Three days.
Seventy-two hours until I stood before Vorath.
Seventy-two hours to prepare for a meeting that would decide the fate of everyone who had followed me.
Seventy-two hours to become something I wasn't sure I could be.
I left the cave at dawn.
Ami followed me to the edge of the tree line.
"You're really doing this."
"Yes."
"Alone."
"Yes."
She stared at me.
Those sharp eyes holding mine.
"Come back," she said quietly.
It wasn't a question.
Wasn't an order.
Wasn't even a request.
Just a statement.
A hope.
Come back.
I didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Because I didn't know if I would.
I walked through the mountains as the sun rose.
Found a clearing deep in the wilderness. Remote. Hidden. Quiet.
Perfect for what I needed to do.
I sat in the center.
Closed my eyes.
Reached inside.
The soul was there.
My soul. Azrathor's soul.
Three thousand years of power compressed into something that shouldn't exist.
I had felt it before. In the hospital. In Sector 7. In Oakhaven.
But I had never truly reached for it.
Never tried to pull it into this body.
Never attempted to grow.
I reached deeper.
Past the surface. Past the muscle and bone and human weakness.
To the core.
The place where soul met flesh.
The place where I could become more.
The first attempt nearly killed me.
I reached for the power—too fast, too eager—and it surged. A flood of ancient energy slamming into a vessel that wasn't ready.
My body convulsed. Blood poured from my nose. My vision went white with agony.
I pulled back.
Gasping.
Shaking.
Alive.
I sat in the clearing, breathing hard, waiting for my heart to stop trying to escape my chest.
That was stupid.
Careless.
Weak.
A king did not make mistakes like that.
A king was patient.
A king waited.
A king planned.
I tried again.
Slower this time. Gentler. Smarter.
I reached for the soul not with hunger, but with intention. Not demanding, but asking.
The soul responded.
Not with a flood—with a trickle.
A steady, controlled release of power into the waiting vessel.
I felt it immediately.
Warmth spreading through my limbs. Strength flowing into muscles that had been weak. Energy igniting nerves that had been dull.
Aurelion Kade's body had been a soldier's body.
It was becoming something more.
The process took hours.
I sat in the clearing from dawn to midday, pulling power in careful increments. 0.1% became 0.2%. 0.2% became 0.3%.
Slow.
Steady.
Safe.
By noon, I had reached 0.5%.
Double what I had been.
I stood. Stretched. Tested the new strength.
My movements were smoother. Faster. More precise.
I picked up my blade. Ran through a few forms.
The blade sang through the air.
I almost smiled.
I trained through the afternoon.
Pushing the new power through every technique I knew. Testing limits. Finding boundaries.
My body responded better than before. Hits that would have tired me now felt easy. Movements that would have been clumsy now flowed.
0.5% was better than 0.3%.
Much better.
But not enough.
Not nearly enough.
By dusk, I had reached 0.7%.
I stood in the clearing, breathing hard, sweat dripping from every pore.
My muscles screamed. My bones ached. Every part of me wanted to stop.
I didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
Vorath was waiting.
That night, I didn't sleep.
Couldn't afford to.
I sat in the darkness, reaching inside, pulling power from the soul in controlled bursts.
0.7% became 0.8%.
0.8% became 0.9%.
Slow.
Steady.
Growing.
The second day dawned cold and clear.
I resumed training at first light.
Pushing harder now. Testing the new limits. Finding where my body broke.
It broke in new places.
Healed faster too.
The power was integrating. Becoming part of me. Becoming mine.
By midday, I had reached 1.1%.
The power was noticeable now. In my movements. In my senses. In the way the world seemed sharper, clearer, more real.
I could see farther. Hear better. React faster.
This was what humans were becoming.
This was what awakening meant.
And I—I was becoming something beyond even that.
I trained through the afternoon without stopping.
Forms. Sparring with imaginary enemies. Pushing the new power through every technique I knew.
Some worked better than before.
Some didn't work at all.
My body still had limits.
But they were expanding.
By dusk, I had reached 1.3%.
So close.
So close to where I needed to be.
The second night, I dreamed.
Not of Vorath.
Not of the King.
Of Lina.
She stood before me in the darkness, those too-old eyes fixed on my face.
"You're stronger," she said.
"Yes."
"Not strong enough."
"I know."
She stepped closer. "He's going to test you. Vorath. Not just your power—your self. He wants to know what you are."
"What am I?"
She smiled.
It was not a child's smile.
"That's what he wants to find out."
I woke with a start.
The dream lingered.
Her words echoed.
He wants to know what you are.
I didn't know.
Had never known.
But maybe—maybe Vorath would help me find out.
The third day.
Last day.
I pushed harder than ever.
From dawn to dusk, non-stop. Drawing power. Testing limits. Breaking barriers.
My body healed faster now. The training wounds closing almost as quickly as they opened.
1.3% became 1.35%.
1.35% became 1.4%.
1.4% became 1.45%.
I stopped at dusk.
Stood in the center of the clearing.
Felt the power humming through my veins.
1.5%.
Three times what I had been three days ago.
Still nothing compared to what I once was.
Still nothing compared to Vorath.
But enough.
It had to be enough.
I walked back through the mountains as night fell.
Seventeen survivors waited in the cave.
Ami at their head.
"You're back," she said.
"I said I would be."
"You didn't say anything." She stepped closer. "You just left."
I met her eyes.
"I'm here now."
She studied me.
Those sharp eyes missing nothing.
"You're different," she said quietly. "Stronger."
"Yes."
"What did you do?"
I considered the question.
Three thousand years of secrets. Three thousand years of lies.
But she had stayed.
Through everything.
She had stayed.
"I prepared," I said.
That night, I told them.
Not everything. Not the worst truth.
But enough.
About Vorath. About the test. About the meeting at dawn.
Seventeen faces watched me in the firelight.
Seventeen people who had followed me, trusted me, believed in me.
"If I don't come back," I said, "you need to keep moving. North. Deeper into the mountains. Don't stop until you can't go any further."
Ami stood.
"I'm going with you."
"No."
"I don't care what you say. I'm—"
"Ami." I met her eyes. "If you come, you die. Not because you're weak. Because he'll kill you to make a point. And I can't—" I stopped.
Couldn't finish.
Didn't know how.
She stared at me.
Those sharp eyes glistening.
"Then don't die," she whispered.
I left at midnight.
Couldn't sleep.
Didn't want to.
Walked through the darkness toward the ruins of the base.
Toward Vorath.
Toward whatever waited.
1.5% power.
Three days of preparation.
And the weight of everyone who believed in me.