Three months.
Aldo said the door in the Mariana Trench only opened during the equinox. When day and night were equal. When the world was in balance. That was three months away.
Three months to learn. Three months to prepare. Three months to become someone who could survive a place where even Bayu—with his eyes and the scar on his chest—had barely made it out alive.
I stood at the edge of the academy pool. The water looked blue-green and calm. Not like the sea I would face later. Bayu stood beside me. His arms were crossed over his chest.
"Day," he said. "You'll learn to hold your breath."
"I can hold my breath," I said.
"How long?" he asked.
I thought about it. "Maybe one minute."
Bayu snorted. It wasn't a mocking laugh. It was a sound that came from someone who knew something I didn't.
"In the Mariana Trench you won't have one minute. You'll have thirty seconds to make a decision that could save your life or kill you." He pointed to the pool. "Now. Jump."
I jumped.
The water was cold. Colder than I expected. I opened my eyes underwater. I looked at the tiles at the bottom. My body shadow swayed.
I held my breath.
One. Two. Three.
Bayu wasn't counting. He just stood at the edge. He watched me.
At forty seconds my lungs started to burn. I wanted to go up. Bayu hadn't said I could.
At fifty seconds my vision started to blur. I saw Bayu wave his hand. A signal to come up.
I pushed myself to the surface. I gasped for air like someone who had almost drowned.
"Forty-seven seconds," Bayu said. "Not enough."
I was panting. "What does holding my breath have to do with the Ember Core?"
Bayu looked at me. "The Ember Core won't help you there if you panic… You will panic. Because at the bottom of the sea there's no air. No light. Only water, pressure and something waiting for you."
He crouched at the edge of the pool. His yellow eyes looked straight at me.
"Your grandfather could hold his breath for three minutes. Not because his lungs were strong… because he no longer breathed like an ordinary human. The Ember Core changed him… It will change you too—if you let it."
I looked at my hand. The Ouroboros scar was still there. Still the same.
"I don't know how," I said.
"You'll learn," Bayu said. ". Not today. Today you only learn to hold your breath. Tomorrow you'll learn again… again. Until one minute feels like an instant."
After the pool I went to Aldo's classroom.
The room was small. A wooden table was in the centre. Star charts hung on the walls. On the table there was a pile of books with peeling leather covers.
Aldo was already waiting. In his hand he held a glass sphere. Inside tiny stars spun slowly.
"Sit," he said.
I sat.
"What do you see when you look at the night sky?" he asked.
"Stars", I said.
"What stars?" he asked.
I frowned. "Orion. The Big Dipper. Scorpio. Ordinary stars."
Aldo shook his head. "That's not what your grandfather saw. That's not what you need to see."
He placed the glass sphere on the table. Inside, the tiny stars spun faster. Then they stopped. They formed a pattern I didn't recognise.
"This is what your grandfather saw," Aldo said. "This is what only someone with the blood can see."
I stared at the pattern. It was faint. Like a shadow that never fully formed.
"What is it?" I asked.
"A map, Kael. A map to the door. A door that only opens when these stars are in the position."
He pointed to one point inside the glass sphere. The star there blinked brighter than the others.
"That's the centre. That's what you need to find. Not in the sky—inside yourself. Because this map cannot be read with your eyes. Only with something in your chest."
I stared at that point. The scar on my hand pulsed faintly.
Nothing changed. The glass sphere remained the same. The stars stayed where they were.
"I can't see it," I said.
Aldo smiled. It was a smile.
"Not yet… You will."
That night I was too tired to sleep.
I sat on my bed. I stared at the ceiling. Lina was already asleep beside me. Her warm hand lay open beside her face.
For the past few days I had noticed something.
Her hand wasn't always warm.
Sometimes when she slept, her hand became cold. Cold like ice. I touched it once two days ago. Almost pulled my hand back in shock.
When she woke, her hand was warm again. Like nothing had happened.
I didn't ask. I was afraid to ask.
"You're afraid," the Ember Core's voice said.
I ignored it.
"Afraid of what you might find if you ask."
"Be quiet," I said.
"I can't be quiet. I'm part of you," it said.
I clenched my fist. The scar on my hand pulsed.
"Lina won't be angry if you ask. She already knows. She's just waiting for you to be brave enough to ask."
I looked at Lina. She was still asleep. Her face was calm. Her warm hand—now warm again—lay open beside her face.
I opened my mouth. Then closed it again.
No. Not yet.
On the day of training, Bayu taught me something new.
"The Ember Core isn't for attacking," he said. We stood at the edge of the pool. The water was still blue-green. Still calm.
"Your grandfather used it to protect himself. At the bottom of the sea, water pressure can crush bones… Your grandfather survived, not because his body was strong… because the Ember Core protected him."
"How?" I asked.
Bayu pointed to his chest. The scar beneath his shirt.
"I don't know how. I don't have the Ember Core… You do." He looked at me. "Close your eyes."
I closed my eyes.
"Feel something in your chest. Something that wasn't there before the Ember Core entered."
I tried. I felt something in my chest. It wasn't clear. Like a voice in a crowd. Impossible to separate from the rest.
"I can't," I said.
"Try again," Bayu said.
I tried again. The scar on my hand pulsed. Harder… Still not clear.
"I can't," I said again.
Bayu didn't answer. I opened my eyes. He was gone.
I found Maya in the afternoon.
She sat under the tree—the same tree where we had sat weeks ago. A book lay open in her lap. Her eyes weren't reading. She stared at the sky.
"You can sit," she said without turning.
I sat beside her.
"Bayu told me to feel the Ember Core," I said. "I can't."
Maya closed her book. Looked at me.
"You're trying hard," she said. "Null taught me something. To neutralise someone's power, I have to stop trying. I have to let myself be empty."
"Empty?" I asked.
"Like water. Water doesn't try to flow. It just flows." She looked at my hand. At the Ouroboros scar. "Maybe the Ember Core is the same. Maybe you don't need to try to feel it. Maybe you just need to let it be."
I looked at my hand. The scar was still spiralling. Still the same.
"I don't know how," I said.
Maya smiled. It was a smile. This time it reached her eyes a little.
"You don't need to know how today. Tomorrow you can try again… the day after. Until one day you realise you've been doing it without thinking."
The day I returned to the pool.
Bayu was already waiting. Without speaking he pointed to the water.
I jumped.
This time I didn't force my breath. I tried to do what Maya said. I let myself be empty. Let the water surround me. Let my lungs burn without panicking.
At sixty seconds something changed.
I didn't know how to explain it. Suddenly the burning in my lungs lessened. Like something was protecting me from inside. Like something was saying, "You're not done yet. Hold on."
I reached the surface at eighty seconds.
Bayu stood at the edge of the pool. His yellow eyes glowed brighter than usual.
"Eighty seconds," he said. His voice didn't change. I saw something in his eyes.
Not admiration. Not pride.
Something else. Something, like recognition.
"Tomorrow you will train again," he said.
He turned around. Before he left he stopped.
"Your grandfather also took three months to survive at the bottom of the sea. It took him three months, Kael. You have the amount of time."
He left me there.
I stood in the pool with water dripping from my hair. The scar on my hand was still hurting.
For a time I felt something. It wasn't a whisper. It wasn't a voice. It was a presence. Something inside me had been watching until now. It was starting to react.
"Finally", the Ember Core said in a whisper. This time its voice was not cold. It was warm. Like something that had been waiting for a long time. The Ember Core was waiting.