Kruger

The deeper Kaiell swam, the quieter everything became.

Suspended in the endless black-blue column of his inner world, he felt the press of silence like a second skin. Time didn't pass here—only pressure. Only depth.

He didn't know how long he'd been falling. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. He was trying to reach something. Or perhaps run from it.

But then—

A hand grabbed him.

Rough. Human. Solid.

And it yanked him out of the ocean like he was just another cadet caught sleepwalking.

Suddenly, Kaiell's senses jolted. Pressure shattered. Water became air.

His eyes snapped open.

Reality rushed back like a flood.

He was lying in the center of the training dome, drenched from the ankles up. The floor was shallowly flooded, the overhead lights flickering, casting shifting reflections across his soaked uniform.

And standing over him—

"Are you done drowning in your thoughts?" the man said, voice dry, unimpressed. "Or do I need to get a mop?"

Kaiell blinked. "...Lunge?"

The man nodded once.

He was tall, lean, and looked like he'd walked straight out of a war zone. Slick dark-blue instructor coat soaked to the knees, short hair plastered to his forehead, and a faint scar running down his jawline. His eyes were the same color as the ocean Kaiell had just been in.

"Lesson one," Lunge said, crossing his arms. "If you want to explore your inner world, that's fine. But you don't get to use it as an excuse to ignore the outer one."

Kaiell sat up slowly. "You pulled me out."

"You were overdue," Lunge said. He gestured to Kaiell's hands. "You're glowing like you just broke through your limits. Feel different?"

Kaiell looked down. His fingertips shimmered slightly. Water clung to them like magnetized glass, refusing to fall. His body felt lighter—but denser. Stronger.

"You unlocked transmutation," Lunge said, crouching down in front of him. "Do you even know what that means?"

Kaiell shook his head, still catching his breath.

"It means your cells have reached a threshold where they can reshape matter. Not just raw energy or speed. Elements." He tapped his chest. "I specialized in water. High-pressure manipulation, rapid healing, breath conversion. Haven't needed a respirator in ten years."

Kaiell stared at him, thoughts still trailing in the water behind his mind.

"It's not a gift," Lunge said. "It's science. Viora's just the fuel. The body's the engine. If you understand the structure of an element—the bonds, the atoms, the weight—you can build it from nothing."

"Any element?" Kaiell asked.

"If you know its code. Its atomic map. If your body can withstand the strain of making it real."

Lunge stood up again, cracking his neck like the conversation bored him.

"You've got potential, kid. Real potential. But potential's worthless if you die before you can use it."

He turned toward the dome's exit, water rippling in his wake.

"I've been told where they're sending you. Sector Twelve."

Kaiell tensed.

Lunge glanced back, just once. "It's not a battlefield. It's worse. They don't send survivors there. They send adaptations."

Then he smirked faintly.

"Starting tomorrow, we train for it. No more drifting. No more oceans."

He paused at the door.

"Next time you visit your inner world—swim faster. I won't always be there to drag you out."