The advanced disciples practiced resonance shaping at dawn.
Thin lines of compressed sound sliced through suspended leaves, severing them cleanly. Precision over force.
Vale stood at the edge.
"Observe only," an assistant instructor said.
Vale watched carefully—not the cuts, but the edges of the sound. Where vibration sharpened, where it destabilized.
Without intending to, his breathing aligned.
A faint pressure gathered around his hand.
A leaf drifted past.
Vale raised two fingers.
There was no sound.
Yet the leaf split—its halves falling without disturbance.
The assistant instructor froze.
"What technique was that?"
Vale looked at his hand. "I didn't release sound."
The instructor's expression tightened. "Then what cut it?"
Vale answered honestly. "The absence between movements."
By noon, rumors had spread.
By evening, the Covenant was informed.