Time passed.
Kael had lost count of how many times he walked the same corridors, trained in the same rooms, drank the same whisky while reading about forgotten civilizations.
Two years had gone by since his arrival in this new world — and not a single mission had been assigned.
Tired of waiting, he stood before the Comandos Base communication panel.
The hologram flickered to life. Mister appeared.
"Two years," Kael said sharply. "Two years without a single mission.
I was called to act, to change realities, to help humanity… not to rot here between books and simulations."
Mister kept his calm gaze.
"You're not ready yet, Kael."
"Not ready? I should've been ready a long time ago."
"It's not about time," Mister replied. "It's about preparation.
You need to be complete. You must know not just how to fight, but when not to fight.
You must understand cultures, people, minds.
A wrong move at the wrong time could doom an entire era."
Kael took a deep breath.
And for the first time… he accepted.
---
In the months that followed, he built his own routine:
physical training, deep study, and disciplined practice.
He trained in martial arts, self-defense, swordplay, knives, and firearms.
He learned how to disassemble, reassemble, and fire with surgical precision.
But he didn't stop there.
He studied human psychology, civilization history, ancient languages, moral philosophy, and military strategy.
It lasted five years.
Five years of sweat, silence, failures, restless nights, and self-discovery.
Then… LIGA called him again.
The panel lit up like before.
Mister reappeared.
"Kael… you are ready."