Vael jolted awake, heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the cracked ceiling of his cell. Every breath felt heavier, the air denser — not just cold, but pressing. His fingers twitched.
Something was different.
The world felt sharper. Edges more defined. The room wasn't just a box of stone and metal anymore — he could sense the space within it. The distance between the bars and the wall. The stretch between his hands and the floor. Even with his eyes closed, he could picture the room perfectly.
It was like he could feel the threads of reality pulling at him from all directions.
"So this is what awakening feels like…"
His body still ached from the previous day's ordeal, but underneath the pain pulsed a new energy. Something raw. Unstable. Alive.
Before he could explore it further, the door slammed open.
Two guards stepped in without a word and dragged him out. They didn't need to explain. He already knew.
They were taking him to fight.
The hallway was dead silent, save for the sound of boots and shackles. Eventually, they reached a thick, reinforced door that hissed open to reveal a massive concrete dome.
The Training Ring.
Rows of inmates loomed above, pressed against metal railings, hooting and snarling like animals in a cage. And far above them, behind reinforced glass, stood Dr. Smith and a few others in white coats — eyes locked on him.
In the center of the arena, a mountain of a man stretched lazily, iron club resting on his shoulder. His skin was layered with scars. A wicked grin split his face when he saw Vael.
"New meat?" the man laughed. "Hope you last longer than the last one."
They tossed Vael a rusted rapier. It felt wrong in his grip — too light, too foreign — but it was all he had.
A loud horn blared, and the giant was already moving.
Vael barely raised his blade in time. The first few swings he dodged by instinct. The fourth hit him hard across the ribs. Pain exploded in his side, and he dropped to one knee.
The crowd roared. Blood trickled down his shirt.
He wasn't fast enough. Wasn't strong enough. He didn't even know how to use the damn weapon properly.
The man raised his club again, ready to end it.
Panic rose in Vael's throat — then something in his core pulsed.
The air bent.
His vision warped.
Blink.
In a flash, he vanished — reappearing behind his opponent like a ghost. The man froze in confusion, too slow to react.
Vael lunged.
The blade slid cleanly into the back of the man's neck.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then chaos erupted above — the crowd screaming, jeering, cheering, shocked into frenzy. But Vael couldn't hear any of it. His vision blurred. His limbs trembled. He stood there, soaked in blood, breathing hard.
He didn't know how he did it.
He didn't care.
He was still alive.
The moment passed. Guards hauled him away, this time not with contempt, but something like caution. Like fear.
Instead of taking him straight back to his cell, they brought him into a stark white room. Clean. Sterile. Dr. Smith was already waiting inside, arms crossed, eyes shining with curiosity behind his mask.
"That," the doctor said slowly, "was fascinating."
Vael didn't answer. He could barely stand.
"Blinking. A full spatial displacement, and you didn't even know how. That's rare. Your core didn't just awaken — it reacted. Instinctively."
He walked a slow circle around Vael, studying him.
"You're unstable. Raw. But powerful. Dangerous, even."
There was a pause.
"Don't get too comfortable. We'll be intensifying your schedule — more training, more testing. Consider this an opportunity. Most here die unnoticed. You, at least, might be remembered."
He didn't wait for a reply. Just nodded once and left.
The cell door clanged shut behind Vael.
He sank to the floor, body aching, head spinning. The fight replayed over and over in his mind — not the pain, not the crowd — just that moment. That impossible second where the world bent around him and he moved.
He wanted to do it again.
He had to do it again.
Closing his eyes, he focused on that pulsing core deep in his chest. The threads of space tugged at him again — barely visible, barely there.
He tried.
Nothing.
He tried again.
A flicker.
The air shimmered faintly — just enough to make his heart race.
One more time.
He vanished — reappearing a foot to the left.
Vael smiled through gritted teeth, blood still crusted on his side.
"If this is all I have… then I'll master it."