I began limiting myself.
Not publicly. Not dramatically. Just enough to test a theory that had taken shape without my permission.
During training exercises, I stopped ending fights in a single exchange. I allowed resistance to form before responding. Let mana circulate longer than necessary. Let techniques grind instead of settling cleanly into place.
The results were… uncomfortable.
Not painful. Not dangerous.
Just inefficient.
My timing slipped by fractions. My breathing changed. Sweat formed where it never had before. The system adjusted projections downward, recalculating efficiency with silent disapproval.
I ignored it.
Others noticed.
"You're holding back," Rhea said during a sparring session, lowering her guard when I failed to press an opening. "Did something happen?"
"No."
She didn't look convinced. "You don't miss openings."
"I chose not to take it."
She studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. "That's new."
Across the field, Elian watched without comment.
That evening, the academy released a minor bulletin.
Regional threat indicators show stabilization.No abnormal surges detected in the western passes.
It was the first such notice in weeks.
Correlation wasn't causation.
But the timing was precise enough to unsettle me.