"You Can't Stop Me," the Black Belt Sneered — Then the Dojo Doors Locked

 Exhausted, heavily bruised, and gasping for breath, Marcus finally collapsed, falling to his knees in the dead center of the dojo. He tried to lift his fists, but his muscles simply refused to obey. His body ached terribly, but it was his monumental pride that was entirely shattered. Master Kaelen stood above him, not a single drop of sweat on his brow, his breathing as steady and deep as it had been during their meditation. "Wearing a black belt does not mean you have mastered the art," Kaelen said, his voice returning to its gentle, serene tone. "It simply means you have mastered the basics well enough to truly begin learning. You came into this room seeking to break us, but you have only broken yourself." Marcus stared at the wooden floor, tears of frustration, pain, and profound realization stinging his eyes. For the first time in his arrogant life, he felt truly powerless.