Ethan could feel it.
Not as pressure.
Not as pain.
But as something else.
Something quiet.
Something constant.
It moved across his skin like invisible air, faint but undeniable. When he breathed, it moved with him. When he stood still, it remained.
It was part of him now.
Nen.
The word no longer felt foreign.
The door opened behind him.
He didn't turn immediately.
He didn't need to.
He had already sensed the presence.
Not through sound.
Through feeling.
The man entered the room once more, his footsteps calm and unhurried.
"You're still standing," he said.
Ethan turned.
The unconscious children were already gone. Removed without sound. Without acknowledgment. Without value.
Only Ethan remained.
The man stopped in front of him.
"What you feel now is unstable," he said. "Your nodes have been forced open. Your aura is leaking."
Ethan didn't respond.
But he listened.
"If you do nothing, it will drain you," the man continued. "Your body will weaken. Your mind will slow. Eventually, you will die."
He spoke the words without threat.
Without warning.
Just fact.
"Your first lesson," the man said, "is Ten."
He stepped closer.
"Contain it."
He didn't explain further.
He didn't demonstrate.
He simply watched.
Ethan stood still.
He could feel the energy around him now, faint but constant, escaping him without permission. It flowed outward like heat from skin.
Leaking.
Wasted.
He remembered.
Not from here.
From before.
Ten was containment.
Holding the aura close to the body.
Not forcing it.
Not pushing it.
Keeping it.
He closed his eyes.
Not completely.
Just enough.
He focused on the feeling.
Not the pressure from before.
But the absence of it.
The flow.
The escape.
He imagined it stopping.
Not suddenly.
Gradually.
Returning.
Settling.
His breathing slowed.
His body relaxed.
The aura didn't disappear.
But it stopped escaping so freely.
It stayed closer.
Tighter.
Controlled.
The man watched carefully.
"You understand faster than the others," he said quietly.
Not praise.
Observation.
Ethan opened his eyes.
The world looked the same.
But it felt clearer.
Sharper.
More real.
"This is Ten," the man said. "The foundation of survival."
He turned slightly.
"Without it, you will die."
He paused.
"With it, you may live long enough to learn the rest."
He began walking toward the door.
"From this point forward," he said, "you are no longer a candidate."
He stopped.
"You are a user."
The door opened.
He left.
Ethan remained alone.
But not the same.
He could feel it now.
His aura.
His Nen.
His control.
Small.
Incomplete.
But real.
And for the first time since his arrival in this world—
He wasn't powerless anymore.