Part 3: The Breath of Fire (Lesson Begins)
Master Ignis had been talking for some time now, his voice weaving a mixture of past knowledge and political affairs. The subject was fascinating in its own right, but of no real interest to Sarah.
She was far too young to care about politics. What mattered to her was simple—training, making fire, and maybe one day forming her very own fireball.
If only she had been a little older, she might have realized the weight of what he was saying. For now, his words passed over her like warm air, meaningful but not yet understood.
In truth, Master Ignis was attempting to explain the origin of mutation itself: how it worked, the energy it required, and why it was wrong for an individual to consume a Certain Mutation Pill.
From what he said, Random Mutation seemed to be the very first type of mutation pill ever created—the foundation of all mutants, the "mother" of the Certain Pills.
To him, Random Mutation was the purest form of awakening. The creation of Certain Pills, in his view, had been a grave mistake.
His reasoning was simple. With Random Mutation, one's fate was left to destiny and the strength of one's inner spiritual energy.
Through this natural process, the spiritual energy actively participated in the formation of the mutant core. The result was a core attuned to its bearer's essence, granting the mutant higher chances of becoming truly powerful.
The Certain Pills, however, were different. They forced the creation of a mutant core, regardless of whether it was in harmony with spiritual energy or not. To Ignis, this was dangerous—reckless even.
"Yes, a core is formed," he explained, "but if it is not in tune with your inner spirit, it becomes flawed. Such an individual may find it nearly impossible to increase their core stage. Or worse—" His expression darkened. "—their spiritual energy may be severed entirely, leaving them trapped with nothing more than a bronze-stage core for the rest of their lives."
Sarah blinked, trying to follow, though her young mind wandered.
Master Ignis continued, his tone both firm and patient. He spoke of the energy mutants used, the very force that empowered their abilities today. According to him, this energy had always been present on Earth—accessible to some, and hidden from others.
He did not explain fully why it was so, but he offered hints.
"In the past," he said, "to access this energy, one had to follow certain disciplines. Martial artists, for example, learned to harness it through rigorous training. Others gained it only through rare fortune, or perhaps divine blessing. But always, one truth remained: they had to detach themselves from the world—abandon their craving for material possessions. Only then could they draw upon it."
Sarah fidgeted, half-listening.
"This same energy," Ignis continued, "was given many names across different traditions. Martial artists called it Qi. Others called it divine energy. Some knew it as mana. But today, the world knows it as Mutant Energy—what we call MÊ."
He paused, letting the words settle, as though carving the truth into stone.
But questions inevitably arose. If this energy had always existed, why had it not been available to everyone? What changed when the rifts appeared?
Ignis anticipated the thought. "The energy was always here, but only in small traces. To acquire it, great effort and discipline were required. But when the rifts tore open, everything shifted. The otherworldly forces poured into our reality, amplifying this ancient energy, blending with it. Together they formed something new—abundant, potent, strong enough to mutate us."
He stopped speaking for a moment, giving Sarah time to process. She tilted her head, pretending to understand, though in truth, her young heart still burned only for fireballs.
Master Ignis's voice softened, yet grew heavier with meaning. "As you should understand, Sarah, depending on the type of core you possess, you gain access to a specific fragment of this vast energy.
Those with fire cores, like us, can command the fire aspect. Wind mutants channel the wind aspect. Yet in the end, all of it flows from the same eternal source. One energy, countless entities. Each core connects to its own path."
He raised his hands, gesturing as though dividing streams from a mighty river.
"And you, Sarah, along with me, have the ability to reach into the fiercest of them all—the fire entity of this universal power."
His words carried both gravity and pride.
Then, in one smooth motion, he shifted his stance.
His knees bent slightly, his back straight but not rigid, his shoulders loose. His arms rested naturally at his sides. It was a posture of balance—relaxed, grounded, yet prepared.
"Observe, Sarah," he said gently.
"This is not mere standing. It is a stance designed to maximize the energy I can draw in and guide through my body. My feet are roots sinking deep into the earth, drawing both stability and power. When you stand this way, it must be perfect—so perfect you can feel the solidity beneath you."
Sarah eagerly mimicked him. Her little feet pressed against the warm tiles, her shoulders trying to loosen, her knees bending. Yet she was stiff, her posture awkward. She was still a child, and imitation only went so far.
"Good," Ignis encouraged with a faint smile. "Now, feel the energy. And breathe."
She obeyed without hesitation, inhaling deeply.
"Again," he commanded.
She drew another breath.
"Again."
She repeated it once more.
"Now," Ignis said, "imagine your lungs as solar panels, drawing in the heat and essence of the sun."
His chest expanded with a deep, deliberate breath. As he inhaled, a golden aura shimmered faintly around his hands, pulsing with each draw of air. Sarah's eyes widened in awe.
"When you breathe in, you are not filling your lungs with mere air," he explained. "You are absorbing the energy of this chamber, the energy saturating the world since the rifts. Feel it seep into you, warming your core, as though your very breath is light captured by those panels."
He exhaled slowly, a stream of controlled release. The golden aura dimmed into a gentle glow.
"You've been taught that fire requires oxygen to exist," he said. "This is true—but incomplete. The energy we breathe is like oxygen, but not the same. It feeds not our lungs, but our cores, strengthening the flames we command."
Sarah leaned forward slightly, as though the words themselves were fire she wished to touch.
Ignis lowered his voice. "But heed this—if you exhale carelessly, you do not merely release air. You release your gathered energy. That is why you must master this art—the Breath of Fire."
His hands moved now, slowly cupping the space before him. Between them shimmered a faint ripple, like heat waves rising from stone.
"See, Sarah?" His tone carried both instruction and wonder. "This spark is the whisper of will, born through breath. Respiration is the key that awakens flame. But flame is volatile. Without control, it devours. That is why focus is the second pillar."
His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression grave. "Without perfect breath and unwavering focus, two things may happen—you may never summon fire at all… or worse, summon it without control."
Sarah swallowed, her excitement tempered by a spark of fear.
Ignis shifted again into a deeper stance, feet braced, arms extended, body poised. The lesson was far from over.
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