The first time Ryen pushed his talent to the limit—and still came up short—was during the terrorist attack at the entrance ceremony.
That day haunted him.
He remembered the burning in his limbs, the blinding pressure in his head, the way his vision blurred as he forced himself past what he thought was his peak. And yet, even after pushing beyond, it hadn't been enough.
It was the first time he'd felt truly powerless.
Since then, the feeling lingered like a splinter in the back of his mind. He hadn't broken through the wall people always talked about—not completely—but he had touched it. Caught a glimpse of what lay beyond. And once you see that, once you know it exists, imitating it—even crudely—becomes easier.
That attack changed something in him. For the first time, he realized he might not be able to protect the people around him. He might fail.
