"This unit's like the one on the ship, right?" Draco asked, watching his uncle fiddle with a control panel on a massive cube.
"It is similar, but this one was refitted," Figanti said, typing in commands on the holographic panel. "We'll be able to reach our peaks without destroying the outside."
The cube hummed gently, a few pulsing whirs surprising him. After a number of pulses, the cube resorted to gently vibrating. "So... can we enter?"
Figanti chuckled as his Nera’ak phased through the wall, prompting Draco's eyes to widen. His uncle did the same, gesturing for him to follow. Draco looked up to Nyla, both unsure of what had just happened.
Do we... do that?
It's worth a shot.
Nyla cautiously moved to the wall and touched her claws against it, but grunted as it phased through until it touched the floor. She pushed her head forward, slowly disappearing from Draco's sight as she moved inside.
You might want to see this, Reku'un.
Draco moved to the wall, reaching his arm out to push through the wall. With a bit of trepidation, he walked in. There was another hum, and Draco marveled at the enormous size of the room he was in. It was easily big enough for a forest with enough space for Nyla to fly over said forest. Figanti waited by the wall to the left, amused by his nephew's amazement.
"How... this wasn't even a fraction of this room's size!" Draco exclaimed, walking closer to his uncle. "How is this possible?!"
"Loki'irian ingenuity. This room stretches the space inside, while the outside remains the same." With a press of a button, the room changed in temperature and humidity.
Trees began to appear out of thin air, underbrush and flowers of all kinds began sprouting and unraveling. Vines hung from the matured trees and animals chirped and called out. Nyla was awestruck as she watched Figanti's Nera’ak fly above the canopy, a smirk visible on his maw.
"This room can mimic almost any environment, be it a forest from home," he turned a dial to the left, and the biome quickly shifted to a more barren and desolate place, "or a war struck planet."
Draco dug a hand into the ground, grabbing a handful of sand and letting it fall. It felt too real to be a machine's work, and too genuine for a Signa. "So what will we be practicing here?" he asked, still running his fingers over the sand.
"You both change together, but your Rites still haven't fully entered her body,' he explained, his energy skyrocketing suddenly. They watched as Figanti turned grey, his arms and spine cracking as a row of curved pikes shout out, followed by his toes separating into four large claws with a fifth jutting out from behind his heel. His dragon's plates shifted as similar spikes protruded, and his horns curved forward. The final change was his dragon's body glowing with a purple aura, his scales matching the glow. "This, is what a Signa and his partner look like when they are joined in the second stage of Ina."
His voice had changed as well. It sounded... demonic... monstrous. Evil, really. But Draco knew that was his uncle, and his uncle was a man that stood against those very things. "Isn't that what happened to Nyla?" Draco questioned, thinking back to his fight with Netu'ung.
"No, and it wasn't so for Netu'ung, either." His Rites faded as his power dropped, down to a more stable and medium level. "He didn't learn to control his own bond, and not many of his age have been able to. Your body is being pushed by the Thermite in your blood. With one last dose, you will be put into an artificial-Maturity. Before that you must have a disciplined bond, at the very least."
"Alright... how do we discipline our bond?" He waited for an answer, but gasped as his uncle changed and fired a deadly beam at him.
Instinct kicked in, and Draco changed along with Nyla as he moved his hand up to deflect the blast. The metals nearly reached his arm, his energy climbing as fast as it could, but the energy slammed into him. His arm burned and ached, following his side as he was launched across the room. The biome changed to a swamp, and he slid along a muddy path before hitting a sturdy rock. He cried out as he tried moving his hurt arm, but found it to be broken and his side had been cut by the rock. Nyla found a similar attack headed for her as Figanti's dragon, Eskor, slashed her chest open and pounced on her, rolling onto his back as his maw charged a blast that sent Nyla into the ceiling. She crashed into the ground in pain, spasming as her scales sluggishly pulled back into place.
"You cannot transform as fast as we can," Figanti pointed out. "Because of that, Nyla couldn't either. Not only that, she could have blocked the attack if she had reacted with your abilities supporting her, and Eskor wouldn't have landed the second attack if you had been up."
His nephew groaned as he writhed on the ground, propping himself up against the rock. "But, ngh... how do we-"
"Nyla didn't try to force the change," his uncle answered, pointing to Nyla. "She has the ability to usher out the change for some time while you can, and will learn to, maintain it. The process is quicker, more stable, and stronger. You can keep your energy leveled if you both focus on it."
Without warning, he fired another shot. This time, Nyla dove into Draco's mind and drew out his more instinctual nature, copying it and moved to cover him. Draco forced his metals to complete their movements as he funneled energy into his connection. Nyla's wing planted itself in front of him, and the energy exploded on contact. The smoke cleared as Eskor lunged, his jaws apart and ready to clamp down as Nyla tried to react. Eskor felt his jaw clamp shut, and his body was sent off to the side. Draco fell to the ground less than gracefully, panting as he felt weariness creeping into his body. The metals crawled back into his body, Nyla's returning to normal as well.
"Better," Figanti called, lowering his power once more. "But do you see? It takes a large amount of energy for each pair to change this quickly. You'll have to learn to control your energy while devoting a fraction of it to keeping your Ina form active."
"And... feeling... wasted... means what?" Draco panted, Nyla supporting him as she fought to catch her breath.
Figanti smiled and cracked his knuckles. "Like any fat man running, or a young hokor wrestling for the first time, it means you are in need of practice." Draco gulped as Figanti's energy rose again, this time feeling as solid as a rock. "You're out of shape, Reku'un. And I'm going to knock that out of you."