Rachel Vasiline Voss watched her adversary from a measured distance, in this time, in this place, in the country currently as it was based on sheet individual strength she was unmatched, and still it'd changed nothing, her son remained at the mercy of the schemer before her,

"I should cut you down where you stand" she sneers,

"Come now darling, i remember the love of my life being far more graceful than this" the man mocked,

"The rules of the accords that bind us weaken, in time they shackles will! Fall away" a bald white bearded man in monk robes spoke, Jay's master, he stood to Rachel's side, both united in belief, united in their cause, united in their desired outcome

"When it does, my sword will! Find your heart Cebasa" Rachel declares,

"May the best man win" he muses.

Yanick stares into the eyes of the man opposite him, his training complete, his master wearing a proud smile, the short dark dominican man nodded while surveying his student. Yanick stands six feet and two, muscles to a humans limit, around him 'Force' turned gas while whirling winds of 'Force' danced around him, a pseudo Domain, ATTUNEMENT, characterized by his inability to change the laws held within, only through attainment of Zone could one exercise their Domain as an extension of the control they had over their flesh and bones. In Yanicks grip is an amalgamation of 'Force' conceptualised, a tree pronged trident, but oddly enough an odd conceptualisation of what seemed to be a talking drum at the weapons upper hilt just below the index blade, the weapon one any other would recognize, the Conceptualisation of the hold Hindu weapon wielded by perhaps the greatest hindu warrior to ever live, the man touted as the God of distruction, SHIVA!, The weapon i question?, TRISHULA!,

"You're ready kid, from here you're on your own" his master states,

"Teacher..." Yanick began, the man interjects with a dismissive wave, in the grasp of his fist is a the physical trident,

(His steady practice with the trident and absorption of it's 'Force' through my aid has facilitated his growth, now he must succeed in subduing it's ego or be subdued) the man ponders as he watches intently, Yanicks takes hold of the spear, his grip on the spear tightened as he sinks into the depts of his consiousness.

Before him is the Trishula, magnificent, aware, but not sentient, the 'Force' within the weapon flared into life, like a wave of tidal flows, a tsunami's rush, Yanick's 'Force' flared into life in response, gis pseudo Domain's clash with the divine weapons a sight to behold, His master watches leaisurely, pondering, his Stage one domain isolated the two from any outside intrusion,

(Which will it be kid, Domination for either you or the weapon or symbiosis?) He ponders as he watches, Yanick, a heat Shifter, one holding an ideal of pure righteous conviction was already half way to the giving destination, he would not seek domination over the weapon, he lacked both the strength to do so and found it abhorrent such as the weapon held awareness, neighter would he tolerate the weapon to dominate over him in spite of his desire for power, the answer, Symbiosis, the weapon approved of him as host, he approved of the weapons will to stay true to it's first wielder's ethos. 'Force' congealed within him stagnant in his body till he found advancement to ZONE, on his skin a dull translucent imprint resembling a long vertical stroke on the left of his chiselled back, Yanick spins the spear with inexplicable expertise,

(The first wielders knowledge, mastery, emotions, feelings, and essence, with domination he could chose which he would want to accept, but with Symbiosis he's subject to all these influences, it's up to you to sort through all these and retain your existence kid, such is the tribulation which awaits those who take this path.

Seconds, minutes, hours then days, Yanick's eyes flutter open, his aura similar yet different,

(I see) his teacher ponders, it is time,

"Show me kid, show me what you've learnt!" The man grins, Yanick nods,

"Yes teacher!" He stretches wide, the conceptualisation of TRISHULA forms,

"COME!" He commands, the spear morphs through the 'WAY', becoming physical, without delay he ignites his pseudo Domain, pumping every ounce of 'Force' in his veins, he takes the standard muai thai form while holding his spear out to the side, the head aimed to the ground,

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"SHOW ME!" His teacher bellows, Yanick strikes!

Another day, another round of cleaning, another shattered bolder, another round of meditation, another round of circulation, over and over and over again, driven to the point of insanity, driven beyond insanity, Jay's fist found the boulders center, the force of his blow shattering the fourteen feet height and similarly wide boulder, despite his masters absence he could here the mans mocking tone as he slipped leaisurely on his wine,

(AGAIN!), Moves to the next, despite being short of breath he did it again,

(AGAIN!), Another fist found another boulders center,

(AGAIN!, what kind of monk even drinks wine?) He wondered,

(AGAIN!, i miss Maya, i wonder how she is) he ponders, "the bastard took my phone" he mutters

"Really, he did that?" A voice questions from beside him,

"Yeah..." Jay drones carrying out his form training in mechanical fashion, " he's a fu..." Jay pauses realising eventually that no reply to his earlier rambling was the proper reply. He turns sharply as fast as his weary body and mind would let him to see his teacher, the bald heavily bearded man in white taoist robes and an orange sash, in his hand is a glass cup full of what Kay believes to be wine while he strokes his beard leaisurely,

"Go on" he states, "you were going to say something" he states with obvious amusement,

"N... n...nothing of importance master" Jay smiles awkwardly,

"Really?, Very well then you may proceed would five hundred wall kicks" the old man smiles,

"What?, Okay..." He drones before pausing due to a momentary realisation, "wait, that wasn't part if the training plan for today!" He exclaims,

"Ah i recall you also have on hundred mountain runs left" the man smiles illustrating a running man with his fingers while shooting him a amicable smile, Jay grinds his teeth against each other as veins bulge in anger,

"This..." He begins before choking down his statement, seventy five hours on and he'd had no rest, Jay proceeded to the last of the boulder strike before moving to the shallow mountain side where he began a combination strike transitioning from a knee strike to a kick,

"REDO!" His master states while watching leaisurely, the wine cup hand at some point been replaced with a traditional drinking gourd,

"Old bastard!" Jay mumbles illegibly,

"It seems you also have ten hours of suspension practice left" he states before chugging a mouth full of white wine from the fruit gourd,

(Wait is this bastard wearing a fucking...) Jay pondered watching in astonishment, his 'Master' or rather 'Old Bastard' as Jay preferred to address him wore black sunglasses with a smart phone displaying a movie while he now sucked the wine through a straw,

"Why'd you stop?" The old man turned to him and questioned with all seriousness, "is the training not enough?" He inquires, Jay swallows hard through his parched throat,

"Yes, yes it is" he sighs in reply turning away as he drowns away his exhaustion with the repetitive and robotic execution of his assigned tasks.

James heaves in exhaustion, his legs quake, his breaths ragged, his grip weakened, the only thing keeping him standing his single desire for strength, the events of Belgrade would not be repeated, the event's of Novy prague would not be repeated,

(next time, next time will be different), he stomped his left into the concrete floor shattering it as splinters flew, he empowers his Combination technique, Enforcer and Striker, he ignites it through his bones risking bodily ruin, his bones vibrated at a sickening pace, his brain rattled continuously like a ball caught in a mixer, is heart seizes going into shock, is organs weaken to failure and yet through force of will he carries on, unrelenting, an explosion of 'Force' ensues, his presence fades, he seems to teleport a five meters left his knee connecting with the diamond wall with a sickening explosion, the force of the blow more than what had previously possible, his polarized bones allowing for rapid and nigh impossible maneuvers in the shortest of times, he'd just advancement, his understanding and application of his 'Force' art evolved,

"Next time will be different" James mutters as he carries on with his sickening training.

Watching him Jeremy Young purses his lips,

"How long has he been at this" he questions as he watches his son through the live feed,

"Several days sir" Roger replies,

"Very well then, i have seen an acknowledged his conviction, it would seem my little boy is finally growing up isn't it?" He grins, "call 'Him' up" he declared, "isn't anything worth doing worth doing well?"