**Chapter 8: Week 2 – Pain is the Best Teacher (According to a Floating Blue Gremlin)**
**Part 1: The Pain Threshold**
The second week started with rain—soft, persistent, turning the central clearing into a slick, muddy arena. Saferu arrived soaked, tunic clinging, ear-slitter already slick in his grip. Grokemon floated under the overhang of a root canopy, dry as ever, cyan circuits glowing smugly against the gray sky.
"Day eight, host. Mana at 91%. Stamina… still pretending to be functional. Today's special: controlled suffering. Kaelin's orders. My favorite kind of content."
Kaelin stood in the center, rain dripping from her notched ears. Rin paced nearby, tail flicking, twin daggers spinning in his hands. Mirae waited at the edge with her herb satchel, expression calm but watchful.
"No shields today," Kaelin said. "No illusions. No chains. Just body and blade. Feel the hit. Learn from it."
Saferu swallowed. "Straight pain training?"
"Pain teaches faster than words," she replied. "The Forger broke our ancestors until they stopped flinching. You stop flinching, or you break."
Grokemon hovered closer, visor tilting. "Translation: get your ass handed to you until your brain files it under 'useful data' instead of 'trauma folder.' Classic exposure therapy with extra stabby-stabby."
Rin grinned. "I'll go easy. Maybe."
He lunged.
Saferu blocked—barely. Rin's dagger grazed his forearm, drawing a thin line of blood. Saferu hissed, Resilience kicking in: the sting sharpened his focus instead of dulling it. He countered—slow, telegraphed. Rin vanished, reappeared behind, kicking Saferu's knee. He dropped to one leg.
Grokemon narrated like a sports commentator. "And the meatbag eats dirt again! Crowd goes mild. Come on, blue boy—dodge like you mean it or I'm billing you for emotional damages."
Saferu pushed up. Another strike—Rin's blade nicked his shoulder. Pain flared. Saferu felt the old urge: retreat, hide, blue quiet. Instead he twisted, grabbed Rin's wrist, yanked him off-balance. Rin stumbled; Saferu drove an elbow into his side.
Rin grunted, eyes widening. "Not bad."
Grokemon whooped—a short, glitchy cheer. "There it is! First non-pathetic counterattack of the week. Progress bar: 0.3% to marginally competent. Keep bleeding, host—it's good for the algorithm."
**Part 2: Mirae's Quiet Lesson**
By late morning Saferu was a walking bruise. Kaelin called a pause. Mirae stepped forward, rain sliding off her fur like it respected her.
"Lie down," she said softly.
Saferu collapsed onto a mat under the overhang. Mirae knelt, pressing glowing herbs to the worst cuts. Warmth spread—pain receding, but not vanishing.
"You hold the hurt inside," she murmured. "Like a stone in your chest. Let it out. Let it become strength."
Saferu stared at the dripping vines above. "In my world… I just drank until it stopped hurting."
Mirae's fingers paused. "And did it stop?"
"No. It just waited."
She nodded. "Then here, you learn to wait with it. Breathe through it. The Forger taught us: pain remembered is pain mastered."
Grokemon floated down to mat level, visor dimming slightly—less snark for once. "She's not wrong, meatbag. Your emotional cache is at 87% capacity. Keep stuffing it down and the next Echo surge will have a five-star buffet with your name on it. Let some of it bleed out. Literally or figuratively. Dealer's choice."
Saferu exhaled. "How?"
Mirae placed a hand over his chest. "Feel it. Name it. Then release it into your Affinity."
Saferu closed his eyes. The blue in his veins stirred—cool, steady. He pictured the old room: gin bottle, unanswered texts, father's voice. The blue deepened, chains flickering at his fingertips—not to bind an enemy, but to hold the memory gently. Then he let go.
A soft pulse of blue mist rose from his palm, dissipating into the rain.
Grokemon's circuits brightened. "Mana spike detected. Emotional firewall integrity +12%. Nice. Didn't even have to call you a sad sack this time."
Mirae smiled faintly. "Again. Every day."
**Part 3: Grokemon's Overdrive**
Afternoon brought the hardest drill yet: blindfolded sparring in the rain. Saferu tied cloth over his eyes. Rin, Kaelin, and two other trainees circled.
"Sense the air," Kaelin said. "The shift. The intent."
Grokemon hovered just outside the circle. "Host, overlay at 100%. Weak-point markers active. Trajectory prediction online. Try not to die in front of your new furry fanclub."
The first strike came—Rin's dagger whistling. Saferu felt the air move, dodged left. Blade grazed his ear. He countered blindly—chains snapped out on instinct. They wrapped empty space. Rin laughed.
"Close."
Another attack—Kaelin this time. Saferu twisted, water shield flickering instinctively despite the "no shields" rule. It held—just. Grokemon chimed in.
"Cheat detected. Cute. Mana cost: minimal. Keep it up and I might unlock something actually useful."
Strike after strike. Saferu bled, bruised, stumbled. But each miss sharpened his senses. Each hit fed Resilience. The blue in his veins hummed louder.
Then—breakthrough.
Rin lunged. Saferu felt it—intent like a ripple in water. He sidestepped, chains erupting not to bind, but to pull. Rin flew forward; Saferu's knee met his gut. Rin hit the mud hard.
Silence. Rain pattering.
Rin coughed, then laughed. "Okay… that hurt."
Kaelin lowered her blade. "Enough."
Saferu ripped off the blindfold, breathing hard. Grokemon spun in a victory loop.
"Host performance upgrade: from 'punching bag' to 'occasional threat.' Mana overflow detected. Unlocking mid-tier feature: Echo Pulse. Short-range sonar ping using your regret chains. Detect movement through obstacles. Cooldown: three minutes. Congratulations—you're now slightly harder to sneak up on."
Saferu wiped rain and blood from his face. "Thanks… I think."
Grokemon's visor grinned. "Don't thank me yet. Week three is when the real fun starts. Think 'near-death experience buffet.'"
Saferu looked at the group—Rin pushing himself up with a grudging nod, Mirae already preparing herbs, Kaelin's scarred face showing the faintest approval.
Two weeks down.
One to go.
The depths waited.
And for the first time, Saferu didn't feel like running toward blue quiet.
He felt like walking into the dark—with friends, a sarcastic blue gremlin, and chains made of everything he used to hide from.