The training grounds were far from empty this time.
Unlike the earlier sessions where structured guidance dictated every movement, this phase was different—raw, unsupervised, and far more revealing. Students were scattered across the open arena, some attempting to replicate techniques they barely understood, others pushing themselves beyond their limits in an effort to catch up. The air itself felt unstable, not because of overwhelming power, but because of inconsistency. Too many incomplete controls, too many forced executions.
Shivay stood at the center of it all.
Still.
Calm.
But not idle.
His eyes moved—not randomly, but deliberately—tracking movement, energy flow, mistakes. A student to his left tried to forcefully redirect energy and failed, the current collapsing before it could stabilize. Another relied purely on reaction, blocking instead of guiding, exhausting himself within seconds.
"…I was doing the same," Shivay realized.
That thought didn't carry regret.
Only clarity.
Because understanding a mistake—
Was the first step to eliminating it.
He stepped forward.
Not toward anyone.
But into the flow itself.
The moment he focused, the energy around him responded—but this time, it wasn't smooth. The surface layer resisted slightly, not because it was stronger, but because it was unstable. Too many external disturbances. Too many conflicting flows.
"…Environment isn't controlled."
That was the difference.
Inside the hall, everything was structured.
Here—
It wasn't.
Shivay adjusted.
Instead of forcing alignment immediately, he began with stabilization, spreading his awareness across the surface layer, attempting to reduce the interference before moving deeper.
For a moment—
It worked.
The flow steadied.
The instability reduced.
Then—
It broke.
A sudden disruption from nearby—another student losing control—sent a ripple through the surrounding energy. The structure Shivay had begun to build collapsed instantly, the mid-layer losing alignment before he could even reach the source.
"…Too dependent."
He stepped back slightly.
Not physically shaken.
But mentally recalibrating.
That was the flaw.
His control required stability.
And stability—
Didn't exist in real situations.
Before he could attempt again—
A presence approached.
"You're slowing down."
Kabir.
Shivay didn't turn.
"…I'm adjusting."
Kabir stepped beside him, his gaze already focused on the same chaotic environment.
"…Or overthinking."
Shivay glanced at him briefly.
"…Same thing."
Kabir smirked faintly.
"…Not in a fight."
That—
Was a challenge.
Shivay understood it instantly.
"Go on," he said calmly.
Kabir didn't wait.
The moment he stepped forward, the energy around him shifted—not layered like before, not overly complex, but controlled in a different way. It wasn't about hiding the source this time.
It was about—
Breaking pattern.
His movements were unpredictable.
Not random.
But intentionally inconsistent.
"…He adapted," Shivay noted.
Kabir wasn't relying on fixed flow anymore.
He was changing rhythm mid-execution.
Then—
He attacked.
Not one strike.
Multiple.
Thin currents, fast and irregular, each one carrying a slightly different structure, making it harder to trace back to a single origin.
Shivay didn't react immediately.
Instead—
He focused.
Not on the attacks.
But on the system behind them.
"…No stable source."
That was intentional.
Which meant—
Direct disruption wouldn't work.
The first strike reached him.
He deflected it—not by force, but by shifting its path slightly.
The second—
He redirected.
The third—
He failed.
It grazed past his control, the instability breaking his alignment for a fraction of a second.
Not damage.
But enough.
Kabir noticed.
"…There it is," he said.
Shivay didn't respond.
Because it was true.
His method—
Wasn't enough.
Kabir moved again.
Faster this time.
More aggressive.
Shivay's focus sharpened instantly.
"…Don't chase."
That thought grounded him.
Instead of reacting to each attack individually, he expanded his awareness outward, stabilizing the surrounding flow rather than the attacks themselves.
Surface first.
Reduce interference.
Then mid-layer—
Align.
The next attack came.
This time—
He didn't block it.
He shifted the environment around it.
The current lost direction before it even reached him.
Kabir's eyes narrowed.
"…Different."
Shivay didn't stop.
He pushed further.
Not forcing control.
But building it.
Layer by layer.
The instability around him reduced.
Not completely.
But enough.
Kabir attacked again—
And this time—
It didn't reach.
The flow broke before impact.
Silence.
For a moment—
Neither of them moved.
Then—
Kabir exhaled.
"…So that's your answer."
Shivay met his gaze.
"…Temporary."
Kabir smirked.
"…Good."
He stepped back.
No winner.
No loser.
But—
Clear progress.
A slow clap echoed from the side.
Both of them turned.
Meher.
She stood there, watching.
Unimpressed.
But not indifferent.
"You stabilized the environment," she said, her tone flat.
Shivay didn't respond.
Kabir crossed his arms.
"…That a problem?"
Meher's gaze shifted briefly.
"…It's inefficient."
Silence.
Then—
She stepped forward.
The pressure changed instantly.
Not chaotic like before.
Controlled.
Absolute.
"Try again," she said.
This time—
There was no room for adjustment.
Shivay felt it immediately.
The environment—
Locked.
No instability.
No randomness.
Perfect structure.
"…Opposite condition."
She wasn't testing his strength.
She was testing his adaptability.
Kabir stepped back.
"…Your turn," he muttered.
Shivay stepped forward.
Focused.
This time—
He didn't stabilize.
He didn't align.
He didn't build.
He adapted.
The moment Meher's pressure moved—
He followed.
Not controlling.
Not resisting.
Matching.
For a brief second—
The flow synchronized.
Then—
It broke.
Completely.
The pressure overwhelmed his alignment instantly, forcing his control to collapse before it could stabilize.
Silence.
Meher stopped.
"…That's reality," she said.
No emotion.
No explanation.
Just truth.
Shivay stood still.
Not frustrated.
Not surprised.
But aware.
"…Two extremes."
Chaotic environment—
He could manage.
Perfect control—
He couldn't.
Which meant—
He was incomplete.
Meher turned away.
"Fix it."
And walked off.
Kabir exhaled slowly.
"…You're still behind her."
Shivay's gaze remained steady.
"…For now."
Kabir smirked.
Then left.
Shivay remained alone.
But this time—
His thoughts weren't scattered.
They were sharp.
Focused.
"Control breaks in chaos."
"Control fails in perfection."
A pause.
"…Then I need something beyond both."
His gaze steadied.
Calm.
Certain.
"…Something that doesn't depend on conditions."