“Name’s Om Sai,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “Age 21. Strongest ranked entity in this zone. People around here call me a hero, an idiot, or a walking hazard—depends on their mood.”

He pointed at me with his thumb.

“And you must be Arin. The anomaly. The problem. The interesting one.”

My chest felt weird. Not in fear. Just—pressure.

Om Sai grinned wider, like this was the most entertaining thing in his week.

“So…” He spread his arms like welcoming me to a show. “Welcome to your special training. Personally requested and approved.”

“By who?” I asked.

He winked.

“By me.”

With that, he cracked his neck slowly — crkkk — and casually threw a black band toward me.

“Put that on,” he said.

I looked at it. A training limiter bracelet.

He smirked. “Congrats. You’re officially in Om Sai Bootcamp — survival not guaranteed.”

A faint chill ran down my spine.

Before I could question it, he clapped his hands once. The ground trembled as various training modules activated around us — moving boulders, rotating pillars with blades, even platforms floating above spikes.

…What kind of training ground IS THIS?!

He casually pointed around. “Warm-up.”

“…Warm-up?” I repeated.

He nodded. “Yeah. Survive ten minutes in that. No Echoform. No Astra burst. Just your body.”

I blinked. “This looks like a death trap, not warm-up.”

“Exactly,” he replied cheerfully.

I sighed. “You’re insane.”

He flashed a grin that was way too excited. “That’s what my doctor said.”

Before I could react, a gigantic rotating hammer swung toward my head.

I barely dodged.

“What the—?!”

“Tick-tock!” Om Sai called out while stretching lazily like he was sunbathing. “If you die here, you’re not worth teaching!”

I leaped over spinning discs, ducked under moving pillars, rolled aside as a set of spikes shot from the floor. My body moved instinctively — faster, sharper. Training or no training, my survival instinct kicked in.

Ten minutes felt like an hour.

But I endured. Barely.

He finally clapped. All traps stopped mid-motion.

“Not bad,” he said.

I dropped to my knees, panting. “Not… bad? I almost DIED!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t,” he shrugged.

I glared. “Is this training? Or murder?”

“Murder is Plan B,” he replied.

He led me to a silent platform deep in the arena, surrounded by strange Astra resonance stones.

“Sit,” he ordered.

I looked at him. “We’re meditating now? That’s a whiplash from death parkour.”

His expression suddenly turned serious. “Astra isn’t just power. It’s emotion, memory, will. If your mind cracks, Astra consumes you.”

He tapped his neck scar. “Happened to someone once.”

I stared.

He continued, “You unlocked Echoform out of instinct. Good. But instinct without control is destruction.”

He crouched before me. “Your first real lesson: feel Astra. Not as power. But as presence.”

I closed my eyes.

I felt… something.

A quiet hum. A whisper across my skin. A pulse.

“Good,” Om Sai murmured.

Then he punched me in the stomach.

“BWAAH—WHAT THE FU—”

“Focus,” he said calmly as I struggled to breathe.

“HOW IS THIS MEDITATION?!”

“Pain helps concentration,” he smirked.

“YOU’RE INSANE.”

“Already confirmed.”

He punched me again — lighter this time.

“Breathe. Stay inside the calm.”

Somehow, I managed to hold on to that faint hum inside me… even as he kept “personally assisting my focus.”

When I thought it was over, he tossed a tablet at me.

On it: diagrams of Astra types, energy flows, hazard levels, and forms.

“Study,” he said, lying down like he was about to nap.

I raised a brow. “You teach theory?”

“No,” he replied. “I just hate dumb students.”

I sighed and started reading.

By the time I finished, my body was sore, my lungs burning, and my mind buzzing.

Om Sai sat up and cracked his fingers.

“Good warm-up,” he said. “Time for Lesson Four.”

I blinked. “Wasn’t that all?”

He grinned, stepping onto the sparring platform.

“Nope. Now… hit me.”

My pulse spiked.

This is where I die, I thought.

And then I stepped forward.

I stepped forward.

No hesitation. No holding back.

My fist shot forward with everything I had — full power, straight to his face.

WHAM.

Om Sai caught it with one hand.

For a moment, I smirked.

Then—
BOOM.

All the force I unleashed suddenly slammed back into me like a truck. My feet left the ground, body flung backward as if I’d punched myself.

I tumbled, rolled, and skidded across the arena floor.

My jaw clenched. What the hell—?!

I sprinted back and went for a high kick to his head. Faster this time. Sharper.

Before my kick even landed—

CRACK!

He punched me directly in the mouth mid-motion.

I flew back again. Hard.

Blood dripped from my lip.

I wiped it with my thumb.

“This keeps happening,” I muttered.

Om Sai tilted his head, scratching his ear lazily. “Your battle IQ is like a broken calculator—looks useful, but gives random nonsense.”

I twitched. “You shut up, bastard. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

He raised a brow, amused. “Oh? Angry mode activated?”

I rushed in again — but didn’t attack him directly this time.

Instead, I jumped and slammed my fist straight into the ground with everything I had.

BOOOOOM!!!

The arena floor cracked open. Dust exploded outward. A massive chunk of rock burst into the air like a flying boulder.

Without missing a beat, I spun and kicked it hard — sending it hurtling at Om Sai like a meteor.

He didn’t move.

BOOM.

Same as before — right before impact, the massive stone suddenly jolted backward like it hit an invisible wall — flying away from him and crashing to the opposite side.

Om Sai crossed his arms. “You look frustrated. Like a monkey stuck in a puzzle box.”

My teeth ground together. My fists were shaking now — but not from fear.

I sprinted again — but this time, I didn’t throw a heavy punch.

Just a quick jab. Barely serious. Almost lazy.

Tap.

It landed.

Right on his chest.

His eyes widened a fraction.

He stepped back.

Just one step. But it was enough.

Silence.

A grin slowly grew on my face. “Got you…”

Om Sai paused for a long second, hand resting casually on the spot I hit.

Then he let out a slow whistle.

“…Interesting.”

Om Sai dusted off his chest where my punch landed, his grin widening like he’d found a shiny new toy.

“Well, well,” he said, stretching his shoulders, “looks like your brain finally made a phone call to your fists.”

I stayed silent, breathing heavily—but alert.

He rolled his neck. “Let me hit you with some wisdom, kid. Not literally this time… probably.”

I stayed in stance.

He raised a finger. “Lesson one: power without control is like farting in an elevator. It affects everyone—including you.”

I blinked. “What… kind of comparison is that?”

“An educational one,” he said seriously, then smirked. “Heavy punches? You threw them with zero flow. All muscle, no intent. So the force snapped back when rejected.”

“Rejected?” I repeated.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Power has direction. If your opponent’s strength, will, or technique is higher, your energy returns to you like a failed bank loan.”

He kicked the broken stone beside him lightly—it crumbled. “That little jab before? It wasn’t just weak… it was clean. Controlled. Focused. Your intent and motion aligned for a second. So it stuck.”

I stared at my fist.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Lesson two: Astra and Echo aren’t about being stronger. They’re about understanding rhythm, pressure, and emotional flow. If your punch doesn’t have your will… it’s just exercise.”

My gaze turned sharp.

“So I’m supposed to… control everything?”

He laughed. “Nope. You’re supposed to stop thinking like a hammer and start acting like a blade. Strike where it matters.”

I stepped forward again. “Then let’s continue.”

He raised a brow. “Oh? Fired up already?”

I clenched my fists. “I’ll land another punch.”

He held up two fingers. “Land three, and I’ll teach you a secret about Astra flow.”

My heartbeat spiked. “Deal.”

He grinned, stepping fully into stance for the first time.

The air shifted.

It wasn’t casual Om Sai anymore.

Something cold and sharp filled the space around him—as if the atmosphere tightened.

He’s serious now.

But I didn’t back down.

Perin, watching from the edge of the arena, tilted its head—eyes reflecting anticipation.

I exhaled once.

Then I charged.

I lunged.

This time, I didn’t just swing wildly—I aimed. I thought about every movement. I listened to Om Sai’s words.

Control. Intent. Flow.

Om Sai didn’t move much.

He just watched.

I feinted left, struck right—but he tilted his head slightly and dodged.

I pivoted and sent a clean jab toward his ribs—he blocked it lazily.

I spun and kicked toward his leg—he stepped aside like avoiding a puddle.

But I didn’t stop.

Breathing steady, I readjusted my stance.

My heartbeat synced with my steps.

Left. Right. Jab. Duck. Step in—punch.

Tap.

It landed.

Then another.

Tap.

And one more.

Tap.

Three clean punches, one after another, right to his chest and shoulder.

I stepped back, breathing heavily.

He didn’t even blink.

No damage. No flinch. Nothing.

It was like punching a relaxed mountain.

My fists trembled—not from fear, but frustration.

He looked down at the spots I’d hit… and gave a small nod.

“Huh,” he said casually. “Not bad.”

“That’s it?” I snapped. “I hit you three times!”

“Yeah,” he replied. “But it was like being kissed by a sleepy butterfly.”

My eye twitched. “You—”

He held up a hand. “Relax. You passed the test.”

I blinked. “Passed?”

He stepped closer, his eyes suddenly sharp—not mocking for once.

“You landed focused hits under pressure,” he said. “Even if they didn’t hurt me… they landed. That’s step one.”

I silently processed that.

Om Sai cracked his neck. “But don’t get cocky. If I wasn’t going easy on you, you wouldn’t last three seconds.”

I didn’t argue.

He shrugged and turned away. “Training’s done for today.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

He looked back with a grin. “Be grateful. You survived your first day with me. Most don’t.”

With that, he stretched lazily and walked off like he’d just finished a casual jog.

I stood there breathing heavily, fists sore… but my mind burning.

Perin hopped onto my shoulder, curious.

Was I frustrated that my punches did nothing?

…Yes.

But for the first time…

I’d hit someone this strong, and they had acknowledged it.

Even slightly.

Somewhere deep inside, something flickered—

Not fear.

Not pride.

But hunger.

This was just the beginning.