Ayla and Kenji walked through the corridors. Her face was still red as she remained silent during the whole journey. Kenji had tried to speak to her several times, but she ignored all his advances as her mind was occupied with thoughts.

After the training, all the indignation she had felt disappeared. It was not that she was not angry anymore. It was more like she understood her shortcomings.

Kareem was right. If the environment she fought in restricted her traits, she needed another way to nullify this defect.

Martial arts seemed to be that nullifier.

She side-eyed Kenji. "Can you beat him in martial arts?"

The question was an honest one. She wanted to know if her fake brother could land a blow on the annoying instructor.

Kenji, however, misread her tone for the tone of a younger sibling lining up an older sibling for revenge. He shivered.

"No way I can beat him before I reach Bronze."

Ayla read his mind without effort and caught the misunderstanding. She twitched her lips. "I meant can you land a blow on him?"

"Oh," Kenji said, realizing his error. "I can. I have unlocked the first gate of his martial art. That is how I became the number one runner in Atlantis Academy. No one under Bronze is my opponent."

He paused, feeling her deadpan gaze. "Well, except you." He rubbed the back of his head.

"Gate?" She raised a brow.

"Yeah. The martial arts Kareem taught has a total of six Gates. It is called The Path of Six Gates. The first is Root."

He demonstrated by stepping suddenly into her path. Ayla collided with his back and nearly fell. He caught her by the wrist and steadied her without turning around.

"You."

Her face burned further.

Kenji read the danger in the air without needing to look at her face. He sprinted off down the corridor before she could compose her response.

Ayla rolled her eyes at his retreating back.

The collision left a sore point on her forehead where the bone of his back had caught her. It made her think.

She had not been walking slowly. Her weight should have at least pushed him off balance. Instead, she had bounced off him as though he were a section of wall the household had quietly installed in the corridor.

The Path of Six Gates piqued her interest.

If she and Kenji had fought without traits, she would never be his opponent. Ayla decided to become serious at the next training session.

Well, she was serious all the time, it was just that she was simply not an opponent for Kareem. Ayla acted as if that was not the case.

Kareem was an old human with many years of experience, while she was not even a week older. If she were the same age as him, he would never be an opponent for her.

She calmed herself with that thought as she increased her pace to catch up with Kenji.

Lunch served quietly.

Damien had been called away to the city office on a council matter. Sarah was at her standing weekly meeting with the family’s three boards.

The two fake siblings ate alone.

The kitchen had prepared food specifically for a body that had been thrown into the floor forty-seven times. A clear soup with thin slices of beef and a green leaf Ayla did not recognize.

A grain dish that smelled of broth and something herbal. Slices of citrus alongside small pieces of dark chocolate, which Sarah had instructed the staff to include with every meal until further notice.

Ayla ate her full portion and reached for a second helping of the grain. Kenji watched her eat without comment.

Human food had moved firmly into the place inside her menu once reserved for the brains of high-grade Crusaders.

After lunch, she rested for an hour to let the food settle. Then she walked back to the training facility on her own.

Kareem was waiting for her in the centre of the floor. Her step was firmer than it had been when she left at midday. Her shoulders sat lower. Her jaw was set. Kareem’s eyebrow lifted a fraction.

’The little lass has decided to become serious.’

All the composure she mimicked until now almost shattered. ’Calm down Ayla. Think something wonderful.’

’Like, savouring this human’s brain... ’

Ayla gritted her teeth inwardly. She pressed her lips together after taking a deep breath. She was not a little lass.

She did not say it aloud. She had decided that becoming Kareem’s better was a more satisfying response than correcting his vocabulary. She stopped two paces in front of him.

"Teach me the First Gate."

Kareem studied her face for a long second. Whatever he had expected from the afternoon, it had not included her returning composed.

"The First Gate is called Root. It does not require strength. It does not require skill. It requires the body to learn what the body has forgotten."

"What has it forgotten?"

"How to stand."

Ayla blinked. "I have been standing all my life."

"You have been balancing. There is a difference." He gestured to a faded chalk mark at the centre of the mat.

A simple circle. Wide enough for both of her feet. "Stand inside the circle."

She stepped into it.

"Feet shoulder-width. Knees soft. Tailbone tucked. Crown of the head pulled toward the ceiling as if a string were attached. Shoulders down. Arms loose."

She arranged her body the way he described.

"Now find the line."

"What line?"

"The line that runs through your body from the top of your head to the floor. It does not exist. You are going to imagine it until your body finds it.

The line goes through your skull, your spine, the centre of your hips, and ends in the floor between your feet. The weight of your head must travel down the line.

The weight of your shoulders. The weight of your hips. Every weight in your body must rest on the line and pass through it into the floor."

"And then?"

"And then you stand for one hour without moving. If you sway, you start over."

"Are you joking? If that is the case, this is so funny." She laughed and waited for him to do so. He did not. His face was dead serious.

"Begin."

Ayla swore she saw mocking in his eyes. He believed she could not do this simple task. What a joke! She would prove him wrong.

After ten minutes, he was not wrong. A small ache began in her lower back. She tried to adjust. Her hips shifted by a hair.

"Sway." Kareem’s voice was quiet. He had been watching her without seeming to watch her. "Start over."

She returned her hips to the line. This time she lasted fifteen minutes, then her left ankle began to tingle. She locked her toes against the mat.

"Sway. The toes are gripping. The body cannot grip. The body must rest."

She unlocked her toes. Like that, she started over five times. Frustration tried its best to break her, but between the humiliation and the thirst to show Kareem she was not weak, Ayla held on.

Then, at one point, she felt that line and everything changed.

The weight of her head passed down through the column of her body and settled into the floor between her feet. Her shoulders stopped trying to lift.

Her ankles stopped tingling. The small ache in her lower back faded because her hips had stopped fighting her spine.

She stood. She breathed. Time stopped meaning anything. Kareem watched her from across the mat without speaking.

The hour passed. She did not sway again. When the chamber clock finally chimed the hour, she did not move until Kareem said her name.

"Ayla."

She blinked.

"You may step out of the circle."

She stepped out. Her knees did not buckle. Her hips did not stiffen. Kareem nodded once. "That is the beginning of the First Gate. The body has met the line. Tomorrow you will hold the line for two hours."

Ayla exhaled slowly. The weight of the lesson sat in her mind. Her balance had improved by a measurable degree. Her stance no longer wasted energy on small corrections.

The First Gate was not strength. The First Gate was permission. Permission to move.

She bowed genuinely.

"Thank you."

Kareem’s eyebrow lifted again. He had not expected the bow. "Tomorrow morning. Same time."

"Yes."

She walked out of the chamber without looking back. Behind a one-way window above the floor, Damien watched his daughter step out of the circle for the first time.

His hands stayed clasped behind his back. His face did not move. His mind did.

’She found the line in one afternoon.’

A pause.

’Kenji took six weeks.’