Chapter 64

I woke beneath the faint golden pulse of the tower walls.

Not because anything had disturbed me.

My body and mind had simply finished recovering from grave exhaustion.

That had already happened twice since I accepted Xafsa's offer, and by this point, the unfamiliarity of waking inside the Pulse Tower had already begun fading into routine.

I opened my eyes.

Felt the rejuvenated state of my body and mind.

Checked the time using this truly fascinating device called a clock that had so much more use than I expected.

Communed with my Essence.

And found that while my overdevelopment safety margin remained narrow, it had already expanded back to acceptable territory.

With my post-slumber routine completed, I rose from the most comfortable bed I had yet slept on and efficiently changed out of my sleep bodysuit to don the pristine white uniform of a trial Aspirant.

It was a close-fitting robe with short split panels at the waist, fitted sleeves, the Pulse Of Eternity's golden insignia for trial Aspirant—a golden torus knot with only three interwoven loops instead of ten—resting over my chest, and open sections along the back for my wings.

Several small pockets held basic tools and notes I hadn't bothered unloading, while the smooth fabric resisted stains and could be easily sterilized.

It was, arguably, a very practical uniform.

Ready, I lifted the trapdoor that served as the entrance to the secluded attic-like room I had uncovered from the list of available lodging and jumped off right into one of the main corridors traversing the eight hundredth fifty-seventh floor.

It still blew my mind whenever I passed by a window, only to realize that every tower built was pretty much the equivalent of the Rift Frame supporting the entirety of Red Sand Rift City, except it had all been designed, engineered, and built from zero, with every meter carefully accounted for.

As a result, instead of a hundred-odd floors, the Pulse Tower was split into a thousand and four hundred and some floors, with every floor actually having a use, either in utility, maintenance, or serving for all the purposes the Pulse Tower served.

Remembering the current time, my first assigned period with Xafsa wouldn't begin for another three hours.

Which meant my destination was set to the Aspirant repositories occupying the floors from one thousand one hundred twenty-three to one thousand one hundred thirty-seven.

Fifteen floors worth of interconnected space.

Knowing the way and having even found shortcuts usable thanks to my small size and ability to fly, I flew past the two hundred and sixty-six floors that separated me from the Aspirant repositories floor in merely ten minutes with a minimal amount of [Exertion]s involved.

Unlike the Seeker sanctuary of the Red Sand Sector, the various entrances to the Aspirant repositories' floors displayed no grand inscriptions concerning [Truth], the pursuit of [Knowledge], or the elevation of one's Path.

They listed categories.

Species anatomies.

Common diseases.

Rare diseases.

Essence-related disorders.

Toxicology.

Traumatic treatment.

Regeneration.

Post-treatment observation.

[Will] healing.

And hundreds more.

It was consummately practical and direct, and from this, it also displayed how the Pulse of Eternity had little interest in making its repositories feel profound.

Probably because their contents already possessed sufficient value and were targeted towards individuals who understood their inherent value, I assumed.

There were seemingly no guards preventing unwanted entries, but I had already seen what happened when one stepped onto those floors while having forgotten their identification markers, so I knew it was simply another display of efficiency.

The instant I passed through the entrance, I entered a long hall filled with shelves, reading alcoves, crystalline records, anatomical replicas, and dozens of individuals who barely acknowledged my arrival.

Within the sanctuary, Seekers had pursued thousands of different subjects.

One might spend years studying Realm Rifts.

Another, obscure Aspect interactions.

Another, the history of a vanished Sector civilization whose relevance no one else understood.

Here, however, every individual studied some expression of the same thing.

Biology.

Injuries.

Healing.

Our interests still diverged depending on what we were actually studying, but all who were present here shared a foundation.

Consequently, the exploratory stages of forming relationships were mostly non-existent.

We all learned about each other through sheer exposure, what books we were reading, and what few extremely pointed questions we sometimes exchanged.

A fellow trial Aspirant I had spoken with what approximately felt like forty or so hours ago, noticed my arrival and raised one hand.

"The layered circulatory comparison you asked for is in the third anatomical aisle," she said after I approached her. "Fourth shelf from the bottom. Someone returned it."

"Did 'Pressure redistribution in atypical lithoid biologies' answer your previous interrogation?" I asked back.

"Partially. The vessel collapse section applied to two of the case records I studied, but not the third. I presumed it was because the third species maintains pressure through muscular contraction rather than fluid volume."

"Happy to have helped, then. See you."

"Bye."

Just like that, we separated.

And as this had been our first interaction, by the social rules of the Pulse Tower, our relationship was established, and we would be more likely to exchange information and intelligence in the future.

It was efficient.

Also, unfortunately, not particularly conducive to generating [Inspiration].

No one who made it to become a trial Aspirant appeared likely to become fascinated by my Path merely because I answered a question well or successfully performed an unusual healing application.

Competence was expected.

Useful observations were appreciated.

Anything beyond that required repetition.

Proof.

Contribution.

Elements that could only come with time.

Soon enough, I arrived at the third anatomical aisle, retrieved the layered circulatory comparison text I had heard only excellent reviews and praise for, selected an alcove, and began reading.

As in, consuming as much [Knowledge] as my mind could process, deliberately pursuing [Insight]s until my [Clarity] was overwhelmed, forcing me to stop.

One section.

Pause.

Make certain [Guided] fully retained what I just read, and that I understood it with [Clarity].

Continue.

One section concerned the circulatory systems of seventeen morphotypes and three species that possessed nothing recognizable as circulation at all.

Another clarified why a patient's damaged secondary heart had continued destabilizing their primary one even after the first organ had been repaired.

Another connected pressure distribution to a correction Xafsa had made during my qualification trial, which prompted my quest for this text to begin with.

A fourth section reorganized several assumptions I had unknowingly carried over from "General Humanoid Anatomy".

And every section built on top of each other, slowly building towards more exquisite and complex [Insight]s.

By the time the first hour ended, I had already consumed a noticeable portion of what I currently considered my safe daily Essence-development quota.

So I closed the text, then remained still until the [Clarity] coursing through my mind finished separating what I had learned from what I only believed I understood.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Afterward, I moved to a less demanding record concerning post-operative observation.

When the time assigned for my duties approached, I returned both texts to where they belonged to not incur a demerit and descended through the tower.

The difference between treatment floors and all the other floors became audible before it became visible to my [Awareness].

Hurried footsteps.

Shouted instructions.

Cries of pain or fear.

The distant impact of something heavy striking a reinforced surface.

Then the scents arrived.

Blood.

Sterilizing compounds.

Medicines.

Burned tissue.

Today, Xafsa had been assigned to three procedures and the continued oversight of nine patients whose conditions remained sufficiently unstable to require a Restorer's involvement.

So I went through everything in order.

I verified the treatment chamber had been properly assigned to Xafsa.

Confirmed the patient was there and ready through a quick [Awareness] check.

Attested to the conformity of the treatment chamber.

Prepared all the supplies required for the three planned procedures...

By the time Xafsa showed up, everything was already ready, and it only needed to proceed with the procedure.

Evidently, as I was still "new", Xafsa reviewed everything I did and nitpicked where it found it necessary.

Once everything was in order, however, the first patient, a broad-bodied lithoid, was shortly brought in by an assistant who was merely hired by the Pulse Of Eternity to work here and laid on the central reinforced treatment platform.

A fracture extended through nearly half its torso, splitting layers of mineral tissue that pulsed with a slow internal light.

"Observe the fracture boundaries and make a [Diagnosis]," it said, beginning the procedure without any delay or hesitation by picking a fine drill with multiple of its crystalline filaments intertwined together.

I [Will]-enhanced my [Awareness].

The patient's body entered my [Perception] all at once.

Density.

Heat.

Fluid circulation.

Internal vibrations.

The damaged region wasn't merely cracked.

Several layers had shifted out of alignment, forcing the patient's internal fluid circulation through channels no longer capable of containing it.

A faint inconsistency also ran along the lower edge.

"Structural displacement," I said. "The outer fracture is less dangerous than the compression beneath it. Foreign material entered the fracture."

"Incorrect," Xafsa instantly corrected me. "They originated from the patient, were unnaturally shed, and now no longer belong where they settled, all while not being rejected. You let your [Purity] Aspect color your [Awareness]."

Made aware of my mistake, I internalized the possibility that something could originate from a body and still cease to belong within it, then restarted my [Diagnosis] from the beginning.

"Structural displacement. The outer fracture is..."

"Good. Remove the loose fragments," Xafsa instructed me, not correcting me this time. "Do not disturb the dark layer beneath them."

Just like that, the procedure began.

Compared to my initially observational role from two slumbers ago, I was now given all manner of simple yet demanding basic tasks that Xafsa's filaments previously accomplished.

"Why am I going to treat the visible failure first?"

Of course, I was still firmly in my early learning phase, and Xafsa couldn't have made that clearer than through his incessant questioning of my observation and [Comprehension] capabilities.

Every movement of its filaments.

Every change in the patient's internal rhythm.

Every mid-procedure correction.

Everything was expected to be perfectly observed.

"To stabilize the inner structure," I answered succinctly before detailing, "While the shell is not presently supporting the patient, the compressed inner structure is. Relieving it before adding pressure is essential."

"A little shallow, but acceptable nonetheless. Add 'Subdermal Lithoid Constructs And Structures' volume one through four to your reading list. Here, relieving the pressure is actually not the first priority before..."

Why?

How?

What consequence would have followed had another method been employed?

Xafsa didn't even attempt to simplify its explanations for me, and if I failed to understand something, I was expected to take note and search for answers in the Aspirant repositories.

"What prevents the released pressure from widening the fracture once the compression is removed?"

"The direction of release and the state of the remaining channels. Here, two appear to have partially collaps-"

"Three."

I searched for this third damaged channel.

Didn't find it.

"I cannot find it," so I reported.

Xafsa traced one filament across the patient's lower torso, causing a faint resonance to pass through the mineral layers, revealing a concealed ruptured channel hidden beneath a stronger channel.

Yet another failure that transformed into a new [Insight] for my [Awareness] to better uncover such concealed channels in the future.

The procedure continued for nearly two hours.

Near the end, Xafsa directed me to intervene.

"Maintain the alignment of the lowest channel."

I didn't ask for clarifications.

I simply manifested my [Will] and imposed the corrected state according to that of the neighboring channels.

The body resisted, its natural structure wanting to return toward the damaged alignment it had occupied for too long.

I held it.

I adjusted whenever Xafsa shifted the surrounding layers.

The expenditure remained minor at first.

Then the entire internal structure suddenly strained against my influence.

Probably a natural Aspect application.

Instead of forcing my [Will] manifestation, I narrowed it.

Less force.

More precision.

[Harmony] revealed how the channel's position depended upon two surrounding layers rather than existing independently.

I stopped holding the channel itself and began maintaining the relationship between all three.

The burden decreased.

"Better," Xafsa commented.

Soon enough, the patient was stabilized, the procedure was completed, and an assistant came to fetch the lithoid to transfer it to a recovery chamber.

Xafsa asked me a few more questions, corrected me here and there, gave me more texts to read, and then it left, having finished its Restorer's duties, leaving me to clean the workstation.

Until my early integration period ended, in addition to all my actual personal aide duties, I was to take care of all such basic and pointless tasks, allegedly having to learn exactly how things operated in a Pulse Tower.

I couldn't wait until I could delegate everything to the lazy assistants and leisure employees.

Still, for now...

I put all the extracted lithoid fragments in appropriate containers according to whether they remained biologically compatible, required analysis, or could be discarded.

I confirmed that every instrument exposed to the patient's internal fluids had been marked for specialized sterilization.

I personally cleansed the platform by using a special cleaning compound to remove residual mineral secretions.

Then I reviewed the procedure record, detailed resources and time expenditure, and sent copies to the departments responsible for continued observation.

Menial work.

Administrative work.

Logistical work.

Work that ensured everything operated as it ought to, regardless of how much it irritated people to perform it.

By the time I finished, I repeated the whole audit process, was spared some time to write down things, read a bit, and make a tour of the patients Xafsa had treated.

Then the time that the second procedure was scheduled to be carried out arrived, and a new patient was brought into the chamber I had just cleaned.

The patient this time was a soft-bodied molluscoid whose outer tissue had begun hardening from the inside.

"Report your observations," it stated.

I expanded my [Awareness].

The hardened regions spread along several internal membranes.

Their pattern appeared irregular until I accounted for the patient's shifting body shape.

"Progression follows nutrient exchange. Either the hardening consumes whatever those tissues transport, or the transported substance causes it."

I watched another pulse move through the patient.

The affected membrane hardened slightly after the nutrient fluid passed.

"The substance causes it."

"Partially."

Xafsa moved one filament close to the patient's body without touching.

The internal tissues responded before contact.

Foreign influence.

"The patient's own defensive response amplifies it," I corrected.

"Better."

That procedure required no intervention from me except for the handling of the chamber environment itself.

Only observation.

Questions.

[Comprehension].

Then, once again, Xafsa departed while I remained to oversee everything that followed.

This time, I even had to accompany the patient to an isolated chamber to confirm the environmental conditions and instruct two employees on how frequently to replace the nutrient solution while marking three symptoms that would require immediate escalation.

Then I made my rounds again.

Nine assigned patients.

Three floors.

Four different environmental requirements.

One patient needed darkness.

Another required heated water.

A third released spores whenever distressed and therefore occupied a sealed chamber whose pressure had to be checked manually.

I visited each.

Observed.

Compared their conditions with Xafsa's prior records.

Reported changes.

Most were improvements.

One wasn't.

The scaled woman in the fourth chamber had developed a faint tremor along her left arm.

Small.

Potentially meaningless.

I increased my [Awareness].

Her blood flow remained stable.

Breathing, regular.

Essence circulation...

Not regular.

A minor disruption passed from the healed abdominal tissue toward the arm every several breaths.

I recorded it.

Then reconsidered.

Waiting until my next scheduled report risked allowing the pattern to strengthen.

I contacted the Mender assigned to the floor.

He arrived, examined the patient, and initially found nothing concerning.

I showed him the interval.

He observed longer until he personally beheld the symptoms, then summoned Xafsa.

The disruption proved to be an early reaction between the patient's natural Essence and a regenerative compound used during surgery.

Xafsa altered the treatment before the reaction progressed.

No dramatic intervention.

No imminent death.

Only a small correction made before the problem became large enough to demand one.

"That," Xafsa said once the patient's circulation stabilized, "is why observation remains part of healing."

I already knew that.

But still, witnessing how a barely perceptible tremor revealed an escalating reaction clarified the [Insight].

By the end of the third procedure, Xafsa had asked me to intervene personally four additional times.

Stabilizing a heartbeat.

Maintaining pressure within an opened organ.

Separating two close organs long enough for one to be purged of corrupted tissue.

Forcing a convulsing breathing-related muscle group to relax without interrupting the patient's breathing.

Each application remained within my capabilities, but together, they accumulated.

By the time my assigned duties ended, nearly the entirety of my sixteen-hour-period Essence development quota had been consumed.

I returned to the Aspirant repositories regardless, this time to resume my long-postponed [Vitality] Aspect synthesis studies.

And I did so by retrieving an introductory text on the [Mastery] Aspect.