AK : RISING MYTHIC

The morning sun hung low over the Mythic Base, casting golden streaks across the dew-covered grass of the wide training ground. A gentle breeze stirred the trees along the courtyard, and the air carried a sense of peace—so rare after the chaos of recent days.

All sixteen Mythic-ranked knights had gathered once again, some still showing signs of recovery, but their spirits were high. They had tasted victory, and now they thirsted for growth.

Arslan stood at the center, arms crossed, a calm but commanding aura around him. Today, there was no battlefield, no urgent threat. There was only learning.

Orien Dravell took a step forward, folding his arms. "Arslan, you've already shown us what we can become. Teach us how we can unlock more… How we can grow like you."

Vaelith Ren added, "We all have powers, yes, but your skills are evolving. They're changing with you. How?"

Arslan nodded slowly and stepped forward, his voice steady. "The first thing you need to understand is this—your power type is not a fixed shape. It's not a cage. It's a foundation."

He looked around, catching the eyes of each one of his teammates. "What do I mean by that? Let me give you an example… myself."

He raised one hand, and shadows curled up around his fingers like smoke, forming a spiked gauntlet of solidified dark energy. "When I first awakened, this—" he gestured to the black aura "—was just a protective shield. It came naturally, like instinct."

The aura faded, and Arslan continued. "But I kept experimenting. I tested it under stress. In silence. In combat. Alone. I reshaped it. It became blades. Then it became armor. Then chains. Then… something more. And that's because I studied myself. I didn't just use my power—I understood it."

Ismere Daeva raised an eyebrow. "So… our powers can change? Morph into something else?"

Arslan nodded. "Exactly. Not everyone will create new weapons or forms—but each of you can enhance what you have. You can sharpen it. Twist it. Deepen it. But it starts with this—"

He tapped his temple. "Your mind. If your mind is unstable—chaotic—you'll never control your full potential. Our powers are linked with our emotions, our purpose, our clarity. That's why today we begin here—not with combat, but with focus."

Seris Vahla, curious as always, asked, "Focus how? You mean meditation?"

Arslan turned to the training mats arranged under a nearby canopy. "Yes. We begin by learning to listen—to ourselves. Sit. Quiet your thoughts. Let me guide you."

One by one, the Mythics sat cross-legged on the mats, the wind rustling gently through their cloaks. Arslan paced slowly in front of them like a calm instructor.

"Close your eyes," he said. "Breathe deep. In through the nose… Hold… Now out."

He waited.

Again.

And again.

When the group began to settle, he continued, voice low, firm. "Now… think back to the first day you awakened. That moment when your powers revealed themselves. What were you feeling?"

There was silence. A few tightened their brows in concentration.

"Fear?" Arslan asked. "Confusion? Anger? Pain?"

Malrik Envor exhaled sharply. "I remember. Mine came when I thought I was about to die."

"Good," Arslan replied. "That's your trigger. Now… what's your calm? What makes you feel steady?"

They all stayed silent, thinking.

"Remember," Arslan said, "control doesn't mean hiding your emotion. It means balancing it. Finding the rhythm of it. Each of your powers is rooted in emotion, in identity."

He walked among them. "Ismere—yours is blood echo. That's not just about injury. That's about memory, about trauma. If you understand what echoes in you… your skill will evolve."

She blinked, stunned, and slowly nodded.

"Vaelith—yours is life restoration. It's healing—but healing isn't just physical. It's emotional. Empathic. Learn what restores you inside, and you'll unlock deeper potential."

Nirela, eyes still closed, whispered softly, "And what about me…? Moonlight…"

Arslan smiled gently. "Yours is tied to serenity and clarity. Your power will grow strongest when your heart is clear—when your emotions flow, not when they're suppressed."

She opened her eyes then, just slightly, a flicker of realization warming her face.

After nearly an hour of this focus training, Arslan led them back to their feet.

"Now," he said, "we test the difference."

He gestured to the dummies at the far side of the ground.

"Use your powers—but don't force them. Let them flow. Don't just think about defeating a target. Think about what your power is trying to become."

Zhalya Neris, the youngest among them, lifted her palm. Her blood sight ability shimmered slightly, but now it pulsed more vividly than before. "It's… sharper," she said in wonder. "Like it's reading more than movement. It's sensing intention."

Caelis Morvayn followed, his frostbind shards arcing out from his hand. But this time, they formed a spiral pattern rather than a scattered burst.

"I didn't even think," he said. "It just… moved the way I felt."

Tarric Vohl laughed with excitement. "Thunderstep just made me blink across the ground twice instead of once. What the hell?!"

The entire training ground echoed with energy and surprise.

One by one, the Mythics began experimenting, adapting—pushing their abilities forward not just with force, but with understanding.

Arslan watched proudly, arms behind his back. He didn't say much more.

He didn't need to.

They were growing—finally not as weapons, but as people with mastery.