Dawn had just risen on the horizon, casting golden light on the buildings and paths that lined the park. The sea waves slowly and rhythmically broke the surface of the beach, like a deep breath that mixed with the fresh morning air. Shirei was sitting on the roof of his house and watched the landscape lighten up with a blank look. He would have to go back inside soon, after all the warm sunlight on his skin didn't make him crazy.

Time seemed to have distorted since he arrived. In the midst of everything that had happened, the episode of Tefine's son, Aena, the ambush in the Underworld, there was also what had happened at the canteen.

Shirei closed his eyes and tried to distance himself from those events. He couldn't deny that him and Ien's daughter were becoming increasingly closer, but he feared that this relationship wouldn't benefit either of them.

He had a rather clear task: train to become more powerful. Marina was a hindrance to his goal and a rather large distraction. The lonely demigod, nevertheless, did not regret spending time with her.

He preferred her company to the usual solitude he was used to and he still didn't understand why.

Enough… I have to focus on other problems.

Every time he entered the Underworld, something seemed to beckon him, but he had no control over it. The last time, when he almost lost his life during the sudden fight, he understood that the risk was real. He could no longer afford to be weak or have unstable power.

Cragar had told him clearly.

“There will be times when your power will be needed, and you will have to be ready.”

Those words echoed in his head. Despite his apparent disinterest and air of a dark king, Cragar had said everything with no doubt in his voice, as if he knew Shirei would find a way. That was the past, but, in the present of the silent morning, with the cold wind caressing his face, Shirei was sure he didn't have the answers he needed.

He stood up with a deep breath, it was time to get to work.

He placed the letter received from Lyceum D'Agostini in his pocket, where it was reported that he would have to attend Marina's lesson that Friday. Once again they would be together, but he would only think about it in a couple of days. Until Friday, there would be no distraction, no coach or teammate to watch his progress.

It was just him and himself.

Shirei returned to the secluded area, the small clearing at the edge of the camp, which he had previously used to train away from the other demigods. The area was perfect: solitary, undisturbed, a place where he could push his body to its limits without worrying about being interrupted or judged.

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He took a moment to survey the place, his mind already focused on the task ahead. He had to be able to maintain the spectral form of his new technique for longer, control the flow between the physical world and that of the Interworld, and do so without losing his form. The night before, in the canteen, he had only showed the potential of his new power, but it was enough for him to understand that he still had to master that ability.

I have to be able to increase the time, he whispered to himself, almost as if it was a prayer.

No one was there to listen to him, but perhaps hearing his own voice would help him put his thoughts in order.

The first attempt wasn't difficult. Shirei had now understood how to go from the physical to the ghostly state.

The world around him began to fade.

His body became less solid, like a flame swaying in the wind. A cold sensation enveloped him, as if every fiber of his being was crossed by an unnatural chill. He could feel the ground beneath him, but somehow it seemed distant, unreachable.

He lingered on the beat of his body and let himself slip into the Interworld, until a second beat overwrote the order and made him ethereal through a wave of whitish mana.

It felt right, he thought, trying to stay focused.

His physical body began to lose cohesion, forcing him to cancel the technique and try again.

If functioning is based on my heart rate, I have to try to decrease it.

He concentrated and reactivated the technique, trying to stay straight for as long as possible. But after a few seconds, the cold became unbearable. It was as if a cutting wind was trying to shatter his spirit.

The transition was sudden. Shirei felt a sharp pain in his chest, a brutal call that tore him from his ghostly form, abruptly turning him solid again. He fell to the ground, his muscles tense and his hands digging into the ground. His heart was pounding and he felt sweat running down his back.

He lay there, panting, for several minutes, trying to recover from his fatigue. He realized that being able to maintain the ghostly form for any longer was too tiring. There was a sort of limit represented by his own mortal body.

Every time he tried to cross the line, something pulled him back: his “humanity”. His powers were like a double-edged sword: fascinating and scary at the same time, but without control, he was useless.

Cragar's son stood there for a while, watching the horizon, his mind wandering through recent memories. He thought of Marina and Dalia. They had both been kind to him, and somehow, he felt they were trying to understand him.

Maybe he should have talked to them about it.

Perhaps Marina, with her intelligence, could help him find the balance he was missing. Or not, perhaps it was a journey he had to face alone.

Finally, he stood up again, shaking the thoughts away along with the dirt. The day wasn't over yet, and there was still a lot to do. He began preparations for the next attempt.

After several hours, something inside him clicked.

Shirei was finally starting to notice the first signs of improvement. It wasn't immediate, it wasn't perfect, but with each passage between the Otherworld and the Interworld, the cold that enveloped him seemed less relentless, and the fatigue began to diminish. Despite everything, however, the sense of oppression never completely abandoned him. That technique had to become a resource to be used instinctively to protect oneself, so it had to improve further.

In the distance, clouds began to gather, dark and threatening, almost reflecting his state of mind. It was a relatively calm day, but Shirei knew it was time to do more. He had to test his new control and understand if he was capable of using it even in fights. He needed a concrete challenge, and to do so, he knew exactly what he had to do.

He had his tenebrae.