Anshul sat on the worn-out couch in Ron's modest living room, contemplating the offer Ron had proposed. The dim light from the lone bulb overhead cast long shadows, adding an air of mystery to the room. Ron sat across from him, his presence calming yet authoritative.

"Why?" Anshul blurted out. He couldn't fathom why a stranger would extend such a generous offer, especially after the trouble he had caused.

Ron leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on Anshul with unwavering intensity. "Because I perceive a quality within you that perhaps you haven't recognized in yourself yet," he said, his voice low and steady. "With my guidance, you can learn to harness your abilities and use them to their potential. Plus, I will help you with your 'dying problem'."

Anshul shifted uncomfortably, his mind racing with doubts and questions. Could he trust Ron? What if this was all some elaborate ruse? Couldn’t I just learn by myself? Do I really need someone to teach me? And most importantly, can he really help me with my 'dying problem'? But deep down, he knew that with someone's help he could increase his chances of surviving.

After a moment of tense silence, Anshul nodded. "Okay, I'll do it."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Ron's lips, a glimmer of satisfaction shining in his eyes. "Good choice," he said.

"But I need some answers. Who were those people? What are these powers? More importantly, who are you?" Anshul asked.

"If I told you everything now, you would wet your pants and run away. Your questions will only be answered when the time is right," Ron said, his voice tinged with seriousness. "But for now, you need rest. We'll begin your training tomorrow."

Anshul retreated to the spare room that Ron had graciously offered him for the night, his mind buzzing with anticipation and uncertainty. He lay in bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling, unable to shake the feeling that his life was about to change forever.

{Today was something else. Oh right, I almost forgot to tell you.}

"What?"

{After the fight, I was so tired that I was unable to speak. Even now, I have to pull a lot of strength to just talk to you.}

"Oh, that's why you were quieter than ever. Finally, I will be free from your nonsense."

{Don't get your hopes up just yet. I have a hunch if I take rest, I will be able to regain my energy.}

"Shit."

{Now go to sleep, sweetie.}

Anshul rubbed his hands to shake off the chills he felt.

The next morning, Anshul found a note slipped under his door. "Come to the basement," it read.

Curiosity piqued, Anshul made his way downstairs, the wooden steps creaking beneath his weight. The basement was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of dampness and dust. Ron was waiting for him in the center of the room, his posture relaxed yet alert.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"How much do you know about your power?" Ron asked as Anshul approached, his voice echoing off the concrete walls.

"Sorry? Didn't you tell me that you would teach me?"

"Yes, I will teach you, but first I need to know how much you already know."

Anshul recounted everything he knew, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement and apprehension. He told Ron everything he had read in the document from his father's lab. As he spoke, he remembered the dream he had after the fight. "Now that I think about it, these powers only work sometimes."

"Like how? Care to elaborate?" Ron inquired.

"As I was saying, the powers only work sometimes. For instance, the healing power didn't work the whole time during the fight, but now I am fully healed as if I was never injured," Anshul explained, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I can only use the Power Punch when I'm in a rage."

Throughout the conversation, Ron's expression remained unchanged, his features reflecting a stoic calmness even in the face of Anshul's revelations.

"Since you already know the important part, I'll brief you with the basics," Ron began. "Your speculation is right; your power is indeed linked to your emotions. To be more exact, the more you relax, the more you heal, and the same goes for your strength. The stronger your emotions are, the stronger your power will be. As long as you can control your emotions, you can grow stronger."

After saying this, Ron looked at Anshul's face, hoping to see some excitement, but the boy didn't show any hint of joy. Instead, he looked unhappy and unsatisfied. Seeing this, Ron asked, "Is something wrong? You look unsatisfied."

"No, it's just... How is getting stronger going to help me with my 'dying problem'? Isn't VB going to kill me slowly?" he asked.

"That's the point. It will be 'slowly', but those guys will kill you first."

"Who? Didn't you say you killed those guys?"

"Those were just goons, the bottom of the real threat. And so, those threats will still be after your life."

"Why?"

"Most probably because you are alive."

"Still, why?"

"Enough with the questions. Let's just focus on your training."

"What? No, first answer me."

"No. Oh, I know. How about this: whenever you complete a training session, you can ask me anything. How does that sound? Do you feel like training now?"

"..."

"Just sit down."

Hearing that he had no other choice, Anshul sat cross-legged on the floor and asked, "How do we begin?"

Ron's eyes sparkled with determination, his gaze unwavering. "We'll split your mind into two," he said, his tone firm yet reassuring.

"You're joking?"

"No."

"..."

"You look scared. Oh, you thought I meant literally split it. No, no. I was talking about splitting your mind, not your brain."

"And why would we do that?"

"So that you can heal while fighting. One side will focus on controlling your healing abilities, while the other will harness your strength. It won't be easy, but I believe you're up for the challenge."

"..."

Should I run away? No, I should trust him. But can I trust him? Anshul thought.

"We'll start with one thing at a time," Ron said, his voice a steady anchor in the swirling sea of Anshul's thoughts. "Learning to calm your mind will be the key to unlocking your healing abilities. Start with meditation and healing your wounds."

"But I'm not injured anymore."

"Oh, that's right. Let me help you."

As Anshul heard this, he got a bad feeling about it and tried to ask how, but it was too late. Ron took out a knife from his pocket and stabbed Anshul in the shoulder.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Anshul screamed.

"Don't be a kid, it's just a scratch. Try healing it," said Ron.

Anshul clenched his teeth and angrily nodded. He started to remember how the boy in his dream had healed himself. Anshul closed his eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of his breath. With each inhale and exhale, he felt a sense of peace and a sense of fatigue wash over him at the same time. Anshul felt the pain slowly fade, and his wound began to heal.

But just as he was about to close his wound completely, a wave of pain struck his other shoulder, making his eyes snap open.

"Ahh! Why?" Anshul asked as he saw his other shoulder stabbed.

"Focus," Ron said in a serious tone.