Ben nodded. "It is. Good luck."
Alex tried—and immediately almost fell. He barely balanced himself and kept going, groaning with each hop.
Ten minutes later, he lay on the grass, staring at the sky, gasping. Then—plop. A helmet, knee pads, and elbow pads landed on his face.
Mark towered above him. "Wear them. Don't die."
Alex geared up and kept jumping. Two long, torturous laps later, it was evening.
Alex collapsed, soaked in sweat, arms and legs jelly.
ben, Gwen, and Athina walked over. Gwen knelt beside Alex, gently wiping the sweat from his face with a napkin.
"You okay, Alex?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with concern.
He flashed a tired grin. "Just having a spiritual awakening, Princess."
She blushed, then smacked his forehead with the napkin. "Don't call me that! Next time, I'm calling you Prince Foster."
Alex groaned. "Ugh, not that cursed name again…"
Athina crossed her arms and arched a brow. "Alex, you muscle-head. Do you ever think before you act?"
Still sprawled on the ground, he gave her a lazy thumbs-up. "Thinking is for people who aren't dying."
He laughed, then sat up with a grin. "What's wrong with that? And why are you all scolding me like I robbed a candy store?"
Ben chuckled. Gwen and Athina rolled their eyes, then each grabbed one of Ben's arms and dragged him away for their next round of training.
Alex stayed behind, peeling off the helmet, knee pads, and elbow guards. He tossed them to the side, dropped to the ground, and started knocking out pushups.
After finishing his push-ups, Alex stumbled over to Mark, sweat trickling down his brow. His chest rose and fell like waves crashing against rock.
"Show me that kick again," he said, breathless but eager.
Mark nodded, then demonstrated the roundhouse step by step—calm, fluid, precise. Alex watched. Mimicked. Failed.
He tried again. Fell again. But grit lived in his bones.
He didn't stop.
Again. And again.
Then—he landed it. Not perfectly, not cleanly, but the movement connected.
He blinked. "Wait… how did I—?"
Mark only smiled. "Now for your legs. We need to make them dance."
He guided him through a set of brutal flexibility exercises. Alex groaned, stretched, twisted—and kept going. For the next hour, his limbs burned, his muscles screamed. But he didn't quit.
Then came the next trial.
"Focus your Qi," Mark said.
Alex sat cross-legged, hands resting on his knees, brow furrowed in concentration. Minutes passed. Nothing.
Then—he felt it. A strange warmth bubbling in his core.
But it slipped.
Failed.
Still—he refused to give in.
And that's when it started.
A foul, black liquid began seeping from his pores, slick like oil, stinking like burnt metal and old grease.
"Hey! Old man!" Alex called out. "Some black bike grease is coming out of my body—and it stinks! What the hell?!"
Mark jolted up, rushed over, and checked his pulse—one wrist, then the other.
He grinned wide. "It's working. It's purging! Don't stop. Keep going till the end of training!"
Alex rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and resumed the movements—this time, slower, deeper, more focused.
"Start feeling the Qi, kid! It's there!" Mark shouted.
"I can't! It's hard!" Alex growled, frustration in his voice.
Mark stepped in front of him, eyes sharp. "Close your eyes. Breathe. Focus. Now."
Alex obeyed.
Silence.
Then—warmth. A pulse in his stomach. Like a sun rising behind a storm.
"Don't lose it!" Mark barked. "Let it move your body! Your body remembers the stance—the flow!"
Alex's hands moved. Stuttering at first. Then smoother. Graceful. Like the memory of someone who'd done this before.
Midway through, something shifted. His body moved on its own.
Mark stared, whispering to himself, "What kind of monster is this kid…? He's a genius. He's already walking the path."
"Alex, keep doing it until your soul knows it. Don't worry about anything else!" Mark said, eyes gleaming.
And Alex did. For hours.
Mark didn't look away once. The black and grey toxins continued to leak from Alex's skin, dripping onto the mat, dark and putrid.
Another hour passed. Then another.
Alex kept moving.
Unstoppable.
Xander, Sam, and John soared into the open training ground with a worried face.
They saw Alex—eyes closed, body flowing like water and wind. They moved to land—but Mark raised a hand, his eyes warning: Silence.
They obeyed, sitting quietly in the bleachers. Watching.
After three relentless hours, Alex's eyes opened.
Bright. Clear. Fierce.
He blinked, then looked down at himself.
"…Why does my body feel so light?" he whispered, confused.
Mark stepped forward, checked his pulse—and then let out a loud, echoing laugh.
He grabbed Alex by the waist, lifted him in the air, and shouted into the heavens:
"HOO HOO HOO! MY DISCIPLE HAS AWAKENED!"
Excellent continuation, abhi! The heart is fierce, the world-building is blooming, and Alex's transformation is pure shōnen glory—like a scene straight from a gritty martial arts anime.
Alex looked confused and asked, "Old man, what just happened?!"
Mark laughed loudly, lifting his arms in triumph.
"Kid, you hit the jackpot! You did it!"
He set Alex down gently, then looked him straight in the eyes.
"Tell me—what do you want? Anything. Name it!"
Just then, Xander, Sam, and John flew over and landed beside them.
Xander raised a brow. "What's going on? Why are you so damn happy?"
Mark grinned like a madman. "Alex just cleared all the pollutants from his nervous system! He can use Qi now! I want to reward him."
John looked at Alex skeptically. "Why's that so special? Every Mirum awakener goes through that, right?"
Mark's eyes narrowed. "You don't get it. Most Mirums awaken through the system. They never do it on their own. There's no such thing as natural awakening anymore."
He turned back to Alex, his voice serious.
"But Alex… his body had white poison inside. It was silently restricting his Qi. He wasn't just blocked—he was cursed."
Without warning, Mark tore Alex's shirt open. Thick, sticky black and gray liquid covered his skin, tracing his nerve paths like corrupted veins.
Mark collected some of the oozing fluid in a small container.
"This… this stuff's not natural," he muttered.
Then he looked back at Alex. "What do you want, kid? Say it."
Alex chuckled. "I'll ask for it some other time."
Mark smiled. "Fair enough. Now—start the movement again. Bring out your Qi."
Alex stepped back, then slowly repeated the stances Mark had taught him. His movements were calm, precise—like water flowing down a mountain.
Then—energy began to gather around his hands.
When Alex opened his eyes, a radiant aura glowed around his palms—gold and white, swirling like twin storms.
Mark stared, stunned. "Do it. You've earned this—do it!"
Alex sprinted toward the center of the training ground. With a burst of power, he leapt high into the air, wind howling around him.
"Brace for impact, gentlemen!" Mark called out, laughing. "My disciple's making his move!"
Alex's fist slammed into the ground.
BOOM!
A shockwave erupted, cracks spider-webbing through the earth beneath his feet. Dust flew into the air like a volcano erupting.
Sam whistled. "Yo-hoo! You rocked that, kid! You nailed it!"
But before Alex could respond, his legs gave out.
He collapsed.
Mark rushed over, kneeling beside him. He checked his pulse, then exhaled in relief.
"He's fine. He just used up all of his Qi. He needs rest."
Xander glanced at the impact site, then back at Mark.
"That energy... it had two colors. What does that mean?"
Mark chuckled, but his eyes were serious.
"You noticed it, huh? That white Qi… it's like yours and Sam's—but more refined. Sharper. Superior. But the gold... that was wild. Violent. I need to study this. Record everything. Help him gain control."
He looked at Alex, unconscious but peaceful.
"Take him home. I'll come early morning for the next session."
Xander nodded, then gently lifted Alex onto his back.
As they reached the house, Tory rushed out, worry in her eyes.
"How is he? Is Alex okay?!"
Mark nodded calmly. "He's fine, girl. More than fine."
Then his tone shifted. "But we've got work to do. We need to figure out how to control that violent Qi."
He looked to the sky with resolve.
"Let's head to Mirum Headquarters. We'll need every record we can find."
They finally reached home.
John opened the door.
Xander nodded and said, "John, lock the door—and come to my room! We're all sleeping together tonight. It's better than letting them worry!"
Xander headed inside. Sam sniffed and winced.
"Ugh! He smells like burnt socks soaked in demon juice. Let's clean him up."
John went to the washroom and filled the bathtub with warm water.
Xander gently undressed Alex and placed him into the tub. He and Sam washed him up with care, like two awkward big brothers trying to handle a sleeping toddler who just wrestled a fire-breathing dragon.
Once cleaned, Xander carried Alex to the bed, tucked him in, and lay down beside him.
Sam and John flopped onto the big bed too.
They all passed out—exhausted, warm, and entirely unaware of how hilarious they looked.
next morning
A voice echoed in Xander's dream:
"Wake up, gentlemen! At least leave alex ! He has training!"
Xander's eyes blinked open.
Mark was at the door.
Beside him was Amber, arms crossed, wearing a smirk as wide as a sword slash.
Mark raised an eyebrow. "What kind of bachelor party is this? You all slept in the same bed?"
Xander squinted. "What? No. Why?"
Amber burst out laughing. "Look at them!"
Xander turned—and there it was.
Sam and John, cuddled up like newlyweds, one drooling on the other's shirt.
"WHAT THE—hey! Idiots! Wake up!" Xander yelled. "I think they drank wine last night!"
Sam blinked sleepily. "I don't even like wine…"
John muttered, "Is it morning already? Why is my face in Sam's hair?"
Alex stirred and opened his eyes. He spotted Mark standing there—and immediately closed his eyes again before snuggling into his father's chest.
Mark chuckled. "Oi, idiot. Get up. We've got training. Go freshen up and come downstairs."
He turned to Xander. "You and I need to talk."
Alex groaned and rolled off the bed, dragging himself into the bathroom.
In the Living Room
Xander followed Mark down the stairs. Half-awake, hair messy.
He paused midway, eyes wide when he saw mandora . "Wait... Did Mandora see us like that?!"
Mark nodded, grinning. "She came out, saw the snuggle pile, laughed so hard she choked on her coffee, and then sent me to wake you."
Xander covered his face. "Oh gods… I'll never recover from this embarrassment."