Time flowed like a swift river.
In the weeks since their last hunt, Ashan and the others had dedicated themselves to Sadhana, their hidden cave becoming a crucible for growing strength.
They trained relentlessly, honing kiriyas and mantras until their movements were sharp and their chants precise.
Their sanctuary remained undiscovered, with a steady food supply provided by the forest's small game.
Yet, a pervasive tension hung in the air, carried on the echoes that sometimes rang through the trees—a dissonant chorus of Ganshka cries and Manuga roars.
'Are the Manuga factions beginning their final push for the keys?'
Ashan's expression darkened with the thought. 'We need to advance. Quickly.'
Taking his place, he settled into the posture for Sadhana.
"You think he can really reach the Awakened stage?" Dris asked Roderic between the clashing of their practice swords.
Roderic glanced toward the meditating Ashan.
"Perhaps. I feel the threshold myself. A few more vestiges might push me over."
Dris's face scrunched in confusion.
"If vestiges make you advance faster, why do we grind Sadhana like fools every day?"
Roderic's eye twitched. "I genuinely wonder if your skull is filled with bone or sawdust."
He sighed. "Sadhana is the control. Vestiges are the fuel. You can't handle the fuel without the control. And where do we get the fuel? From dead Sadhakas, which tends to make their friends and factions rather wrathful."
"Yes, yes, sage," Dris waved him off, prana flaring around him. "Enough lecture. Fight me!"
As dusk began to settle, Helma and Ballio fired arrows at Damara and Imla, who deflected them with spears.
The three other members drilled tirelessly.
The cave hummed with disciplined energy.
Ashan closed his eyes, his breathing slowing as he entered a state of dhyana.
'Three weeks of analysis. Three weeks of overlapping the Serpent and Rat Vidyas in my mind. It's time to put the theory into practice.'
The core understandings flashed through his mind:
Serpent Fraction: Greed as a binding force to be controlled.
Sharir Vidya: [Binding Coil Path] - Envelope, Restrain, Endure.
Atma Vidya: [Hidden State Path] – Conceal, Protect, Internalize.
Rat Fraction: Greed as an instinctive impulse to be exploited.
Sharir Vidya: [Thief Motion] - Move, Escape, Adapt.
Atma Vidya: [Secret Theft] - Extract, Manipulate, Observe.
He began, his hands forming the root mudra.
This was no longer the practice of one path, but the harmonization of four.
The First Four Seconds (Inhalation):
He drew breath through his nose, a spiral of energy coiling inwards along his spine towards his core, following the Serpent's path.
Simultaneously, a second, softer breath flowed outwards through his muscle joints, a current of the rat's instinct. He held the silent seeds of both Atma mantras ready in his mind.
The Next Four Seconds (Retention):
His body became a statue, lungs full, internal tension a perfect, coiled spring. His muscles gathered potential, a poised readiness without rigidity.
Mentally, he chanted, the twin mantras vibrating in the ancient tongue of Asurain:
𝔑𝔞-ℜ𝔞-𝔗𝔥𝔞! (Serpent - Internalize)
𝔗𝔞-𝔎𝔯𝔞-𝔜𝔞! (Rat - Prepare)
The Following Six Seconds (Exhalation):
He exhaled slowly through his mouth, a controlled uncoiling downward, whispering:
𝔈𝔰𝔥𝔞 𝔜𝔞𝔩𝔲𝔫 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔨𝔥! (Serpent – Release control outward)
Then, a sharper exhalation, a release of latent motion:
𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔞 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔲𝔎 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔢! (Rat – Execute the theft)
The Final Two Seconds (Stillness):
His body softened, embracing the completion of the coil, yet remained perfectly relaxed, ready to react.
A profound internal silence echoed; his mind was a clear, alert pool.
In that single, sixteen-second cycle, he felt it—a fundamental shift.
The warring prana and atmic energies, usually clashing like hostile beasts, became more docile.
They didn't just harmonise; they seemed to complete each other, filling voids he hadn't known were there.
The usual energy loss was still present but diminished.
He guided this new, refined energy toward his Muladhara chakra.
The chaotic sparks of collision were fewer, and the refinement process was smoother and more efficient.
He continued, lost in the rhythm of this revolutionary method.
Hours later, under the blanket of a full night, the others were eating.
"Still bland!" Dris complained, spitting out a piece of gristle.
"Looks like Ashan won't move until he breaks through."
The others glanced at Ashan, their expressions shifting from curiosity to concern.
Imla furrowed her brows. 'Strange. His energy flow is... different.' She used her life sense to probe gently.
Helma's eyes widened. "Ballio", she whispered, "senses his energy."
Ballio did, and his jaw went slack. 'It's... layered. Flowing in patterns I've never felt before.'
The other members of Team 7 shared similar looks of shock and confusion.
The three non-members merely watched, bewildered by the silent exchange.
Inside, Ashan felt the culmination approaching.
The path of Samyama Marga was arduous, requiring twice the effort, but the payoff was now imminent.
'This is it.'
His Muladhara chakra began to spin autonomously, voraciously drawing in prana and atmic. His spine flared with alternating waves of heat and cold.
The vast ocean of his chit sagar began to roil, waves cresting against the shores of his consciousness.
'So this is awakening.'
Then, it appeared—a coil of dark-golden light, sinuous and potent, wrapping around his root chakra.
Sin energy.
The corrupted, volatile legacy of the Danav race.
A shockwave of raw power vibrated up his spine, and he remembered Instructor Inria's warning: it could corrupt as easily as empower.
He guided his refined energies, weaving prana and atmic around the dark-golden coil, creating a stabilising lattice to contain its volatility.
His expression tightened, sweat beading on his forehead as he walked the razor's edge between breakthrough and self-destruction.
To the onlookers, the air around him shimmered.
The serpent tattoo on his right shoulder blazed with light, illuminating the fabric of his robe. Astonishingly, a second, fainter light glowed on his left shoulder—a nascent, phantom sigil.
The dark-golden energy spun faster, consuming the other energies, and for a single, terrifyingly beautiful moment, Ashan's eyes snapped open, revealing the grayish-white whirlpools of his siddhi before reverting to their natural hazel gold.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, the tension evaporating from his body.
He clenched his fists, feeling power thrum within his veins, solid and real.
'Finally. The Awakened stage.'
His life and soul senses expanded, the world around him snapping into sharper, more profound focus.
"Not bad! You actually broke through!" Dris was the first to reach him, a wide grin on his face.
"Congratulations!" Ballio, Helma, and Damara chorused.
"Now we have our first Awakened," Roderic said, a competitive glint in his eye. "Ashan, a duel. I need to see the difference."
"No, me first!" Dris interjected.
Imla, however, did not celebrate.
She stared at Ashan, her gaze piercing. "Ashan... what was that?" she asked, her voice low and serious. "Your energy flow... it was different. It felt... layered. How did you do your Sadhana?"