Chapter 72

The [Mastery] Aspect did not instantly allow me to master every one of my Aspects and their respective synergies and applications.

An evident conclusion.

But one that still took me weeks to fully appreciate the nuances of.

Immediately following its formation, I had expected its effects to resemble those of my [Cultivation] Aspect.

And in some approximate way, they did.

Both Aspects directed me toward improvement.

Both gradually exposed inefficiencies within my [Exertion]s, be they intellectual or physical.

Both reacted whenever I pursued a result through methods that failed to properly serve it.

The distinction only emerged within the details.

My [Cultivation] Aspect treated everything as a process that could be developed.

It brought my [Focus] toward progression.

What could be improved.

Which practice produced that improvement.

How intensity, repetition, recovery, and adaptation affected the result.

How one part of my Path could be cultivated alongside another without causing them to conflict.

[Mastery]... felt different.

It did not concern itself with how I progressed toward greater competence.

It concerned itself with how thoroughly I commanded what competence I already possessed.

When I performed a healing procedure, whereas my [Cultivation] Aspect [Guided] me toward making my next attempt better, my [Mastery] Aspect instead made me aware of how the present performance related to its [Purpose].

Which motions were necessary.

Which were merely familiar.

Which portions I had acquired a [Comprehension] of.

Which portions I reproduced because Xafsa had previously corrected me into doing so.

Which variables I commanded well enough to adapt around.

Which variables still commanded me through my ignorance of them.

The effect manifested as something resembling an independent sense of pseudo-[Comprehension].

It did not provide actual [Knowledge].

It did not explain the biological principles underlying an [Exertion] I failed to understand.

It could not reveal an unknown anatomical structure or correct a false conclusion merely because it was false.

Instead, it made me grasp what I already knew from new perspectives.

A pressure applied to damaged tissue stopped being merely a pressure of a specific magnitude applied at a specific location.

It became one element within a complete procedure whose [Purpose] was to control fluid movement without compromising circulation.

A cut ceased to be successful because it followed the marked line with perfect precision.

It became successful because its depth, angle, and location exposed the required structure while preserving everything the procedure didn't intend to disturb.

The distinctions were subtle, but my [Mastery] Aspect made those distinctions ever so slightly easier to apprehend.

It exposed where my [Comprehension] failed to grant me genuine [Mastery].

It relied upon my [Clarity] to make me delve where I never thought to look.

It allowed my [Cultivation] Aspect to direct its efforts with a precision I had previously rarely attained.

And where [Harmony] brought every relevant part together...

[Mastery] made me recognize which parts I could truly claim to control.

The first weeks after its formation were consequently filled with the same question.

Why had I not done that before?

Why had I maintained pressure through the full length of a procedure when the tissue had stabilized halfway through it?

Why had I organized my reports according to the sequence in which events occurred when organizing them according to clinical priority allowed Xafsa to review them faster?

Why had I personally verified every tool distribution when the assistants responsible for them already produced records accurate enough that only exceptions warranted my attention?

Why had I separated my theoretical studies from my practical reviews when connecting them allowed both to reinforce one another?

Some answers were obvious.

I hadn't possessed the [Knowledge].

I hadn't acquired enough experience to recognize the pattern.

The previous method had been safer.

The previous inefficiency had been too insignificant to justify addressing.

Others were less acceptable.

Habit.

Assumptions.

A procedure copied without true [Comprehension] of why it had taken that exact form.

Being [Guided] combined with my usual minor deliberate deviations throughout my various [Cultivation]s had already allowed me to correct many such deficiencies on my own, but it was really only now that the [Mastery] Aspect had become part of my Path that...

I perceived more clearly the [Mastery] I and [Guided] had always been striving toward.

[Mastery].

Not flawed [Perfection].

Not endlessly repeated optimization.

The ability to make each [Exertion]s serve precisely what I intended them to accomplish.

I explored those effects over the weeks following the Aspect's formation.

During procedures.

While studying.

While flying.

While acting as Xafsa's personal aide.

While maintaining my [Secrecy].

While conceptualizing [Vitality].

Especially while conceptualizing [Vitality].

Because if my [Vitality] proto-concept was to eventually become an Aspect rooted within my Path, I couldn't afford to assemble it from principles I merely recognized.

I had to acquire a comprehensive [Comprehension] and [Mastery] of the relationships between them.

Know why each conceptual thread of [Life] [Comprehension] belonged.

Know what it contributed.

Know how it altered everything surrounding it.

Know when two apparently compatible principles only appeared compatible because my [Comprehension] remained shallow.

As expected...

The [Mastery] Aspect proved indispensable.

Which was why I didn't conceal my successful formation of it.

Hiding it behind my [Secrecy] offered too few advantages.

The Pulse already expected me to form it.

It was one of the thresholds listed within my incentive program.

Revealing it granted me access to more demanding guidance from Xafsa, and potentially would reduce my duty periods in the long-term.

Concealing it would have only deprived me of those benefits to preserve the advantage of [Secrecy], whose practical value I couldn't establish.

So, during the first suitable pause in Xafsa's schedule, I informed it.

"I formed the [Mastery] Aspect."

Xafsa's sensory filaments shifted toward me.

"When?"

"Two weeks ago."

"Faster than I anticipated."

And that was it.

No surprise.

No praise.

No pointless acknowledgment of how early I had formed an Aspect that it had likely expected me to pursue for many more months.

Perfect.

From then onward, I steadily updated Xafsa regarding my progress toward conceptualizing my [Vitality] proto-concept.

Not every tentative connection.

Not every discarded definition.

Only developments sufficiently stable to be worth its attention.

The distinction between energy possessed by a living structure and its capacity to transform that energy into continued existence.

The interdependence between preservation and controlled destruction.

The necessity of change within anything that sought to persist.

The separation between health and [Vitality].

The possibility that [Vitality] was not a condition possessed by [Life], but the force through which [Life] sustained its condition against the pressures attempting to alter it.

Xafsa corrected some conclusions.

Questioned others.

Refused to answer whenever it determined that answering would supersede a [Comprehension] I needed to attain myself.

Then, after one such update, whether due to my progress or because the timing fit, it informed me of what would follow the conceptualization phase.

"Once your personal concept of [Vitality] has reached sufficient completion such that it can be manifested in open air through your [Will] and endure without an excessive energy demand, you will be qualified to commence the [Vitality] manifestation phase."

"Once you qualify, I will hand you a special [Ether] apparatus called a [Vitality] globe, which contains specially cultivated plantoid tissues."

I didn't bother inquiring why plantoid tissue instead of any other physiology.

Plantoid tissues simply came in greater variety, and combining their ease of mass-culture with the ability to select exactly the right properties, they were rationally the best option.

"You will then be allowed to make your manifested [Vitality] interact with the plantoid tissue samples to study the results."

"The selected plantoid tissue sample possesses simple enough reactions to be interpreted clearly while retaining sufficient biological complexity to reveal conceptual deficiencies."

"As for the apparatus itself, it will isolate the organism, stabilize its surrounding conditions, and render the consequences of your manifestation evident to behold."

"How evident?" I inquired.

"If your proto-concept promotes uncontrolled growth, the plant will grow uncontrollably."

"If it interferes with biological identity, tissues may differentiate incorrectly."

"If it is internally contradictory, different portions of the organism may respond in opposing ways."

"If it lacks a required principle, the apparatus will impose circumstances intended to expose that absence."

Straightforward.

"This will allow you to refine and complete your proto-concept until it reaches the threshold where manifesting it within your own body no longer presents an unacceptable danger."

"Can I have it now?"

"No."

"How many plantoid tissue samples are generally killed during this phase?"

"Depends."

"Average?"

"Not useful."

"Range?"

"Unimportant."

"Highest recorded number?"

"I will not provide you with an irrelevant target to surpass."

The question not being of that much interest to me, I stopped my line of inquiry and moved on.

I was still far from qualifying for the [Vitality] manifestation phase regardless.

I had not even completed half of my proto-concept, after all.

Or so Xafsa had concluded as of my last demonstration of my manifested [Vitality] concept.

The energy expenditure had been absurd.

And what had emerged from my attempt was a colorless, formless wisp so faint that even my [Awareness] struggled to distinguish it from the dustless air saturating the treatment floors.

It had been so unstable that it ended up existing for less than a second before its internal contradictions tore it apart.

But still...

I had manifested something.

Months ago, attempting the same feat had produced nothing but energy loss and a vague pressure that never separated from my [Will].

Now, a wisp had manifested.

Briefly.

Imperfectly.

But independently enough for Xafsa to observe.

Progress.

From then onward, the conceptualization phase became even more concrete.

I knew what was expected of me.

And I already owned all the Aspects required to make it a reality.

In the meantime, the world surrounding me continued moving.

Some noticed changes in my demeanor.

How could they not?

My studies had narrowed so drastically that anyone observant enough—nearly everyone worthy of becoming members of the Pulse Of Eternity—regularly sharing the Aspirant repositories with me could identify the pattern.

Texts concerning the endless interactions between [Life] and Essence.

Comparative regeneration.

Adaptive responses.

Metabolic collapse.

Developmental regulation.

Systemic resilience.

Identity preservation through tissue replacement.

The relation between damage, repair, and future resistance...

I had all but ceased progressing in subjects insufficiently related to my present pursuit of forming the [Vitality] Aspect.

Neurological disorders whose primary consequences remained cognitive?

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Species-specific sensory organs?

Parasitic symbioses?

Cosmetic reconstruction?

Behavioral pathologies?

Nonliving prosthetic integration?

Not useless.

Merely insufficiently relevant.

They could wait.

Keeping up appearances remained easy regardless.

The [Life] [Knowledge] whose [Mastery] and [Comprehension] I slowly acquired as I chased after my [Vitality] proto-concept could be repurposed into perfectly acceptable study results.

I still answered questions.

Still participated in discussions.

Still applied what I learned during procedures.

Still corrected fellow trial Aspirants when they misunderstood a principle I had investigated.

From the outside, there was little difference between studying systemic biological resilience to become a better healer and studying it because I intended to extract the underlying [Comprehension] which I could add to my personal concept of [Vitality].

The books were the same.

The [Knowledge] was the same.

The practical competence produced by it was the same.

Only the [Purpose] differed.

And [Purpose] wasn't something most could observe.

So from the outside, nothing much changed, and I continued living in the Pulse Tower as a new motivated and hopeful trial Aspirant.

One who was becoming a familiar face.

The tiny fairy who occupied the same repository alcoves for entire days.

Xafsa's personal aide.

The one who asked overly precise questions.

The one whose corrections were useful but whose manner made it unclear whether she intended to help or merely couldn't tolerate an unresolved error.

Assistants learned how to prepare fairy-sized instruments without being asked.

Auxiliaries began giving me schedule irregularities directly rather than waiting for them to pass through multiple administrative layers.

Trial Aspirants approached me with references they believed relevant to whatever narrow subject I had most recently pursued.

Some Aspirants even began entrusting me with preliminary observations from procedures I hadn't attended.

Exposure.

Repetition.

Contribution.

Exactly as I had once observed.

Relationships within the Pulse Of Eternity weren't primarily declared.

They were formed through accumulation and acknowledgment.

And as they accumulated, I glimpsed more of the web of interests binding the organization together.

One trial Aspirant wished to earn a permanent position in this exact peripheral Tower because he didn't have the [Will] or [Ambition] to pursue being transferred to an Everwell Prime Pulse Tower.

Another pursued reassignment to a specialized regenerative facility, her Path being about extreme specialization and this being the specialization she set her sights on.

An Aspirant gathered contributions for a research project that might qualify as her advancement requirement.

An assistant repeatedly volunteered for difficult patients to build a record impressive enough to apply for trial Aspirant status.

A senior auxiliary arranged shifts around the development cycles of her offspring.

And this web slowly unveiled itself to expand beyond the confines of the Pulse Tower and into the peripheral district we were part of.

A supplier pushed one category of instruments because its organization benefited from continued Pulse adoption.

A nearby restaurant adjusted its opening periods to match the end of the most populated treatment shifts.

Everyone strived.

Not necessarily upward.

Not necessarily toward power.

Toward stability.

Recognition.

[Knowledge].

Credits.

Family.

Influence.

Convenience.

A particular position.

A particular opportunity.

A particular future.

I couldn't care less about most of them.

Whether any individual here was [Worthy] of my time remained their problem until their Path intersected mine in a meaningful way.

But I recognized the web.

And I recognized how different it was from the one binding the Red Sand Sector.

There, interests had gathered around scarcity.

Paste.

Safe territory.

Clean and sustainable source of metal.

Authority capable of defending either.

Almost every relationship eventually narrowed toward who controlled which resource and what violence prevented someone else from seizing it.

Here...

Scarcity still existed.

Of course it did.

But it wasn't the same scarcity.

The two words may as well refer to completely different concepts.

Access to opportunities was scarce.

Positions of authority were scarce.

The attention of experts was scarce.

Rare materials, specialized procedures, repository permissions, valuable assignments, and advancement opportunities all remained things entities competed over.

But this new kind of scarcity mixed with conflict of interests existed within structures so vast that their existence became nearly inconsequential.

Money was just another such difference.

As a trial Aspirant, I received a modest salary of four hundred "Everwell credits" for every week of fully attended duties.

Fifty credits for each day.

Credits.

Not coins.

Slips of paper that contained numbers, symbols, minute patterns, and [Ether]-related features that allegedly rendered counterfeiting them prohibitively difficult—and more expensive than it was worth.

Coins simply weren't a thing anymore except inside facilities known as "museums", which collected old artifacts and reminders of Eras past.

As for what my salary was worth, while flying through the peripheral district, I overheard that a filling meal at a popular restaurant generally cost between ten and twenty credits.

Which meant one day of my duties could purchase multiple such meals, amply sustaining me.

Or would have, had I required them.

My physiological [Cultivation] [Cycle] already provided me with everything I required to sustain my biological vessel.

My uniform, necessary equipment, and place of residency were taken care of by the Pulse.

And access to the Aspirant repositories required no payment.

I had therefore yet to discover a use for the growing accumulation of credits assigned to my name, and simply opted to put it all in the bank I was referred to by the Pulse.

Just like in Red Sand Rift City, banks as establishments to store wealth still existed, except the comparison became somewhat absurd the moment scale was considered.

Some banks occupied entire towers.

Some allegedly operated across multiple Sectors.

Some handled the credits of tens of millions of individuals at once and their daily operations.

And that was without taking into account the thousands of organizations that appeared to exist upon purely economic foundations.

They lent credits.

Stored them.

Invested them.

Converted them into ownership over resources, properties, projects, transport, production, and entities' future labor.

They evaluated risks.

Sold those evaluations.

Allowed others to purchase portions of ventures whose functions they might never personally witness.

All built around symbols representing value rather than value directly held.

It was all so fascinating...

Though mostly irrelevant for now.

The only prospective use I had idly identified for my credits was to make copies of "The Nascence Of Solaena".

But even that required deeper planning than just a vague idea.

Like a means of determining where each copy I paid for could induce the greatest [Inspiration] or [Faith].

And I refused to dedicate even a second of deliberate thought toward it while solutions to my overdevelopment disorder were within sight.

Only incidental [Insight]s that surfaced every so often while I toured the peripheral district in search of [Inspiration] were acceptable.

But all they amounted to were really just potential leads.

Nothing comprehensive.

Orphanages, for example.

Children raised without guardians possessed circumstances vaguely similar to my own.

I could donate copies.

Potentially even read the text personally, allowing my presence to provide a more immediate foundation for their [Faith].

Then there were entities living in circumstances resembling Guardian Elric's after he lost his limbs.

Those who had been broken by violence, disease, failure, or circumstances they lacked the [Will] to overcome.

From what I overheard, many gathered within poorly maintained locations called "slums".

They were potentially suitable.

Prisons also existed as alternatives.

Places where Civilization confined entities that it had determined shouldn't be allowed to move freely.

The imprisoned presumably possessed excessive quantities of time.

Time they could dedicate to [Faith].

A [Faith] they could use to reinterpret their circumstances as an opportunity for some manner of repentance.

A very convenient framing.

Perhaps too convenient.

Though still irrelevant, as all of it could be investigated later, once I found a way to unbind my Path from the constraints of my overdevelopment disorder.

Until then, my credits could accumulate.

Planning my [Faith] could wait.

My curiosity could be delayed.

Because I had my concept of [Vitality] to make a reality.

And with the [Mastery] Aspect now a part of my Path, my [Vitality] conceptualization [Cultivation] routine only grew more refined, if in increasingly strange ways that over and over again prompted me to ask the same question.

Why had I not done that before?

Why had I reviewed definitions separately when comparing them at the exact moment their contradictions became relevant reduced the effort needed to retain both?

Why had I attempted to integrate new [Knowledge] immediately when temporarily preserving it as an unresolved structure allowed later [Comprehension] to reveal where it belonged?

Why had I treated the intensity of my conceptualization sessions as one continuous variable when different portions benefited from entirely different distributions of my [Will] toward enhancing my [Clarity], [Harmony], [Comprehension], and [Mastery] Aspects?

Why had I allowed [Guided] to summon the whole sea of [Life] [Knowledge] every time when some questions only required one current?

The changes accumulated until my routine stabilized around my sole limiting factor—my overdevelopment safety margin.

When the margin was extensive...

I ignited my [Ambition].

My [Will] blazed.

[Guided] summoned the sea of [Life] [Knowledge].

I drowned within it willingly.

Every memory.

Every procedure.

Every species.

Every biological contradiction.

I pulled apart what I understood.

Forced unrelated principles against one another.

Searched for what survived every context.

My [Clarity] separated.

My [Harmony] connected.

My [Purity] filtered.

My [Mastery] tested whether I truly commanded each relationship or merely recognized it.

My [Cultivation] directed the whole process toward producing something more complete than what had existed before.

When my safety margin was low, and I couldn't freely develop my Essence, however...

I read books connected to the threads of [Comprehension] about [Life] and [Vitality] I had already mastered.

No exploratory research whose relevance remained uncertain.

No broad fields pursued in the hope that something interesting might emerge.

I followed existing threads toward greater depth.

Biological identity.

Adaptive expenditure.

Recovery limits.

The conversion of stored resources into immediate resistance.

The relation between systemic integrity and the sacrifice of individual parts.

Information whose assimilation demanded little Essence development because I already acquired such a deep [Comprehension] and [Mastery] of them.

And when my safety margin rested between those extremes...

I put my [Comprehension] to the test of [Mastery].

I investigated how I could be wrong.

How the threads I considered foundational could have been produced by the limitations of my own biology.

How my understanding of [Vitality] might be distorted by having spent my life within one fairy body.

How [Guided]'s teachings could bias me toward processes it understood through my experiences.

How concepts that appeared universal might fail within plantoids or lithoid organisms, distributed entities, or beings whose physical vessel was only a temporary expression of their Essence.

I attacked every conclusion I reached to determine whether I truly mastered them well enough to preserve their integrity through the subsequent ignition of my [Ambition].

Like that...

I advanced.

Giant stride after giant stride.

Toward the day I could manifest a wisp of [Vitality] that wouldn't disperse after a second of existence.

The weeks accumulated.

Then the months.

The world continued moving.

Patients entered the Tower.

Some left healed.

Some left stabilized.

Some didn't leave.

Trial Aspirants advanced.

Others abandoned their positions.

Schedules changed.

Relationships deepened through repeated usefulness.

Credits accumulated.

And inexorably...

My proto-concept grew.

By the end of my eighth month as a trial Aspirant of the Pulse Of Eternity, the process had become all I could think about.

Eight months.

Half a year.

Which brought me increasingly closer to my fifth year of existence since I was conceived—a measure of age I had increasingly begun to consider more accurate than counting from the day I was born and abandoned at the refuge.

My existence hadn't begun with my first breath.

With being discovered by the wrinkled one.

Before all of that, I was already being [Guided].

I had already begun to struggle for my continued survival

Already formed Aspects.

Already started walking down my Path.

Birth had really only been a change of environment, much like the numerous ones I experienced since my departure from the Red Sand Sector.

Of those eight months, I had established, tested, and optimized my [Vitality] conceptualization [Cultivation] routine over five of them.

I woke up.

Checked my physical state.

Communed with my Essence.

Confirmed the state of my overdevelopment safety margin.

Then I [Will]ed my concept of [Vitality] into being.

No preparation.

No preemptive meditation.

No sorting through my [Comprehension].

No enhancement of my [Clarity] or [Harmony].

I simply employed what I had acquired the [Mastery] to manifest.

Energy vanished from my [Cultivation] [Cycle].

Much less than months ago.

Still far too much.

A sliver of something emerged over my palm.

Almost colorless.

Almost.

Faint streaks of gold pulsed chaotically within it.

They moved without pattern.

Appeared.

Vanished.

Crossed one another.

The manifestation trembled as its internal contradictions pulled it in incompatible directions.

One second passed.

Then another.

Then a third.

The outer edges began to fray.

The golden streaks dimmed.

And the sliver dispersed.

I lowered my hand.

Compared to months ago...

Progress.

Compared to a week ago...

Progress.

Compared to the last time I woke up...

Progress.

It was all progress.

Even if the result appeared lackluster, if not pathetic, measured against how much [Comprehension] of [Life] I had woven into what I had just manifested.

My everything, from my Origin Aspects to my [Mastery], [Clarity], [Harmony], [Purity], [Cultivation], [Comprehension], [Awareness], [Will], and [Ambition] Aspects...

All had contributed over months toward making this one sliver survive a handful of seconds.

And while I didn't need it, Xafsa's pestering reminders echoed in my ears when a part of me sought to judge my speed.

This was an endeavor meant to unfold over years, if not decades.

And if once I hadn't believed it, now, I did.

How could I not?

Before beginning, I had imagined that conceptualizing [Vitality] would be difficult.

Perhaps ten times more difficult than conceptualizing a concept already handed to me in a complete, if sometimes unclear, form

Perhaps a hundred times, if even I wasn't sure what I was aspiring to.

An enormous undertaking, to be certain.

But still a numerically comparable one.

When in [truth]...

The actual difficulty defied such comparison.

I wasn't learning one concept.

I was deciding what that concept was.

Every definition I made altered the [Knowledge] that belonged within it.

Every piece of [Knowledge] I defined in itself altered the definition.

Every exception I discovered forced a distinction between a genuine contradiction and a different expression of the same principle.

Every answer exposed more questions than had existed before it...

No number could adequately compare the difficulty.

So Xafsa had been correct.

Again.

Not that the newfound scale of such an obstacle changed anything to my Path, be it in the present or in the future.

I thrived when faced with obstacles to overcome.

And before I knew it, I began another [Vitality ]conceptualization [Cultivation] session.

My [Awareness] compressed until my body became the sole physical existence that mattered.

My [Clarity] sharpened.

My [Harmony] divided my mind into the structures required to hold memories, conclusions, contradictions, and unresolved [Knowledge] without allowing them to contaminate one another.

My [Mastery] settled over every process.

My [Purity] awaited to parse through what didn't belong.

My [Cultivation] aligned them toward one [Purpose].

Then my [Ambition] ignited.

[Guided] answered.

The sea of [Life] [Knowledge] that had only kept growing despite my efforts descended.

Blood.

Sap.

Gel.

Crystalline filaments.

Breathing.

Circulation.

Nutrient conversion.

Adaptation.

Recovery.

Regeneration.

Development.

Sacrifice.

Persistence.

Change.

Every thread I had woven rose to meet it.

I tested them.

[Growth] wasn't [Vitality].

But [Vitality] could produce [Growth].

[Recovery] wasn't [Vitality].

But [Recovery] expressed the capacity [Vitality] granted [Life] to oppose its own deterioration.

[Energy] wasn't [Vitality].

But [Vitality] without [Energy] had no means through which to manifest.

[Identity] wasn't [Vitality].

Yet persistence without enough continuity of [Identity] became replacement rather than survival.

The distinctions sharpened.

Threads tightened.

Some snapped.

Others joined.

My energy plummeted.

I continued.

Hours passed.

Then my duties arrived.

I became Xafsa's personal aide.

Prepared chambers.

Reviewed patients.

Observed procedures.

Answered questions.

Was corrected.

Corrected myself.

Remembered everything.

All while the surviving threads waited within my mind.

Then I returned to the Aspirant repository floors.

Resumed.

Read.

Tested.

Manifested.

Failed.

Adjusted.

Days passed.

My overdevelopment safety margin narrowed.

I drove it downward with exact [Mastery].

Never beyond the threshold I had established.

Never wasting enough of it to matter.

My [Ambition] burned whenever it could.

My [Will] carried what it demanded.

My [Clarity] preserved the Path forward.

[Guided] never ceased directing me.

On the eighth day, exhaustion finally claimed what remained.

My thoughts slowed.

My body grew heavy.

The threads of my proto-concept lost their sharp distinctions.

So I stopped and allowed my mind to release what it couldn't preserve without loss as I made my way back to my room...

And fell asleep after eight days spent giving everything I could.

Then I woke up.

My thoughts returned.

My physiological [Cultivation] had sustained my body without requiring even the faintest background attention.

I checked everything.

Body.

Essence.

Safety margin.

Then, I raised my hand.

No preparation.

I [Will]ed my own concept of [Vitality] into being.

A sliver appeared.

Pulsing gold.

Not colorless, interrupted by occasional golden streaks.

Golden [Vitality].

Faint.

Ephemeral.

Still riddled with imperfections.

But it endured.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The sliver trembled.

Its edges frayed.

Yet it remained.

Then, only after multiple more seconds did it scatter into nothing.

I stared at the empty space above my palm.

Progress.