We decided that training in the house wasn't a good idea — we wouldn't want to destroy it, obviously. So we postponed it to the next day.
Drake went back into my mind space and I finally looked at the time. It was 7:00 PM.
Everyone would be on their way back, so I went downstairs and settled onto the couch in a loose white t-shirt and black shorts. I flipped through channels one by one, hoping for something worth watching. There was nothing. And look, I don't judge easily — okay, I do — but seriously, could I get something original for once? Something other than drama? A good mystery show, maybe? Just once?
I shook my head and was about to give up when I heard the front door open and the sound of overlapping voices.
The trio walked in together.
I raised an eyebrow. "How come you all came back at the same time?"
Clara was the one to answer. "Dad went to pick up Mom and decided to grab me from Sarah's on the way."
I nodded. Nobody really stopped — everyone scattered off to change into something comfortable and freshen up.
I drifted into the kitchen and started washing and cutting vegetables, getting a head start on dinner, when Mom walked in and paused.
"Oh... you didn't have to do that."
I shook my head. "You rest. You must be tired. Let me handle it, at least for today."
She gave me that helpless smile of hers — the one she makes when she wants to argue but knows she won't win — just as Clara appeared behind her.
"Yeah, I'll help him," Clara said, already rolling up her sleeves. "Go sit with Dad."
Right on cue, Dad leaned in from the hallway. "Listen to your son. Clara's saying the same thing. Go, we've got it." He gave Mom a look that left no room for debate.
Me and Clara both smiled — not because Dad was a bad cook, but because he was almost dangerously good. He rarely cooked since he was always busy, but on the rare occasions he did, he completely blew us away. Mom's cooking was the only thing that ever gave him a real challenge. There was something about his cooking that felt extra special precisely because it was so rare.
He stepped in and took over naturally, and just like that, me and Clara were running around like Santa's little helpers — grabbing things, stirring, passing spices — while Dad moved through the kitchen like he'd never left it.
After a while, the food was ready. The aroma spread through the whole house.
Meanwhile — Elena's POV
I sat watching my husband and kids in the kitchen. All three of them, moving around each other without a word of complaint, when I knew each of them had their own long day behind them.
Tears filled my eyes — not from sadness, but from something quieter. Gratitude, maybe. Or just love.
I was never the most successful person. I wasn't someone remarkable. But I had this family, and I would never stop being grateful for them.
I quietly wiped my eyes and kept watching, saying nothing, just letting the moment be what it was.
When the food was finally laid out on the table, it was delicious — and honestly, you didn't need anyone to tell you that. You could just tell by the smell, by the way it looked, by who made what and why. It tasted extra special that evening, not just because of the ingredients, but because of the care behind every single dish. The kind of care that each person in this family quietly carried for the others.
After dinner, everyone drifted off to sleep.
So did I — with a full stomach and a happy smile, already looking forward to tomorrow.
The Next Day
After everyone left for their own things, I headed out with Rex to my hideout.
When I got there, I closed the gate of the open area and unclipped Rex from his rope. He bolted immediately, running in wide happy circles, tail going a mile a minute.
I found a raised spot, sat down, and focused on pulling Drake out.
With a small pop, Drake appeared in his fireball form, spinning slightly before he caught his bearings.
"Uwah—? Where—"
He spotted me and let out a long, tired sigh.
"At least warn me before you summon me."
"Ready to train?" He asked.
I nodded
He floated over. "Good. Now — tell me about the first time you felt that surge of power/mana."
I described the moment my strength spiked mid-workout, and he nodded slowly.
"That was mana, but not exactly in the way you think. At that point your body was still adjusting to mana. When you fused with me, the training just simulated that enhancement. But after forming your core, you've already hit the ceiling of what normal physical training can improve. Right now you're sitting at the peak of Rank E — physically, at least."
I blinked. That was the same rank as Alice.
Drake cut off my thoughts before I could sit with that too long. "Physical stats only. Control, mana usage, everything else — you haven't even scratched the surface."
That made more sense.
"So first, we train your aura. It'll help you manage your physical strength too. You haven't broken anything yet because you subconsciously regulate your own force — but in a real fight, a simple punch could accidentally kill someone."
I nodded. Uncontrollable strength is basically the same as being powerless.
"First rule of aura training — channel the aura that's already circulating through your body. Don't touch the mana from your magic core."
I closed my eyes and focused. Through my third eye, both looked similar at first glance — but the differences were there. The aura moved through specialized, almost ethereal pathways running throughout my body. The mana was different — it flowed everywhere, moving with my blood.
Aura was concentrated whereas mana was spread out.
After concentrating for a while, I managed to redirect the aura's flow outward, toward my hands.
I opened my eyes. A wild orange energy aura wrapped around both palms.
"Not bad. You picked that up fast — but don't celebrate yet. You're pushing out way too much."
Drake crossed his little fireball arms.
"The aura should be a thin, compressed layer sitting right against your skin. Tight. Controlled. Not floating around like it's trying to escape."
He kept drilling me through the rest of the day. Correction after correction. Hour after hour.
By evening, I had it.
A thin but solid layer of orange wrapped my hands and arms — dense, still, and actually under my control.
Drake stared at me for a moment.
"...You're more talented than I thought. Borderline freaky, honestly."
I smiled.
"I've seen people learn this in days. Not hours. First time using it, too." He shook his head like he wasn't sure whether to be impressed or unsettled, then disappeared back into my mindspace without another word.
Rex was sprawled nearby, watching me with quiet, attentive eyes.
i thought about testing this...
I stood up and looked at the solid concrete wall in the far corner. Walked over to it.
I hit it at 1% density.
A mild dent appeared — like someone had taken a hammer to it.
I adjusted. 10%.
My fist went straight through the wall.
I pulled my hand back and stared at it.
If 10% did that... what would 100% look like?
I shook my head. That was a question for tomorrow, and for when Drake was watching.
I called Rex over, clipped his rope back on, and headed home. We made it back just before the last of the sunlight faded.
Nobody was home yet. I got Rex his food and water, drank some myself, and sat down quietly.
Today's training had hit differently. Before, I never really had anything to measure these powers against — no frame of reference for what it actually meant to step into this world. But using just my aura, barely scratching the surface at Rank E, had been enough to make one thing very clear.
In the grand scheme of things, I was still very small.
And if I wanted to keep the people around me safe — truly safe — I was going to have to become a lot stronger.