Morning sunlight spilled through the trees, casting long shadows across the training grounds where Kian stood, his hands sparking with green lightning that crackled in rhythmic pulses. Sweat dripped from his brow, his breathing even and measured as he focused on refining his control. Each arc of energy snapped crisply, responding to his will as he practiced the delicate balance between power and restraint.
"Focus, Kian. Feel the current flow, don't force it," Chandler's voice echoed from the porch, where he sat sipping a cup of tea, his gaze sharp and observant. "You keep trying to yank the energy out. It's not a rope, boy it's a river. Let it flow."
Kian exhaled, nodding, and tried again. He raised his hand, the sparks now smaller, more concentrated. His lightning flickered with a gentler hum, spiraling around his fingers in thin, wispy threads. For a moment, it looked almost elegant like strands of emerald silk.
Chandler grunted approvingly. "Better. Keep at it."
Kian pushed harder, focusing on the sensation of energy pooling in his veins. It felt different now since he started resonating with the world, there was a newfound depth to his powers. He could almost taste the energy in the air, feel it prickling against his skin like static. It was intoxicating... but dangerous. He had to respect it, learn to bend it without breaking.
Meanwhile, just beyond the clearing, Nia was moving silently between the trees, her hands clenched as she practiced forms Chandler had drilled into her before dawn. Her strikes were swift and precise, her body nimble as she ducked and spun with surprising grace.
Her sessions started hours before Kian even woke up, with Chandler pushing her harder than she had ever been pushed before. They trained in silence, her movements sharper each day, her resolve hardening with every bruise and scrape. The secrecy added an edge to it all a hidden fire that kept her moving even when exhaustion threatened to take her.
Kian, oblivious to Nia's hidden training, continued with his own exercises, channeling his lightning with precision. He practiced Ohm's Law, focusing on the split-second bursts of speed and strength it granted him. Each activation left his muscles screaming, the strain immense, but the results undeniable. He could move faster, hit harder. The only problem was the price every time he used it, he felt like his limbs were filled with lead, weighed down by the backlash.
Chandler would watch with a thoughtful expression, occasionally giving curt advice or adjusting his stance. "Don't rush the process. You're still brute-forcing it. Resonance isn't just about power it's about understanding."
"Understanding what?" Kian asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Understanding yourself," Chandler replied cryptically, his eyes glimmering with some old, hidden wisdom. "Lightning is raw, chaotic. But it's also natural predictable in its own way. If you can learn its rhythm, you won't have to fight it. You'll dance with it."
Kian looked down at his sparking hands, his expression hardening. Dance with it, huh? He had always just unleashed it, let it rampage. But control...that was different. It felt like grasping at smoke.
He nodded, determination flooding back into his gaze. "I'll try."
Chandler only smiled faintly. "Good. Now again."
The morning passed in silence, punctuated only by the crackle of lightning and the whisper of wind through the trees.