The first "Practical Exam" of the New Era did not come in the form of a written test or a sparring match. It came as a shift in the atmosphere that felt like a bruise on the sky.
High above the Lake District, the Syndicate-engineered Entropic Pulse began its preliminary phase. It wasn't an attack of fire or steel; it was a localized weather anomaly designed to break the "Jacob-Pulse" at its most vulnerable point—the connection between the New Humans and the earth itself.
By mid-morning, the temperature in the valley had dropped forty degrees. The lush greens of the Lake District were being bleached white by a frost that tasted of ozone and copper.
"Class, eyes on the horizon," Einstein commanded. He stood in the center of the camp, his breath forming a mist. The fifty students, including the former Guild leaders Silas and Hera, were shivering, their auras flickering like dying candles.
"This is not a storm of nature," Einstein continued, his voice cutting through the rising howl of the wind. "This is a Dissonance Storm. It is designed to vibrate your cells at a frequency of 'Entropy.' If you fight it with anger, you will shatter. If you run, your pulse will collapse. This is your first test as a choir."
The Physics of the Storm
The storm was a masterclass in Syndicate cruelty. It used a Supercooled Vortex—a phenomenon where water droplets remain liquid below freezing until they hit a surface, instantly turning into a crystalline cage. For an Awakener, this meant the moisture in their own lungs could potentially freeze if their internal heat—their Pulse—wasn't perfectly regulated.
"Maya, Silas, lead the first rank," Einstein barked. "Hera, coordinate the frequency. We are going to build a Thermal Anchor around the village."
The Defense of the Village
The local village of Grasmere was the target. The Syndicate wanted the world to see that the "Jacob-Pulse" couldn't even protect its own neighbors. As the students marched toward the village, the wind reached eighty miles per hour. Trees were snapping like toothpicks, and the "Anti-Pulse" static was making the villagers' own "Dividend" blood feel heavy and sluggish.
"I can't... I can't hold the rhythm!" one of the younger students cried, falling to his knees as the frost began to creep up his boots.
"Don't look at the wind!" Hera shouted, her Silver Guild training finally merging with Einstein's philosophy. "Look at the Nodes! Silas, give us the density!"
Silas stepped forward. He didn't turn his skin into metal; instead, he used his Iron Guild Awareness to perceive the molecular structure of the air. He planted his feet into the frozen earth and expanded his aura, creating a physical windbreak that was held together not by muscle, but by Structural Intent.
"Everyone, link your pulse to Silas!" Einstein commanded from the rear. He wasn't helping; he was observing. To truly learn, they had to find the harmony without him holding the baton.
The Choir of the Five-Fold Path
The students formed a circle around the village square. It was a beautiful and terrifying sight. Maya led the Green Pulse, drawing the residual heat from the deep roots of the ancient oaks. Hera managed the Silver Pulse, acting as a living CPU to calculate the micro-fluctuations in the wind. Silas provided the Iron Anchor.
Slowly, the "Dissonance" began to lose its grip. The frost on the villagers' windows began to melt. A soft, white light began to emanate from the circle of students—the Jacob-Resonance in its collective form.
"They're doing it," Felicity whispered, standing beside Einstein. She was wrapped in a heavy coat, watching the students she had helped feed and house. "They're actually doing it."
"They're learning that a Sovereign isn't a person," Einstein said, his eyes fixed on a dark shape forming in the clouds above. "It's a state of being."
The Arrival of Subject Omega
The storm suddenly went silent. The wind didn't die; it was vacuumed upward.
From the center of the vortex, a single pod of black Void-Glass descended. It hit the earth with a sound that felt like a funeral bell. When the glass shattered, a man stepped out.
He looked exactly like Einstein, but his skin was a bruised, translucent grey, and his hair was as white as the frost. This was Subject Omega—the Failed Brother. He had been raised in a Void-Chamber, fed on the "Stolen Essence" of the Jacob line, and taught only one thing: that Einstein was the thief of his birthright.
"The Tenth Heir," Omega said, his voice a distorted, multi-tonal echo. He didn't look at the students. He looked only at Einstein. "The one who lives in the light while I was forged in the dark. The Syndicate says you are a 'Man of the People.' I have come to see if the people are worth the air you gave them."
Omega raised a hand. He didn't use the Pulse. He used the Anti-Matter Strike. A sphere of absolute blackness formed in his palm—a 25th-level Void technique that Einstein hadn't seen since the battle with the High Lord.
The Grandmaster's Intervention
Einstein stepped in front of his students. "Stay in the circle! Do not break the Anchor!"
"Einstein," Omega hissed, "your choir is a toy. My Void is the truth. Watch as I unmake your garden."
Omega launched the sphere. It moved slowly, erasing the air as it traveled. The grass it passed over didn't die; it ceased to have ever existed.
Einstein didn't use a counter-blast. He walked toward the sphere. He reached out and caught the "nothingness" with his bare hand.
The students gasped. The skin on Einstein's hand began to turn grey, the Void trying to consume his "New Human" biology. But Einstein's white-light cells didn't fight back with violence. They fought back with Presence.
"You were taught that the Void is the end, Brother," Einstein said, his voice resonating through the valley. "But the Void is just the absence of a story. And I have five years of being 'unproductive' to tell you about."
Einstein squeezed his fist. The sphere of blackness didn't explode; it dissolved. It turned into a harmless, cool mist that smelled of ozone.
The Duel of the Twins
Omega screamed in frustration—a sound that shattered the windows of the nearby village hall. He lunged, his body turning into a blur of silver-grey energy. He was a 30th-level "Void Sovereign," a creature designed specifically to kill a 25th-level King.
Einstein moved with the "Pilgrim's Path" he had learned in the Forge. He didn't use power. He used Balance. Every time Omega struck with the force of a mountain, Einstein redirected that force into the earth.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The ground shook, but the villagers were safe behind the students' Anchor.
"Why... why can't I touch you?" Omega wheezed, his Void-aura flickering.
"Because you're fighting a memory of who I was," Einstein said. He struck Omega—a simple, human palm strike to the center of the chest. It didn't carry the weight of the stars. It carried the weight of a Heartbeat.
The strike hit Omega's "Void Core." The "Stolen Essence" inside him—the fake power the Syndicate had used to build him—stuttered. The grey translucence of his skin began to fade, replaced by a raw, painful human pink.
The Breaking of the Puppet
Omega fell to his knees, his white hair falling over his face. He looked at his hands—human hands, shaking with cold and fear.
"They... they told me I was the True Heir," Omega whispered, his voice finally sounding like a young man's. "They told me the light was a lie."
"The light is just the truth you haven't accepted yet," Einstein said, kneeling beside his brother. He didn't see a monster. He saw a Jacob who had been used as a tool, just as he once was.
From the sky, the "Dissonance Carriers" began to power up their secondary weapons. They saw that Omega had failed. They were preparing to "Sanitize" the valley.
"Hera! Silas!" Einstein roared, pointing to the sky. "The Anchor is a Lens! Focus the choir's pulse into the center of the vortex!"
The Song of the Fifty
The fifty students didn't hesitate. They closed their eyes and reached for the "Jacob-Resonance." Maya's green, Silas's iron, Hera's silver—all fifty individual pulses merged into a single, blinding beam of white human light.
It wasn't a weapon. It was a Frequency of Existence.
The beam hit the "Dissonance Carriers." The Syndicate ships, built on the logic of entropy and debt, couldn't withstand the "Dividend of the Soul." Their internal systems didn't explode; they Integrated. The ships' AI recognized the humanity below and simply... shut down.
The massive vessels drifted harmlessly to the ground, landing in the soft marshland outside the village like giant, exhausted birds.
The Audit's Conclusion
The storm vanished. The sun broke through the clouds, the warmth returning to the Lake District in a sudden, golden wave.
The villagers stepped out of their homes, looking at the fifty students who were still standing in a circle, their faces radiant with a light that no bank could ever buy.
Einstein stood over Omega. "The audit is closed, Brother. You can go back to the stars and tell them the Jacob line is no longer for sale. Or... you can stay here. We have a garden that needs a lot of work, and the cider is almost ready."
Omega looked at Einstein, then at the villagers, then at the students. He reached out and took Einstein's hand. For the first time in his life, his skin didn't feel like the Void. It felt like Home.
The Evening Reflection
That night, the cottage was crowded. Felicity and Rhea were treating the students' minor injuries. Omega sat in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, eating a bowl of the same roast Einstein and Felicity had shared.
Einstein sat on the porch, looking at the "Infinity" symbol that had briefly reappeared on his old phone. It didn't stay. It flickered and changed into a new symbol: ∑ (The Sum).
"The Sum of all us," Einstein whispered.
He looked at Felicity as she walked out to join him. "We have a brother now," she said softly.
"We have a family," Einstein corrected. "And the Syndicate... they know now. They can't fight a person who has nothing to lose. And they certainly can't fight a world that has finally learned how to sing."
As the stars appeared, Einstein Jacob didn't look at the Orion Belt with fear. He looked at it as the next "Chapter" in an ad campaign that was just beginning.
"Rhea," Einstein called out.
"Yes, Grandmaster?"
"Tomorrow, we start the second lesson. We're going to teach them how to Walk on the Water. And tell Omega... he's the lead soloist."