Lightning Through Wind / Dimensional Shift

The steel door groaned open, spilling out a gust of cold, dry air. Jiho stepped forward cautiously, every sense on edge. The room inside was vast, circular, the floor polished stone marked with glowing lines that formed strange geometric patterns. At the far end stood the dummy—if you could even call it that.

It was tall, humanoid in shape, its body carved from reinforced alloy. Its eyes glowed with pale blue light, and faint arcs of static danced across its metallic arms. From its back, vents hissed, releasing bursts of air that swirled into miniature whirlwinds.

Jiho blinked twice. “Bruh… that thing looks like it could fold me in half.”

Kaname’s tone was flat, almost cold. “This construct is designed to replicate mid-tier Vector combat. Wind manipulation, lightning output. If you can’t survive this, you won’t survive anything out there.”

Jiho’s throat went dry. His fists clenched instinctively. “So… no pressure, huh?”

“Begin,” Kaname said simply.

The dummy came alive with a sudden surge, its body jerking forward with a burst of wind. Jiho barely raised his arms in time as the construct’s fist, wreathed in lightning, crashed into him. The shockwave threw him across the floor, sparks biting into his skin. He hit the ground hard, air knocked from his lungs.

“Damn… that hurt,” he gasped, staggering to his feet.

The dummy didn’t pause. It swept its arm forward, a blade of compressed wind slicing through the air. Jiho dove aside, the attack carving a deep gash into the stone where he had stood a moment before.

Phase One: Overconfidence Crushed

Jiho charged in, swinging his fist with everything he had. The dummy barely budged. A counterstrike slammed into his gut, lightning searing through him, dropping him to his knees. He coughed, clutching his stomach.

I can’t even scratch it… am I seriously this weak?

Another wind strike hurled him against the wall. His vision blurred. His body screamed. The training he’d done, the weight he’d lost—it felt like nothing here.

“Stand up, Jiho,” Kaname’s voice echoed across the chamber, steady and calm.

Jiho wiped blood from his lip. His legs trembled, but he pushed up anyway. “Bruh… fine. Round two.”

Phase Two: The Struggle

The dummy’s speed increased, its movements sharper, every strike accompanied by bursts of wind or crackles of lightning. Jiho tried dodging, but his reflexes weren’t enough. A bolt grazed his shoulder, sending searing pain through his arm. His breaths came ragged, his heart hammering against his ribs.

I’m gonna die here… again useless… again nothing.

A memory flashed unbidden—his father’s cold laughter, the moment he was abandoned. The weight of all those years pressed down on him. His body sagged.

The dummy raised its arm, lightning coalescing into a deadly spear of energy. It hurled it straight at Jiho’s chest.

Phase Three: The Awakening of Double Tap

Jiho’s instincts screamed. His body moved before his mind caught up. A flicker of energy erupted around him—a faint, glass-like barrier, shimmering blue, forming just as the lightning spear struck.

CRACK!

The spear shattered against the shield, exploding into sparks. Jiho staggered back, eyes wide.

“What… what was that?!”

Kaname’s calm cracked for the first time, his eyes narrowing. “Impossible… he activated a defensive skill… instinctively.”

Jiho stared at his trembling hands, the faint blue glow fading. Double Tap…?

But the dummy didn’t care. It powered up again, vents blasting open, lightning crawling across its body.

Phase Four: Near-Death Push

Jiho barely had time to breathe. The construct launched a relentless assault, faster than before, its strikes tearing the air apart. Jiho’s shield didn’t trigger again. Every dodge felt slower. His lungs burned. A wind blade cut his leg, blood dripping down his shin.

He collapsed to one knee, chest heaving. This is it… I can’t keep up…

The dummy raised its arms, lightning swirling into a massive orb above its head. The air vibrated, humming with power. Jiho looked up, frozen, as death approached.

And then—

Flashback: His Father’s Reflex

His vision blurred, replaced by an image. A man, broad-shouldered, face hard as stone—his father. The memory wasn’t clear, but Jiho felt it: the weight of muscle memory, the reflexes carved into his blood. Words whispered, though no mouth moved:

“Don’t resist the world. Shift with it.”

Jiho’s heart skipped. His body felt… different. The air around him grew thin, friction peeling away.

Phase Five: Dimensional Shift: Blue

The orb of lightning fell—yet to Jiho, it moved like molasses. The arcs bent, slowed, as if reality itself gave way. Jiho stepped forward, his body gliding weightlessly, friction erased. His fists clenched, his eyes blazing.

With a roar, he struck.

CRASH!

His fist connected with the dummy’s chest, the impact tearing through its alloy frame. Wind froze mid-motion, lightning fizzled out, reality snapping back in an instant. The dummy staggered, then collapsed, its systems shutting down with a hiss.

Jiho stood there, chest heaving, his body trembling. The glow around him faded, but the memory of that impossible moment lingered.

Kaname stepped forward, arms crossed, his voice calm but heavy. “Dimensional Shift… Blue.” His eyes narrowed. “Impressive. But uncontrolled. You’ll die if you rely on it without mastery.”

Yumi, who had been watching from the observation glass, pressed her hands to her lips, her eyes wide in shock. “That… that was reality bending…”

Kaname’s gaze stayed on Jiho, sharp as a blade. “You’ve shown potential. But potential means nothing without discipline. Prepare yourself, Jiho. The real training begins now.”

Jiho collapsed to his knees, every nerve screaming, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. For the first time, he wasn’t useless.

He had shifted reality itself.