Master Zhang's voice held a gravity that drew his students into a silence brimming with anticipation. The setting sun cast long shadows that danced upon the cobblestone courtyard, their patterns an echo of the day's fading light. With a gesture, he bade them sit, his movements deliberate and serene.

"I want to speak with all of you."

Chen's whisper to Gao barely disturbed the air, yet it carried the weight of youthful anxiety. "Oh no, are we in trouble?"

“You think he found out about us sneak–”

"Quiet, you two," Li Bie cut them off.

"Master, did we do something wrong?" Yuyan’s voice trembled, each word a fragile question mark hanging in the air.

Master Zhang’s eyes softened, his gaze that of a compassionate surrogate father. "No, you're not in trouble," he reassured, his tone a gentle balm. "Quite the opposite. You have all been a part of this academy for quite some time, and it has been my honor to watch each of you grow into strong and capable young men and women."

His words lingered, warm and tender, yet beneath them lay a burden unshared.

"Master, what are you saying?" Chen’s concern broke through his composure, a crack in the façade of calm.

"I am saying that it is time," Master Zhang’s declaration hung in the air, solemn and unyielding. His arms clasped behind his back, he regarded his senior students—each face a canvas of wonder and confusion. Memories of their beginnings surged through his mind: wide-eyed youths in this very courtyard, now tempered by years of discipline, understanding, and wisdom. His chest swelled with pride he could scarcely contain.

"It is time for all of you to graduate."

The collective gasp was an exhale of astonishment. Graduation—a concept whispered in passing, a distant dream—now spoken into reality.

Their journey of cultivation had begun with mastering meditation rituals, the Ohm technique fundamental. Through controlled breathing and focused concentration, they learned to feel, visualize, and channel their Prana. Shui, the internal manifestation of Prana, allowed them to perform feats beyond the ordinary. Yet, an advanced form of meditation remained unlearned, daunting. But Master Zhang's faith in them was unwavering.

"Are you sure we're ready, Master Zhang?" Li Bie's voice was tinged with hesitance, the weight of self-doubt familiar.

"Do not worry, Li Bie," the headmaster’s smile was a beacon of reassurance. "I believe in each and every one of you. Do not think little of yourselves."

Yuyan’s shoulders slumped, her gaze falling. Her jealousy of Lingqi’s natural talent resurfaced, a thorn in her side. It had taken her four years to reach her current level, while Lingqi’s progress seemed effortless by comparison.

"I'm ready, Master. We all are," she declared, her voice steady against the tide of insecurity.

Li Bie, inspired by Yuyan’s resolve, nodded. "That’s right, we are," Chen chimed in, transformed from the lazy, undisciplined boy he once was. The academy had shaped him into someone new.

"You can count on us, Master," Gao’s nod was one of spiritual growth, his journey through cultivation a path to inner peace.

Yi Ming’s curt nod spoke volumes; his apprehension was evident, but so was his commitment.

"Very well, students," Master Zhang’s satisfaction was evident. He led them to the meditation grounds, where the very air seemed charged with possibility. Taking his seat, legs crossed and hands resting in his lap, he was the epitome of serenity.

"I trust that you enjoyed your evening at the capital?" His question was a quiet thunderclap, stunning the students into silence.

"H-How did you know?" Li Bie’s mouth fell open, shock evident.

"Because you just told him, you idiot!" Chen’s exasperation burst forth.

Master Zhang’s laughter was a warm, rolling tide. "My students, you have learned much, but there is still more for you to master."

Yuyan’s mind churned, as did the others’. Somehow, their master had tracked them even while engrossed in a game of weiqi with Yi Ming.

"You used your Prana, right?" Yuyan’s question was tentative, a step into the unknown.

"Correct," the master nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

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"So that means...the meditation ritual we’re about to learn..." Gao’s realization dawned slowly.

"Is the next and final step of your training," Master Zhang confirmed.

Their master’s abilities were beyond their wildest imaginings. To sense the energy of all things, to expand one's senses and sharpen perceptions—this was Yana.

"I want each of you to meditate and focus. Let the Prana flow through you, and then channel it to sharpen your senses."

The students closed their eyes, their breaths syncing in a rhythm of unity. Master Zhang watched as their Prana flowed, their Ohm techniques flawless. Their focus was palpable.

"Now, allow your Prana to fuel your senses. Remember, all senses work in harmony, part of your awareness. Control them individually, but do not sever yourself from them."

Yuyan’s mind turned inward, her senses heightened. She felt the world around her—the birds, the trees, the wind. The scent of morning dew, the taste of the cool breeze—it overwhelmed her.

"Do not lose your focus," the master’s voice was a grounding force, steady as an oak. "Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly."

Yuyan inhaled deeply, the air filling her lungs, and exhaled, releasing tension.

"Focus on your sight. Take in everything without grasping too much at once."

Li Bie heeded the advice, seeing details with clarity: the blades of grass, leaves on trees, clouds in the sky, the cobblestones—they were as vivid as if his eyes were open.

"Use all your senses together," Master Zhang instructed. "They must work in tandem."

Gao focused on sounds—the whisper of the wind, rustling leaves, chirping birds—the cacophony of life, each sound distinct yet part of a whole.

"Marry your sense of smell and taste," the headmaster suggested.

Yi Ming’s nostrils flared, taking in the fresh aroma of morning dew and flowers. He could taste it, a sweet note on his tongue.

"Your Prana sharpens your senses, making you one with nature. Detect the energies around you."

Chen’s skin tingled with the sun’s warmth, the breeze’s caress, the air’s chill—a symphony of sensation.

"Now, focus all your senses on me."

Their combined focus was transformative. Master Zhang’s Prana emanated in waves, a soothing oceanic blue. It enveloped them, a comforting presence. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished into nothingness—a void that left them cold.

Their eyes flew open, and there he sat, unchanged, a sage’s smile on his lips.

"What happened, Master?" Yuyan’s curiosity broke the silence.

"As you sense my Prana, I can also conceal it. This is Yana, and mastering it will take time."

They were awestruck, their master’s true power a revelation.

"I have every faith in your success," Master Zhang’s confidence was unwavering.

"Thank you, Master," they bowed with reverence.

"Any questions?" his inquiry hung in the stillness.

Yuyan spoke, her voice a tremor of curiosity. "Master, how did Lingqi manifest his Prana externally? He dropped the temperature on his own."

Master Zhang’s nod was solemn. "Lingqi’s Prana is unique—volatile, powerful, and unstable. His path is different, shaped by pain."

Lingqi was indeed an anomaly, and he was careful about broaching the subject. Yet with events being as they were - the headmaster was left with no choice but to reveal the truth.

"Lingqi witnessed the death of his parents by the hands of the Khalkan raiders," the headmaster revealed solemnly.

The words hung heavy in the air. They had known as much, but for Master Zhang to confirm it left a bitter taste in their mouths.

"As you know, the meditation rituals involve centering oneself in order to channel one's Prana," the headmaster began. "Through meditation, one can achieve a state of inner peace. They release their emotions, their fear, and their anger. But Prana also responds to emotions of hurt, anger, hatred, and fear; such impassioned emotions can cause one’s Prana to manifest in destructive ways. That is why students are not encouraged to cultivate on their own, and why the Sovereignty instructs us to cultivate through the meditation rituals. The purpose of cultivation is for knowledge and enlightenment, not conflict."

"Why is he different from other orphans?" Li Bie's question was laden with confusion.

"Lingqi’s talent surpasses my own at his age," Master Zhang's admission was met with disbelief.

"Even more talented than you, Master?" Chen’s disbelief was palpable.

"Yes, but my perseverance made up for my lack of talent. Even my master told me as much..." his voice trailed off, a sorrowful smile touching his lips.

"What was your master like?" Yuyan's curiosity bridged the gap.

"Old," Master Zhang's answer was simple, yet profound.

After a moment, he returned to the matter at hand. "Do not seek to replicate Lingqi's methods. Cultivation through passion is a road to ruin."

The students understood, their goal clear: to help Lingqi, not emulate his pain.

"So, any other questions?" he asked, his tone inviting yet final.

The students shook their heads, the weight of their new knowledge settling.

"In that case, I shall leave you to your training. Come to me when you have mastered Yana," Master Zhang said, retreating back to the academy.

The group settled into a meditative stance in earnest - they were eager to master the new technique of Yana.

As they breathed in and out, their Prana flowed through them, and they became one with their surroundings. They were aware of everything: the wind, the trees, the sun, and even each other. The students honed their senses, perceiving the energies around them. For a moment, it was as if their minds had melded into one single consciousness.

Then, a veil of darkness crept into their vision, like a thick, black smog wrapping around their thoughts. Panic set in as the sensation overwhelmed them, blurring the line between open and closed eyes. The courtyard faded, replaced by an endless void that swallowed everything.

Suddenly, a figure appeared through obscurity, cloaked in earthly shadows and clad in a hooded robe. Its visage was veiled in black, and its features were indistinguishable.

The students recoiled in shock. Li Bie opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. Panic surged through him as he glanced at his friends, their faces mirrors of his own confusion and fear.

Chen stood in awe, his mouth agape. Was this real? Or an illusion?

Yi Ming stood to Chen's side, his visage wrought with fright. Yuyan mirrored the same expression, while Gao's mouth was covered in disbelief.

"Who... who are you?" Chen stammered, his voice barely a whisper. The silence that followed was oppressive, adding to the tension.

"Wh-Why... have you come here?" Yuyan added, her tone laced with uncertainty.

"It is time," the figure spoke, her words reverberating like an echo in their minds.

A flash of clarity illuminated Gao's face, and he took a step forward within the void, sizing up the phantom.

"Grandma...?"