The nights were quiet after that.
Too quiet.
I sat on my bed, staring at my hands again. The glow hadn't come back—not like before. Not on its own. Not when I wasn't forcing it.
I flexed my fingers slowly.
Nothing.
A part of me felt relieved.
Another part didn't trust it.
Because this silence didn't feel like peace.
It felt like something waiting.
The next few days passed without them coming back.
No shadows.
No whispers.
No sudden pressure in the air.
Just… nothing.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
"You're distracted."
His voice cut through my thoughts.
I didn't look at him immediately. I was standing in the same open space he had been dragging me to every day—far from everything, far from normal.
"I'm not," I said.
"You are."
I exhaled slowly. "They're gone."
"For now."
That answer didn't help.
I turned to face him. "Then why are we still doing this like they'll come any second?"
"Because they will."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
That should have reassured me.
It didn't.
Training didn't slow down.
If anything, it became sharper.
More precise.
More controlled.
This time, he didn't push me to force the power out.
He made me wait.
"Don't call it," he said. "Let it come."
"It doesn't," I replied.
"Then you're still doing it wrong."
I clenched my jaw slightly, forcing myself to stay still instead of reacting. My focus shifted inward again, searching for that steady presence I had felt before.
It was faint.
But it was there.
I didn't reach for it.
I waited.
Seconds passed.
Nothing.
Then—
a flicker.
Small.
Barely there.
But real.
My breath caught slightly as the light formed at the edge of my fingers—not bursting, not unstable—just… existing.
I didn't move.
Didn't push.
Didn't lose it.
For the first time—
it stayed.
I looked up at him.
His expression didn't change.
But I noticed it.
That slight pause.
That almost invisible shift.
"Again," he said.
Of course.
By evening, I was exhausted.
Not from fighting.
From holding back.
From not forcing it.
From trying to understand something that didn't come naturally.
We walked back in silence.
That had become normal too.
But this time—
something felt different.
I couldn't explain it.
I just knew.
That night, I sat on my bed again.
Same position.
Same silence.
Same hands.
I stared at them for a long moment before slowly lowering them.
"Maybe it's over," I muttered.
The words didn't sound convincing.
Not even to me.
I lay down, closing my eyes, letting the exhaustion pull me under faster than usual.
For a while—
there was nothing.
Just sleep.
Then—
something shifted.
Not outside.
Not in the room.
Inside.
A sudden, sharp pull.
Like something had reached into that quiet space within me and twisted it.
My eyes snapped open.
Darkness.
But not normal darkness.
This one felt—
alive.
My breath hitched as I sat up quickly, my heart racing without a clear reason.
Then I heard it.
A whisper.
Closer than ever before.
Not from the room.
From right behind me.
"Now… you're ready."
I froze.
Slowly—
I turned.
And for the first time—
it wasn't a shadow.