The portal spat Kirin out like a broken spark.He hit the ground hard, rolling across a field of damp grass that shimmered under a pale, gold sun. The air was so clean it almost stung to breathe. A soft breeze brushed past him, carrying the faint scent of rain and something painfully familiar, the smell of soil after thunder.When he finally stood, the world around him stopped him cold.Mountains. Endless, layered mountains stretching so far that their peaks melted into clouds. Green meadows rippled like ocean waves. The horizon shimmered faintly, as if painted in light instead of color. No Dusk Qi. No floating islands. No distorted skies. Just stillness, pure, untainted, almost human.For a moment, it reminded him of Earth.He could almost see the abandoned villages, the dirt paths he once walked barefoot, the days before everything went wrong. But that was a cruel kind of nostalgia, the kind that hurt to remember.Behind him, the portal hissed. The air shimmered once more, and Seth

Kirin POVThe air crackled before Kirin even stepped into the arena.Lightning wasn’t just an element here, it was predominantly law. Every strike of thunder echoed like judgment, every spark that leapt through the vast circular chamber hummed with sentience, watching, measuring.The Indra Trial Arena wasn’t stone or steel, it was forged of crystallized stormlight, floating in an open void surrounded by a sea of black clouds. Lightning serpents swam lazily through the atmosphere, feeding on raw Qi currents. The audience, hundreds of Asthorians stood on hovering terraces around the edge, clothed in silvers and blues, their auras bright enough to burn mortal eyes.Kirin stood barefoot on the storm glass floor, chest still rising from the battle with Rael’s suppressive pressure. His fists were cut and his robe tattered. Seth stood at the edge of the arena beside Rael, who watched with that same relaxed smile, part amusement, part cold curiosity.“The Indra Trials,” Rael finally spoke, hi

Rael POVThe training courtyard of the Indra faction shimmered with layers of runic glass. Celestial Qi flowed like ribbons through the air, humming with a controlled serenity that only Astorians could maintain. It was a garden of thunder, lightning flowers bloomed along obsidian stems, sparking whenever footsteps disturbed their rhythm.Rael stood barefoot on the mirrored floor, his white hair tied in a loose band, arms folded behind his back. His aura was sheathed, but not gone, a quiet storm contained by centuries of discipline.Opposite him, Kirin stood, shirt torn at the collar, the faint trace of bruises still painting his jaw. His eyes were calm, yet his lightning flickered in his veins like trapped serpents.“This is your first lesson,” Rael began, voice smooth and sharp. “Here in Astoria, lightning does not obey irrational rage. It obeys reason. A storm is not a tantrum, it’s a dialogue between heaven and power.”Kirin raised a brow. “Dialogue?” His tone was dry, skeptical. “

The journey from the Indra Citadel to the Institute was long enough for Kirin to lose track of time. What should have been an hour felt like a day, perhaps because the air itself was different down here. It was denser, heavier, yet somehow more alive. Every breath he took carried faint particles of Qi, and every step hummed against the ground, as if the earth itself pulsed with a heartbeat too large for mortals to hear.Rael walked beside him in silence. The older man didn’t speak unless he had to, and when he did, it was never to comfort. Kirin was starting to realize that silence, in this world, was another kind of lesson.The Institute finally came into view after they crossed a bridge of crystalline stone. It wasn’t like the grand floating Citadel above, this place was grounded, built directly into the cliffs and plains of Astoria’s surface. Still, its size dwarfed any academy Kirin had ever seen.Massive walls rose in the distance, engraved with storm runes that flickered faintly

Morning came gently, slipping through the artificial window like a polite intruder. A soft hum filled the room, the sound of the pagoda awakening. The marble walls pulsed faintly with light, as if the entire building breathed with the rhythm of the Institute itself.Kirin groaned and sat up, still adjusting to the idea that this was real, that he’d actually made it here, that this wasn’t another dream of power he’d wake from in a dusty cot back on Earth. His hair stuck out in uneven spikes, his body sore from the strain of yesterday’s lightning tests.For a moment, he just stared at the ceiling.He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. No bell, no announcement, no instructor yelling at him to get up and cultivate. Just silence, the kind that felt almost too clean.Then he saw it.On the stand near his bed was a fresh set of clothes. Dark blue robes, neatly folded, pressed so perfectly they could’ve come straight from the heavens wardrobe. Beside them lay a long, narrow blade in a bl