Chapter 106: Cracks in the Core
The training arena, bathed in the glow of reinforced barrier spells, pulsed with tension as Caelum faced off against a shadow-clone of himself—created by Volundr to mimic his speed, tactics, and light-based combat. It was meant to push him past his current plateau.
At first, he held his ground. His constructs shimmered steadily, blades of aether and radiant light flowing with calculated grace. He parried, struck, and dodged with increasing confidence.
But then the clone's eyes turned red.
It wasn't part of the program.
The illusion twisted—its face morphing into that of a cold, armored Church inquisitor. A memory, not real—but it felt real. The air snapped with pressure, and Caelum froze.
Flash.
The white halls.
The iron restraints.
Needles pulsing with holy light.
Screams—his own, others—echoing.
"Contain the failure. Reset the purification sequence."
His breath caught in his throat.
His Sacred Gear, sensing distress, flared violently. The light in his constructs surged uncontrollably—shimmering from gold to near-white. The blades fractured with a sharp crack, and his gauntlets exploded into shards of force.
Caelum collapsed, clutching his chest as light pulsed erratically from his core. His hair floated slightly from the raw energy leaking out, uncontrolled and burning.
Volundr appeared in a blink, kneeling beside him.
"Caelum! Look at me."
"It's happening again," Caelum gasped, voice trembling. "I—I can't stop it!"
Volundr gripped his shoulders firmly but gently.
"You're not a lab experiment anymore. You're not a prisoner. You're here, with me. Breathe."
He placed a hand over Caelum's heart, his mana flowing through in calm, steady pulses.
"In… and out. Follow my rhythm."
Slowly, Caelum's breathing stabilized. The wild light dimmed. His body relaxed, but his eyes were still wide with shaken memory.
"I thought I was past this," he whispered.
"Healing doesn't mean forgetting," Volundr said quietly.
"But if you keep running from the cracks in your core, they'll control you."
Later that night, Caelum sat beside a still pond beneath the crystal dome of the training estate's inner garden. Volundr joined him, placing a smooth obsidian bowl filled with water in front of him.
"This will be your new morning ritual," Volundr said, sitting cross-legged. "No constructs. No combat. Just stillness."
"Meditation?"
"Focus training. To master your Sacred Gear, you must master yourself first. Your thoughts, your fears, your light—they're all one."
Caelum closed his eyes and inhaled. The pond's surface mirrored the starlit ceiling, calm and vast.
For the first time in weeks, he felt the light within him respond not with fire… but with warmth.