The Author's Draft

Chapter 101 - 20: First Lessons II

They drilled twenty times, Aiden gradually increasing speed and power as Callum’s confidence grew. By the end his brother was managing proper deflections, footwork carrying him out of danger while his weapon guided incoming strikes away.

"That’s enough." Aiden lowered his broom handle. "You did well."

Callum dropped his weapon and bent over, hands on knees, gulping air. "I feel like I’m dying."

"You’ll feel worse tomorrow when the soreness sets in." Aiden gathered the practice weapons. "Come on. Let’s get inside."

Their mother took one look at them and immediately started fussing, pulling them inside and practically shoving them toward the bathroom to wash up. "You’re both completely soaked," she said, her voice hovering somewhere between worried and exasperated. "Get cleaned up before you catch pneumonia."

Aiden let Callum shower first while he sat at the kitchen table and drank tea that was too hot and too sweet but exactly what his body needed. His phone sat beside him, the Chairman’s message still waiting with coordinates for tonight’s equipment collection. The countdown in his vision showed twenty-nine hours and change remaining, which meant he had a few hours to rest and eat before heading out.

When Callum emerged from the bathroom looking significantly more human, Aiden took his turn under the hot water and let it wash away the sweat and grime of the day’s training. His muscles protested the movement but the heat helped loosen them up, and by the time he finished he felt almost functional again.

Their mother had prepared an early dinner, simple food that was heavy on carbohydrates and protein because she understood without being told that they needed fuel. They ate together at the small kitchen table while the TV continued its endless news cycle in the background, none of them really watching but unable to turn it off either.

"I need to go out tonight," Aiden said eventually, setting down his fork. "The Association’s got equipment set aside for me. Weapons and armor. I’ll bring back gear for Callum too."

His mother’s expression tightened but she nodded. "How long will you be gone?"

"Few hours, probably. The location’s south of the river, so it’ll take time to get there and back." He looked at Callum. "You should rest while I’m gone. Get proper sleep, not just lying in bed staring at the ceiling."

"I can come with you," Callum offered, though he didn’t sound enthusiastic about the idea.

"No," Aiden said firmly. "I need you here with Mum. And besides, you’re exhausted. Sleep is training too."

Callum looked like he might argue, then seemed to realize how tired he actually was and nodded instead. "Alright. But you’re coming back, right? Not going to do anything stupid?"

"Just picking up equipment," Aiden assured him. "Nothing dangerous. I’ll be back before you wake up."

His mother reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "Promise?"

"Promise," Aiden said, squeezing back.

They finished dinner in relative quiet, then his mother cleared the plates while Callum retreated to the bedroom to lie down. Aiden could hear his brother’s breathing even out within minutes, exhaustion pulling him under faster than he probably realized.

Aiden checked his phone for the time. Just past eight in the evening, which meant he had a few hours before the collection window. He spent the time organizing his supplies and double-checking that he had everything he needed, then sat on the sofa and tried to rest without actually sleeping.

[29:15:33... 29:15:32... 29:15:31...]

Twenty-nine hours remaining when he finally stood and pulled on his jacket, moving quietly so as not to wake Callum. His mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed over her chest and worry written plainly across her face.

"Be careful," she said softly.

"Always am," Aiden replied, which was a lie but a comforting one.

He left the flat and made his way downstairs, emerging onto streets that were quieter than they should be for this time of night. Most people were either evacuated or staying indoors, and the few pedestrians he passed moved quickly with their heads down, not making eye contact. The public transport was still running but the buses and tubes were nearly empty, the city holding its breath while waiting for the countdown to reach zero.

Aiden took the tube as far south as the lines were operating, then walked the rest of the way through industrial areas that were completely deserted. The red lightning overhead provided more illumination than the streetlights, casting everything in shifting shadows that made navigation difficult.

The coordinates the Chairman had provided led him to an unmarked building in a warehouse district near the Thames. From the outside it looked like any other industrial facility, just another anonymous structure among dozens, but when Aiden punched in the access code the door opened smoothly and interior lights activated automatically.

The inside was nothing like the exterior suggested.

The warehouse opened into a proper armory, the space organized with military precision. Rows of weapons racks lined one wall, sorted by type and rank. Armor stands filled another section, displaying everything from light reinforced clothing to full combat gear that looked like it could withstand artillery. Equipment lockers held supplies and accessories, neatly labeled and inventoried.

Aiden moved through the space methodically, his eyes scanning the available options. Most of the high-grade equipment was designed for hunters who relied on mana-based abilities, enchanted with tracking systems or remote lockouts that would be useless to him. He needed something simple and reliable, gear that would enhance his cultivation-based abilities without interfering.

The swords were arranged by style and origin. Japanese katanas, Chinese jian, European longswords, each one balanced and maintained to exacting standards. Aiden tested the weight and balance of several options, moving through basic forms to see how each weapon felt in his hands.

He settled on a European longsword with clean lines and perfect balance, the blade forged from high-carbon steel without any enchantments or embedded technology. It was simple and elegant, the kind of weapon that would channel his Sword Aura properly without distorting the energy flow. The grip felt natural in his hand and the weight distribution was exactly what he needed.

For Callum he selected something more practical, a quality short sword with a slightly shorter blade and lighter overall weight. His brother didn’t have the training or strength to handle a full longsword effectively, but a short sword was manageable for someone with basic fundamentals. The weapon was well-crafted without being ostentatious, functional gear for someone who needed reliability over flash.

Armor came next. Aiden found light reinforced gear that offered protection without restricting movement, the kind of equipment designed for hunters who relied on speed and technique rather than tanking damage. He selected sets for both himself and Callum, simple black material that would blend into shadows and not draw unnecessary attention.

By the time he finished gathering everything the countdown had ticked down another hour, and Aiden’s arms were full of carefully selected gear. He found a storage bag near the entrance and packed everything efficiently, then locked the armory behind him and retraced his path through the empty industrial district.

The journey back took longer than the journey out, the added weight slowing him down and making the tube stairs more challenging. But eventually he emerged near his building and climbed the stairs to his flat, moving quietly through the door so as not to wake anyone.

The living room was dark except for the television playing softly with the volume turned down. Callum sat on the sofa, still wearing the same clothes from earlier and clearly not having slept despite Aiden’s instructions.

"Couldn’t sleep?" Aiden asked softly, setting down the equipment bag.

Callum shook his head. "Kept thinking about everything. The training, the invasion, what’s going to happen when the barriers fall." He looked at the bag. "Is that the gear?"

"Yeah." Aiden opened the storage bag and pulled out the short sword, still in its sheath. "This is yours."

He held it out and Callum took it carefully, his hands wrapping around the grip with the correct placement Aiden had drilled into him during training. The weapon looked natural in his brother’s hands now, the stance automatic rather than forced.

"It’s lighter than I expected," Callum said, testing the weight.

"That’s intentional. You need something you can actually control with your current strength and training." Aiden pulled out his own longsword and set it on the table beside the armor. "The important thing isn’t the weapon itself, it’s knowing how to use it properly. Which you’re starting to learn."

Callum gripped the short sword properly and looked at Aiden, something fierce and determined burning in his eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday. "Thank you. For the training, for the gear, for... everything."

"You’re my brother," Aiden said simply. "This is what brothers do."

They sat together in the quiet flat, weapons resting between them and the countdown continuing its merciless descent in Aiden’s vision, both of them knowing that in less than thirty hours the world would change forever and all they could do was prepare as best they could with the time they had left.

[28:42:15... 28:42:14... 28:42:13...]

Twenty-eight hours remaining.