Luther placed the case on the ground, opening it to reveal a set of sleek devices and gear. Aleara raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are we in for?"

Luther smirked. "Something new, something designed specifically for each of you. We're pushing your limits today."

Amy, standing quietly by the side, suddenly felt all eyes on her as Abigail approached her. "Amy, let's talk about your situation first."

Amy blinked, looking slightly nervous. "M-my situation?"

Abigail nodded. "Your father's made some arrangements. I've tailored a program for you." She gestured toward the metallic Yo-Yos that hung from Amy's belt. "Those Yo-Yos aren't just toys. They're weapons. Nanocarbon threads, forged in zero gravity, and incredibly dense under normal gravity. But more than that, your father has added features to them—ones you won't access until you've earned it."

Amy gulped, her fingers brushing the smooth surface of the Yo-Yos. "What kind of features?"

"That's for later," Abigail replied with a sly smile. "For now, I'm going to teach you how to control them. You'll learn how to use them for offense and defense. Think of them as an extension of your Anima."

Amy, though still a little apprehensive, gave a determined nod. She couldn't afford to fall behind. Not anymore.

Abigail turned to the rest of the group. "As for the rest of you, we're refining your abilities today. Beck, Aleara, Carmilla—Luther has something for each of you."

Luther pulled out different devices from the case and handed them to each individual, explaining their purpose as he went. As the group inspected their new gear, Zola leaned over to Kairo with a smirk. "Looks like we're going to be in for a long day."

Kairo gave a resigned sigh. "When is it ever not?"

As the training began, the tension slowly gave way to focus. Each person was determined to master the new tools they had been given. But in the back of everyone's mind, there was still that lingering sense of the unknown—an awareness that something was shifting beneath the surface.

For Amy, the weight of her Yo-Yos felt heavier than ever, not just physically but symbolically. She wasn't just fighting to control her powers—she was fighting to prove her place in this group. As her Yo-Yos spun in the air, she vowed silently to herself that she wouldn't be the weakest link anymore.

The training had been grueling, more so than any of them expected, and their frustrations were compounded when they got to the subject of Anima usage. Abigail, ever stern and direct, didn't hold back her assessment.

"You all suck at this," she said bluntly, pacing in front of the group. Her words, though harsh, were laced with the sharpness of truth. "And those names you've given your abilities? Completely useless. You're trying to force something that isn't there, like calling a shadow a mountain."

Beck scowled, crossing his arms, while Aleara remained quiet but attentive, taking in the words more seriously. Abigail was their grandmother after all, and though she didn't pull any punches, her experience commanded respect.

"You mean we need better names?" Amy asked hesitantly, clutching one of her special yo-yos.

Abigail stopped in front of her, looking at Amy with an intensity that could burn through steel. "Names are power, child. Naming something makes it tangible, brings it into existence, and shapes its potential. But it's not just about labeling an ability; it's about understanding what it represents, what it can become."

She moved to the center of the room, her gaze sweeping over all of them. "Anima, your soul's strength, is your existence manifest. When you bonded with the gods, you gained the ability to use that strength to alter Amrita—the substance of creation. But to wield that kind of power properly, you have to know what you're truly working with."

Beck's brow furrowed. "So the problem is the names we've given them don't reflect what they can actually do?"

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Abigail nodded. "Exactly. You're limiting yourselves. Each ability has the potential to be abstract, fluid, to have multiple possibilities. By giving it a straightforward name, you're confining it to one narrow interpretation."

Aleara, always the one who processed things deeply, spoke up. "So if we were to rename them, but in a way that reflects the broader concept, it would help us tap into more of the ability's potential?"

Abigail smiled approvingly. "Now you're thinking. When you name an ability, think of its core, its essence. Not just what it does, but what it represents in the world—how it shifts reality. Naming isn't just identification, it's creation. You are giving your abilities a form in the world, and that form can either be as limited or as expansive as your understanding."Victor, who had been silent throughout, finally chimed in. "What about the abilities themselves? The ones we've already created—are they too simple?"

"Most of them, yes," Abigail replied. "Because you focused on direct outcomes. This one burns, that one shields. Fine for the basics, but your power lies in abstraction, in manipulating the forces that exist between those points. It's like trying to paint with only primary colors when the whole spectrum is available."

She pointed to Beck. "Take yours. The ability you call 'Force Wall.' It's rigid, immovable, sure. But what if you saw it not as a wall but as a shift in momentum? A force that bends, flows, and redirects? Suddenly, it's not just a barrier—it's control over kinetic energy itself. Think of the possibilities."

Beck blinked, clearly rethinking his entire approach.

Aleara looked at her grandmother with newfound understanding. "So the name reflects that broader concept—the potential for something much bigger than we first imagined."Abigail nodded. "Exactly. You need to give your abilities names that encompass their true essence. The more abstract, the better, because the universe responds to the possibilities you see within yourself. When you truly understand what you're wielding, you'll be able to manipulate the world around you with far more finesse."

Amy nervously fiddled with her yo-yos. "And if we get it right?"

"You'll find your abilities far more responsive. You'll shape reality more fluidly and with less effort. The right name, the true name, can turn an ordinary ability into something extraordinary."

Abigail stepped back, folding her arms. "This isn't just about learning to fight. It's about understanding yourselves and the forces you command. Get the names right, and the power will follow."

Abigail turned her attention to Amy, who had been quietly observing the others as they discussed the power of names and their impact on abilities. Unlike Aleara and Beck, Amy wasn't bonded with a god, and her training focused on something far more tangible—technology.

"Amy, come over here," Abigail said, her voice softening just a bit.

Amy nervously approached, clutching her yo-yos. She was clearly out of place among the others, whose abilities derived from something far more arcane. But Abigail had a different plan for her.

"Your tools may not be tied to Anima and Amrita, but they can still be just as powerful in the right hands," Abigail explained, gesturing to the yo-yos. "These are not toys, Amy. They're precision instruments, capable of much more than you realize."

Amy nodded, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"The nanocarbon thread gives you incredible control over trajectory and force. And because these yo-yos are made from an alloy forged in zero gravity, they behave differently under the weight of Earth's gravity—dense, fast, and unpredictable to an enemy who isn't prepared."

Abigail took one of the yo-yos from Amy and deftly threw it forward. The weapon shot out like a bullet, slicing through the air before recoiling back to her hand.

"But it's not just about how hard you can hit or how fast you can retrieve them. The real strength of your tools lies in how you manipulate them—using angles, tension, and strategy to confound your opponent."

Amy watched, her nerves slowly fading as she saw the potential in her own tools."You're going to focus on using these in ways that exploit your opponents' weaknesses. We'll work on precision attacks, quick defenses, and utilizing the environment to your advantage."

Abigail turned to the others as well, her tone taking on an instructional quality. "While Amy's training is different, it should serve as a reminder to you all. Power isn't always about brute force. Sometimes, it's about finesse. And the more abstract your thinking, the more you can get from any tool or ability."

Amy blushed a little as the others glanced her way. Though she wasn't bonded with a god, there was no question that Abigail expected just as much from her. In fact, Amy realized, maybe her father's belief in technology over divine powers wasn't as limiting as she had thought.

"Let's start, Amy," Abigail said, handing her back the yo-yo. "Today, we're focusing on control. I want you to hit that target from ten different angles in under ten seconds. And by the time we're done, you'll probably be faster than everyone here."

Amy took a deep breath, her confidence bolstered by Abigail's words. She flicked her wrist, sending one of the yo-yos soaring toward the target. This was going to be a long day, but for the first time, Amy felt like she truly belonged in this group.

After a while, the training ended with everyone still coming to terms with what had transpired in the training and everything that Abigail had told them, Luther had stayed to watch the whole thing.