Keet Shakti Academy

The morning sun pierced through the thick clouds, casting a golden hue across the academy grounds. Armaan, feeling the weight of the previous day's lessons and frustrations, stood at the entrance of the training field. His body ached from yesterday's grueling exercises, but there was no turning back now.

Today was the day that Dhruv had promised to teach him the next step: controlling his body and mind.

A Grueling Start

Armaan stood with his feet planted firmly on the ground, the tips of his shoes slightly digging into the soft earth. Dhruv, as usual, had appeared out of nowhere, sitting cross-legged on a nearby rock, sipping from his gourd like it was a casual day at the park.

"Balance," Dhruv said without looking up. "Balance is key. You can't control anything until you've learned to control yourself."

Armaan's face scrunched up in confusion. "Balance? But I thought we were supposed to focus on fighting."

Dhruv chuckled darkly. "Fighting? You think this is just about fighting? You can't fight anything if you're out of control. First, learn to balance yourself. Then, everything else will follow."

Armaan sighed, still unsure of the importance of this exercise. But he trusted Dhruv—this mad, unpredictable teacher had been right before. So he tried to do as told, shifting his weight onto one leg, keeping his hands out for balance.

The first few minutes were easy, but as time passed, his leg began to shake. His body wanted to collapse under its own weight, and the frustration began to bubble up inside him.

"This is pointless," Armaan muttered, his breath quickening. "I'm never going to get this."

Dhruv's voice cut through the air like a whip. "You'll never get it if you quit. Get up."

Armaan's teeth clenched, and he forced himself to stay steady. His eyes shut tight, blocking out the surrounding world. He thought of the battles he'd been through—the humiliation, the doubt, the people who called him weak.

"I can't quit," he whispered to himself, his breath steadying. "I won't."

The Growing Focus

Hours passed, and Armaan felt his legs burning from the strain. Sweat poured down his back, but Dhruv never offered him a break. The older man's disinterested gaze remained fixed on the horizon, but every once in a while, his voice would pierce the silence.

"Focus," Dhruv said. "If you're going to be anything more than what you are now, you need to feel the world around you. The weight, the wind, the vibrations. The earth beneath your feet isn't just ground. It's an extension of your power. The trees, the wind, they're all part of you. Control them."

Armaan clenched his jaw. "I don't understand."

"You will," Dhruv answered. "Feel your surroundings. Right now, you're not controlling the balance. The balance is controlling you. Stand still. Become the center of it all."

A Change in Perspective

The sun was beginning to set, and exhaustion was clouding Armaan's mind, but he stood tall, unwilling to give up. He had never been more aware of the way the ground beneath his feet felt, the way the wind blew around him, or the way his body's every small twitch affected his balance. He focused so deeply that, for a moment, the world seemed to fade away.

His breathing slowed, and a strange calm washed over him. His body was still burning with fatigue, but there was something different now. Something inside of him clicked.

"I'm not just standing here," Armaan muttered under his breath. "I'm… controlling this."

Suddenly, the world around him seemed sharper. The rustling leaves, the distant sounds of birds calling—it all felt like a part of him. And then, without warning, his foot slipped.

He gasped, reaching out, his body reacting faster than his mind could keep up. But just as quickly, his instincts kicked in. He regained his balance, his muscles moving with an unnatural fluidity, like his body had grown used to the effort.

Dhruv raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. "Not bad, kid. You're learning."

Armaan stood there, panting. He hadn't realized it, but he had begun to control the way his body moved. He had learned to move with the environment, rather than against it.

The First Step Toward Mastery

As the days wore on, Armaan found himself spending more time with Dhruv, his body and mind slowly but surely being shaped into something more than he had ever imagined. He learned the art of timing, the importance of patience, and the necessity of endurance. Dhruv pushed him to the brink—making him do push-ups with weighted chains, run with a log on his back, and practice his stances for hours. But all the while, Armaan's focus grew sharper.

His body wasn't the only thing that had changed. His mind had become more disciplined. He could see things before they happened, anticipate his opponents' moves, and outthink them at every turn.

A Conversation with Rai

One evening, after another exhausting day of training, Armaan was walking back to his dorm when he bumped into Rai. His friend looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Training again?" Rai asked, his usual nonchalant expression betraying his interest. "How's it going?"

Armaan sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "It's tough, man. I don't even know if I'm getting any stronger. But I can feel it. Something's changing inside me."

Rai chuckled. "You've been at this for days now. I've never seen you so serious. You really think you can catch up to us?"

Armaan hesitated for a moment before answering. "I have to. I can't keep being the weak link. Not if I want to be something more than I am now."

Rai's expression softened, and he put a hand on Armaan's shoulder. "You're not weak, Armaan. You've got a lot more potential than you realize. Just don't forget—this isn't a race. We all have our own path to follow."

Armaan smiled faintly. "Yeah. Thanks, Rai."

The Gift of Cigarettes

The next evening, after another day of grueling training, Dhruv pulled Armaan aside. Without saying a word, he handed him the pouch of cigarettes that had been sitting in Armaan's bag for days.

"What's this?" Armaan asked, confused.

Dhruv smirked, his eyes cold and calculating. "Time to unlock what's been inside you all along."

Armaan stared at the pouch. He hadn't asked Dhruv what they were, but something about the way Dhruv had handed it to him made it clear that this was no ordinary gift.

"Take them," Dhruv urged. "When you're ready."

Armaan didn't hesitate. He took the pouch, his heart beating faster. He knew something was about to change. Something big.