The first weak threads of dawn filtered into the dorm. The room was quiet—until Jean ignited.
A controlled Pyrrion blaze flared around her fists and shoulders, illuminating the space with fierce orange-red light. She stood over Roy like a general preparing a soldier for war.
"No more half measures," she said, voice edged with iron. "From today, your training becomes relentless. Body. Puls. Willpower. Every part of you must surpass that Fluxite's instincts."
Roy pushed himself upright, exhaustion sinking deep into his bones—but something fiercer shone in his eyes. "Then let's make today worth it."
Jean smirked. "Good. Because I'm not holding back."
Physical Endurance: Breaking Limits
The Pulsar sun was merciless—its radiant heat amplified by the campus training field's crystalline terrain. Jean threw Roy into a gauntlet of weighted circuits, resistance spirals, and explosive agility drills.
"Faster!" she barked as he sprinted across shifting platforms.
"Lift higher!" when his knees trembled.
"Don't just move—dominate your movement!"
Roy's lungs burned. His muscles screamed. Every breath felt like it scraped fire across his throat.
But he kept going.
Jean conjured shimmering Ember-shadows—flickering silhouettes that mirrored Roy's mistakes and exploited his openings.
"Fight them!" she ordered.
And Roy did—parrying, dodging, striking, slipping, recovering.
As he pushed his body to exhaustion, something subtle occurred.
The Fluxite armor woven beneath his cells pulsed, its protective plates loosening ever so slightly. Where it once clung tightly, reacting to every danger with overbearing defense, now it receded—adjusting, respecting his rising physical strength.
Jean noticed.
"Good," she said quietly. "The Fluxite only yields when it sees you as the stronger partner."
Roy collapsed to one knee, gasping. "Then I'll make sure it keeps yielding."
Jean's flames flared with approval.
Puls Synchronization: The Internal Battle
The meditation chamber glowed with soft crystalline blue. Jean dimmed her flames to a flicker and knelt across from Roy.
"This part," she warned, "will hurt in ways your muscles cannot describe."
Roy steadied his breath. "I'm ready."
"Feel the Zephyros current," Jean whispered. "Let the wind pulse swirl through you—not as a storm you hide from under Fluxite protection, but as your own force. Command it."
Roy inhaled—and the wind erupted inside him.
A violent internal surge, like hurricanes twisting through his veins. His vision fractured. His pulse roared. Instinctively, the Fluxite tried to shield him, forming layers of invisible reactive defense.
Jean snapped her fingers. Flames circled them both.
"No. Don't let it take over. Override it."
Roy gritted his teeth as he forced the storm back into rhythm—slowly, painfully aligning it with his breathing pattern.
Jean's voice anchored him.
"Good… again."
They repeated the process until the storm bent, then softened, and finally pulsed in harmony with his heartbeat.
Jean smiled—not her usual proud smirk, but something genuine. "Harmony is the beginning of mastery. Control the inside, and your outside strength will triple."
Roy wiped sweat from his brow. "Feels like trying to tame a living hurricane."
"That's exactly what you're doing."
Combat Drills: Master vs. Instinct
Back on the sparring field, Jean unleashed Pyrrion Puls bursts with full intent.
Roy dodged a flame spiral.
Blocked a scorching direct hit.
Countered with a compressed wind-blade that tore across the training tiles.
But every time Jean's attacks came too close, the Fluxite's reflexive armor tried to shield him, throwing off his stance.
Jean shouted, "Trap its instincts inside yours! Don't wait for it to react—make your body the first answer!"
Roy took a strike to the shoulder, wobbling. "Fluxite's trying to cover me again!"
"Then push harder!"
He inhaled sharply—summoning Zephyros energy directly through his limbs—and his strikes grew sharper, his movements more disciplined.
At last, for the first time, his wind-blades formed before the Fluxite triggered its defense.
Jean's eyes widened. "You did it—the Fluxite followed your lead."
Roy smirked, sweat dripping. "Good. Because I'm done letting it babysit me."
Night Reflection: A Fire Shared
Night settled around the training grounds. Roy sat beside a small fire, soaking in its warmth, muscles throbbing from the day's brutality.
Jean joined him, her presence warm even without flames.
"You understand it now," she said quietly. "The Fluxite isn't your enemy. It's a guardian. But guardians can become cages if you never grow stronger than them."
Roy looked into the fire, eyes steady. "Then I'll become the strongest guardian it's ever had."
Jean nudged his shoulder playfully. "Careful—if you surpass it too fast, you might hurt its feelings."
He smirked. "Good. It needs to learn to keep up."
Jean's gaze softened—pride, warmth, and something unspoken.
"Get some rest, Roy. Tomorrow… we push harder."
As Roy closed his eyes, he felt it—
the Fluxite pulsing quietly inside him, not in dominance…
but in acknowledgment.
A bond forming.
A partnership awakening.
A storm and a shield learning to breathe as one.
Roy's mastery had begun.