The sun crept over the peaks, casting golden slivers of light across the valley. The silence that blanketed the monastery grounds was not peaceful.
Kiran stood at the edge of a sheer cliff, back turned to the rising light. His eyes were closed, hands loosely at his sides, fingers twitching. The ground beneath him vibrated faintly. Not from movement but from something deeper.
Breath in.
Breath out.
He had felt the shift begin the moment his dream had ended. The haunting memories of the ancient younger brother still swirled inside him rituals of corruption, the searing rush of demonic essence, the faces of the seven corrupted disciples, all burning into his subconscious like tattoos of shadow. And yet, that wasn't the moment.
He feared he was being corrupted but the worst thing is he can not do anything about it.
But right now he was not focusing on that as the moment of his first chakra opening is here.
His spine straightened, breath slow and deep. In his mind, he could see it now like Aryan described a lotus at the base of his spine, red and trembling, closed but waiting. He reached inward, not gently, but with a smoldering determination. And the darkness inside responded.
I see it, Kiran thought. "The root. The first gate."
He saw it again not in the world around him, but within.
A burning red lotus unfolded in his mind's eye.
But its petals were sharp like blades.
The warmth that rose from his spine didn't feel like peace. It felt like pressure. Like fire trapped under skin. Thoughts whispered through him not in words, but in raw emotion. Power. Hunger. Agitation.
Why should he follow?
Why walk in his brother's shadow?
Why not lead? Why not take?
But the thoughts didn't come from him not entirely. They were like echoes from something buried within his subconscious.
Then, it bloomed.
Power surged upward from his base, rushing through his body like fire through dry leaves. His heart raced. His thoughts snarled. For a flickering second, something powerful cracked open inside him an echo of the ancient brother's rage, a temptation to seize, to dominate, to devour.
But he held on. Thinking of his brother who took care of him all these years.
Outwardly, his experience mirrored Aryan's. He steadied his breath, let the energy course. The Earth responded, faint pebbles rising around him, the dust swirling. He opened his eyes, and the world seemed slower, denser, realer.
A grin tugged at the edge of his lips.
He raised his hand and the ground rippled. A line of jagged stone cracked upward beneath his feet, rising like a fang from the earth.
Then, with a laugh and a push, he forced more power outward.
The mountain moaned. A section of the cliff face trembled and with a violent shudder, rocks broke loose from higher above. A landslide thundered down the slope in the distance, shaking trees and sending birds into the sky.
Aryan, who had been meditating below near the stream, jolted to his feet. He sprinted toward the sound.
From the cliffside above them, a section of earth split. Stones tumbled first small, then larger. Dust erupted. A landslide came down the slope in a thunderous roar.
Aryan's hand shot up. His chakra flared. Earth beneath their feet hardened into a shell, a quick dome of stone rising to shield them. The dust hit like a wave but the worst passed.
When it cleared, Aryan lowered the shield. His jaw clenched.
"Kiran!"
Kiran turned, still glowing faintly with earthen energy. "Did you see that?" he grinned. "I moved it. I moved the mountain."
Aryan's brow furrowed. "You're not supposed to force it. The Root isn't about command it's about connection. You listen to the Earth."
Kiran shrugged, eyes still burning faintly red. "It listened just fine."
Aryan looked at the falling stones, his gaze hardening. "You'll get us killed doing that."
Kiran's smile faded but he said nothing.
The tension between them thickened for a moment. Then Aryan turned and walked away. "Come on," he said over his shoulder. "There's something I need to try."
---
Later that morning, Aryan sat beneath the same tree where he had first meditated weeks ago. The cave's visions still danced behind his eyes. The battle between the ancient brothers. The way the Earth had answered his breath. The circle of the seven chakras.
But something else stirred now.
A sensation deeper than chakra a pulse beneath the energy flow. It had awakened with his Root, but now, it was moving again. A different kind of call. One not bound to a gate. One that had always been there.
He closed his eyes and let his awareness descend not into the chakras, but into the quiet spaces in between. The forgotten parts of the body where instinct met spirit.
And there, in the center of that stillness, he felt it.
A pattern.
The way the air bent around his breath. The way the ground pushed back against his weight. The way the energy of his body responded to every shift in posture. He could see it not with his eyes, but with a sixth sense, a spiritual perception of balance and design.
It wasn't an ability in the traditional sense not flames or winds or illusions.
It was understanding of his body.
The world moved in shapes, in ratios, in symmetry. Aryan sensed the natural structures within energy how energy within his chakra could turn more smoothly with just a tilt of the spine, how a burst of energy could double in efficiency if aligned with the body's skeletal frame. It was like architecture but not of buildings. Of existence.
His breath stilled. His hands rose instinctively, palms hovering above his abdomen. And then he guided his chakra.
Not forced. Not channeled. Guided.
The result was immediate.
A warm spiral of energy spun through his meridians, clean and smooth. His Root chakra pulsed once and then stabilized perfectly, as if he had been practicing for years. His breath flowed with it, perfectly attuned.
He opened his eyes slowly.
"I can feel it," he whispered. "The flow. The entire design."
And with that, the glow around him changed. It wasn't bright, but it was steady. Solid. Grounded. He looked down at his hands, not surprised to see fine grains of earth lifting from the soil, dancing around his wrists as if responding not to strength but to understanding.
Aryan had awakened his Innate Ability: [Architect's Sense] a supernatural intuition for balance, structure, and energetic alignment. And more than that, he had gained what few ever achieved:
Perfect Chakra Energy Control.
His flow would never be wasteful. His chakras would synchronize in battle like gears in a divine machine. As he advanced through the tiers, his breakthroughs would be smoother, cleaner, more powerful because his body would know when and how to evolve.
He rose, calm and centered.
Kiran approached, his steps heavier than usual, a trace of guilt in his stance.
"You okay?" he asked, still defensive.
Aryan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked past his brother toward the cliffs, where the landslide had left a scar in the earth.
"You're strong," Aryan said finally. "But there's more to power than force."
Kiran looked away. "I know."
Aryan placed a hand over his chest. "I understand now. Power has rhythm. If we listen, it tells us when to rise."
There was silence for a moment.
Then, Kiran nodded. "So… what now?"
Aryan turned to him.
"Now we begin again. Now as warriors. But also pioneer of a path."
But then Aryan thought something "We must first awaken your innate ability."
---
End of Chapter 7
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