on the floor, as always.
"Continue."
One word. It was enough.
Kayra's left fist came down.
Kaba was active — his hands glowed with a dull grey-brown, the earth element compressed and stable on the surface. The second punch came from the right, and this time Suru flowed through his legs as well, adding weight and power to every strike.
The doll slid back three steps.
Three steps. A month ago, it had been only one.
Orin stepped up next. He raised his hands. A clean silver coating spread from his fingertips to his wrists. His fist drove into the doll's chest — it caved inward with a deep dent. Orin paused, then set up his second strike.
"Zou," Dusk said, lowering his voice.
Orin understood. He pulled his hand back. A silver arrowhead took shape in his palm — still rough at the edges, but real. He threw it.
It buried itself into the doll's shoulder. It held for half a second before the dough slowly absorbed it.
Dusk said nothing, but he kept watching.
When it was Raphael's turn, Eren leaned against the wall and observed.
Raphael took a deep breath. He loaded Suru into his arms and stepped forward. His punch landed solidly.
The doll moved back two steps.
"Zou," Raphael murmured to himself. He opened his hand. A faint pressure built in his palm — wind element, invisible but felt. He closed his fist.
A small burst of air shot out. It was enough to knock a piece of fruit off a table, but the doll didn't even flinch.
Raphael stared at his hands.
"It'll be better tomorrow," Gus called from the doorway, holding a tray of cinnamon rolls. "Take one each now."
"Gus, training isn't over," Dusk said without turning.
"I know, but the rolls are getting cold."
A brief silence.
"It's not over."
Gus waited at the door with his usual warm smile, completely unbothered.
Now it was Eren's turn.
After one month, Suru had become consistent. Whenever he reached for it, the energy was there. Zou was still difficult — he could charge the battery reliably now, but not for long. He could feel the electricity, the lightning from his inner world bending toward his palm. But the Darkness element remained intangible. It was there, he knew it was, yet he still didn't know how to use it.
Dusk hadn't said anything, but Eren understood.
He stepped forward. He loaded Suru into his arms. The first punch moved the doll two steps back. The second, with Kaba active, pushed it three more steps. He stopped.
He opened his palm and reached for the electricity.
It was there. Warm. Waiting. An echo of the storm in his inner world. He didn't push — he noticed.
Something crackled faintly in his palm.
Small. Sharp. Invisible. Just the feeling of air tightening and releasing.
It grazed the doll's face.
The dough sank one centimeter inward… then slowly returned.
Eren looked at his hands.
"Slight," Dusk said flatly. "But it's there."
In the afternoon, Leila came.
She always came in the afternoon. She would open the door, scan the room, and stay without being invited.
This time she stopped beside Eren.
Eren was working alone with his doll, trying to hold Suru and Kaba together. On the second strike, Suru slipped — the punch landed with normal force and pain shot through his joints.
"You're pulling back," Leila said.
Eren turned. She stood with her arms crossed, watching him.
"No, I'm not."
"On the third step. Your heel lifts." She glanced at her own feet, then at his. "Your center of gravity shifts forward, so your body compensates by pulling back. You don't notice because it's small."
Eren said nothing. He tried again, this time focusing on his heels. The first punch was clean. The second — Suru slipped again.
"Suru is slipping."
"I know."
"Why?"
Eren stopped. He thought for a moment. "My concentration is splitting. I'm watching my feet and the energy scatters."
Leila tilted her head slightly.
"Hold both at once," she said. "Your feet and your energy. You don't have to choose — they're both yours."
"Easy to say."
"I know." She didn't turn. "I spent a month struggling with the same thing."
Toward evening, something changed.
It was small, but Raphael noticed it first.
Eren was attempting the third combination — Suru in his legs, Kaba in his hands, and Zou in his palm. The electrical flicker appeared again. But this time his heel didn't lift. His center of gravity stayed in place. The combination didn't fall apart.
The punch landed.
The doll went back four steps. It hit the wall.
He stopped.
The dough slowly began to return to shape, as it always did. But it had hit the wall. Four steps.
Raphael let out a low whistle. "How did you do that?"
Eren looked at his hands. "I don't know."
Leila was watching from the doorway. She said nothing. But she stayed.
Training ended.
Dusk kept it short as always. "Same time tomorrow." He turned and left.
The four of them remained in the training room. The dolls stood against the wall — all still upright, but one had a deep dent in its face, one had a silver mark on its shoulder, one had the pressure-mark of Eren's fist in its chest.
Small. But there.
Raphael stretched and cracked his neck. "One month," he said, looking at the nearest doll. "One month we've been beating these things."
"And?" Kayra asked.
"And today there's actual progress." He looked at one of the dolls. "Slow… but it's there."
Nobody argued.
Gus came in through the door, tray still in hand. "Training over now?"
"Over." Raphael got to his feet.
"Then take these," Gus said with his usual warm smile. "The cinnamon rolls got a little cold, but they're still good."
On the way out, Leila came up beside Eren in the corridor.
They walked side by side toward the stairs in silence.
Then Leila stopped.
Eren stopped too.
Without a word, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a short, firm hug. It was warm. Unexpected.
Eren went still.
Leila stepped back. She didn't look at his face.
"You've been fighting dough dolls for a month," she said, her voice flat as always. "Nobody told you, so I'm telling you now." She turned and started walking up the stairs. "You can do this. Just believe in yourself."
She disappeared up the stairs.
Eren stood there for a while, the warmth of her hug still lingering on his back.
Then he looked toward the top of the stairs where she had gone.
You can do this. Just believe in yourself.
He turned and headed to his room.
As they reached the common area, Dusk suddenly spoke from behind them, his voice calm but clear.
"Training will be suspended for the next few days."
The four of them stopped and turned.
Dusk continued without expression.
"The End of Autum Festival is coming. For the next three days, rest. The formal robes required for the celebration will be delivered to your rooms."
He paused for a moment, then added:
"Try not to cause any trouble."
With that, he turned and walked away, his crooked shadow following him.