On a desolate stretch of Yardrat, a solitary wooden house stood in stark contrast to the surrounding emptiness. Before it, a purple-skinned Yardratian sat in deep meditation. His eyes snapped open, focusing on a point two meters ahead just as the air rippled.
Whoosh!
Elder Pybara materialized precisely at that spot, his Instant Transmission flawless.
"Dewitt," the Elder began, his voice calm as he shrunk his form down to match the other's modest height. "You already know why I have come."
The seer, Dewitt, gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable. "I do."
His precognitive gifts afforded him glimpses—fragmented visions of people and events yet to unfold. He had seen the threads of today's conversation long before they were spoken.
Satisfied, Pybara came to his point. "The two Saiyans. Rhode and Aira. What is their significance?"
To Pybara, the answer seemed simple: imparting the basics of Spirito cultivation was a minor matter. But Dewitt's next words carried a weight that gave him pause.
"It is a blessing, not a misfortune. Fulfill their requests with all your might."
Pybara's antennae quivered with surprise. "With all our might?" The directive was far more absolute than he had anticipated. "What did you see, Dewitt?"
"If there is nothing else, you should leave. I must return to my cultivation."
Dewitt offered no elaboration, his tone closing the subject. To speak of the future was to risk altering its delicate tapestry. Seeing the seer's eyes fall shut once more, Pybara was not offended—such was Dewitt's reclusive and inscrutable nature. With a final nod of respect, he vanished as silently as he had arrived.
Alone again, Dewitt's eyes opened. He gazed not at the empty wasteland, but inward, toward the flickering images only he could perceive: cataclysmic conflicts, universes trembling on the edge of oblivion, and amidst the chaos, two fierce lights burning with defiant discipline.
A world brimming with misfortunes, he lamented silently, his heart heavy with cosmic pity. With a final, weary sigh directed at the star-dusted void above, he submerged himself once more into meditation.
Meanwhile, having received Dewitt's cryptic blessing, Elder Pybara returned to his duties with renewed focus. If the seer saw these Saiyans as a boon, he would ensure their training was taken seriously.
At that moment, Rhode and Aira stood with Hasky in a vast training ground—a field dominated by a forest of needle-sharp conical structures.
"Before you can hope to grasp our techniques," Hasky instructed, his voice stern, "you must first achieve perfect equilibrium between Spirito and body. Your foundation is everything." His gaze shifted pointedly to Aira. "Especially you. Your power is formidable, but it is a turbulent sea. Your spirit and flesh are out of sync. This imbalance must be corrected."
Aira's jaw tightened at the blunt assessment, but she swallowed her pride. The words, though harsh, rang with truth.
"For your first lesson," Hasky continued, gesturing to the field of spikes, "you will stand upon them. The goal is not merely balance, but sustained, perfect stillness. It requires precise Spirito control at your feet and unbreakable mental focus. Only when you can remain here as effortlessly as the mountain rests upon the earth will you be ready to proceed."
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Without a word, Rhode and Aira leaped. Each landed atop a separate cone, their forms settling into a statuesque poise. There was no wobble, no strain—just immediate, absolute stillness. Rhode stood with the calm of deep water, while Aira held her position with the fierce concentration of a drawn bow.
Hasky watched, his normally impassive face betraying a flicker of surprise. The foundational test, designed to humble and challenge, had been met not with struggle, but with mastery. The real training, he realized, was only just beginning.
Observing their unnaturally stable forms, Hasky's initial surprise quickly gave way to understanding. A closer look revealed the truth: they weren't finessing their energy; they were brute-forcing it. A massive, wasteful cushion of Spirito swelled beneath their feet, rendering the sharp points harmless and the lesson pointless.
"Conservation is the principle!" Hasky called out, unable to mask his exasperation. "Do not flood the space with power! Use the minimum amount necessary to neutralize the point's effect. Precision, not volume!"
At his instruction, both Saiyans adjusted. Rhode's aura dimmed almost instantly, the rampant energy receding until only a paper-thin, brilliantly controlled layer of Spirito remained between his foot and the needle's tip. It was a masterful display of restraint.
"Good! Rhode, excellent!" Hasky nodded, genuine approval in his voice. "That is the balance we seek."
His gaze then shifted to Aira, and his demeanor hardened. "Aira! You are still using ten times what is needed! Reduce it further! Again!"
The public correction, though not insulting, grated against Aira's pride. A flicker of heat rose in her cheeks, but with only Rhode and Hasky as witnesses, she mastered her temper, biting back a retort. The training, it seemed, was as much for her spirit as it was for her Spirito control.
Half a day passed in focused silence. Hasky watched Rhode, who stood unmoving, his energy signature now a model of perfect, still efficiency—a flawless equilibrium between preservation and effect. It was a level of control that typically took initiates weeks to grasp.
"Rhode," Hasky announced, deciding he was ready. "You may proceed to movement."
This was a far greater challenge. To step from one needle-point to another required not just balance, but dynamic, instantaneous recalibration. Each landing point was unique, demanding a split-second adjustment of Spirito's density and distribution. It tested mental agility and reflexive control to their limits.
Rhode took his first few steps. His foot landed on a neighboring cone, but the Spirito flared—too much, then too little on the next step—causing a barely perceptible wobble. The perfect stasis was broken by the complexity of motion.
"Movement unravels fixed perfection," Hasky said, his tone more encouraging now. "This is expected. Do not rush. Feel the point, then meet it with exactly what it requires, nothing more."
As Rhode focused on the rhythm of step and adjustment, Hasky finally allowed himself a small, inward sigh of relief. For a moment, he had feared the Saiyan would master even this in a single afternoon. It was a comfort to see a challenge that required genuine effort. The true depth of Yardrat's teachings, it seemed, would not be so easily plumbed.