Solaena's [Guided] Journey (Fantasy LitRPG)

With a mastered slanting of my balance and wings, I abruptly decelerated right before the main gate leading inside what should have rightfully been called a [Physicality] [Cultivation] establishment, but whose terminology preferred by the entities operating it was fitness center.

When I first heard that name, I nearly disregarded it, thus nearly never ending up visiting this establishment that occupied five consecutive floors of a broad tower, each one filled with facilities dedicated to strengthening, exhausting, damaging, recovering, testing, and otherwise developing physical vessels.

It was also one of the external assignments made available to willing Aspirants of the Pulse Of Eternity.

One I requested whenever it appeared, much to the curiosity of my fellow Aspirants who were rarely as enthusiastic.

Most preferred treatment centers.

Specialized clinics.

Research facilities.

Assignments where their medical [Knowledge] could be applied to unfamiliar afflictions or patients whose conditions held greater educational value.

Watching healthy entities voluntarily strain themselves until their muscles tore apparently held less appeal.

Be that as it may, their indifference ultimately worked in my favor, as this place and its [Purpose] echoed strongly with why I had started pursuing the [Vitality] Aspect to begin with, and whenever this assignment became available—multiple times per week—I usually acquired it.

When I flew through the entrance, the establishment's reception hall unveiled itself to my [Awareness].

Wide.

Bright.

Filled with moving bodies.

Various platforms had been integrated into the walls at different heights to accommodate entities whose morphologies made the ground inconvenient.

The air was warm.

Not uncomfortably so.

Merely saturated with the heat produced by hundreds of physical vessels undergoing sustained [Exertion].

Muted impacts traveled through the structure.

Weights falling.

Limbs striking reinforced surfaces.

Machines resisting whoever attempted to move them.

Grunts.

Cries.

The occasional shout whose tone made distinguishing pain from satisfaction unnecessarily difficult.

A receptionist noticed my approach.

"Morning, Aspirant Solaena."

"Good morning."

My identification was verified before I landed upon the reception surface.

No questions.

No need to be explained what my role was.

No need to review the layout of where I needed to go.

I had already taken this assignment too many times for that, and the receptionist knew me.

Within moments, an assistant informed me that the after-[Exertion] recovery station had been prepared, so after a quick exchange, I flew toward it.

The station occupied a large section adjoining the main training halls.

From what I had gathered, its existence made this fitness center relatively high-end.

Most establishments merely provided basic recovery rooms.

Water.

Nutrients.

A place to rest.

Perhaps one or two attendants capable of identifying obvious injuries.

This one provided significantly more.

Several cold baths had been adapted for different physiologies and tolerances.

Some contained water.

Others gels.

One held a transparent liquid maintained cold enough that touching it would have damaged me within seconds.

Heating chambers stood opposite them.

Saunas, they were called.

Rooms designed to expose physical vessels to sustained heat and humidity for reasons extending from relaxation to circulatory benefits.

There were also massage parlors.

Another new variety of facility.

Their attendants manipulated muscles, connective tissues, outer layers, and even internal fluid systems through pressure, vibration, heat, and specialized [Ether] tools.

The effects from all these facilities were many.

Reducing muscle tension.

Improving circulation.

Separating adhesions.

Increasing mobility.

And though most seemed to primarily induce physical recovery, I wasn't surprised by their mental facet as well.

Some claimed a good bath after an intense [Exertion] session allowed them to release that much more stress.

Others came here simply to fall asleep while receiving massages, much to the annoyance of the attendants.

Beyond those facilities were controlled-stretching chambers, nutrient stations, breathing rooms, mild [Ether] stimulation beds, and isolated areas where entities could stabilize after especially intensive [Physicality] [Cultivation].

And finally, at the center of it all...

My station.

A broad platform holding diagnostic instruments, sealed supplies, records, and enough empty space for the biggest patients.

Upon arriving, I first checked the equipment.

Verified the schedule.

Reviewed the establishment's incident reports since my previous assignment.

Nothing particularly concerning.

Several muscle tears.

A fractured support structure belonging to a lithoid physiology.

Two episodes of circulatory collapse.

One tendon detachment.

All had already been addressed.

Hence, when the time arrived, I opened the station, and the first prospective "patients"—not truly, though the term still strangely fit—began arriving less than a minute later.

Most were simply exhausted.

Sweating.

Breathing heavily.

Trembling.

Their physical vessels displayed the temporary consequences of successful intensive [Exertion].

One humanoid entered with every visible muscle trembling.

No significant damage.

No neurological irregularity.

No circulatory instability.

Only widespread fatigue and minor accumulation of metabolic waste.

"Cold bath seven," I directed. "Remain inside for no longer than the recommended cycle. Consume nutrients afterward."

He nodded and left.

The next individual possessed a body formed from interwoven fibrous strands wrapped around a flexible internal frame.

Several outer fibers had partially separated.

No serious damage.

A massage would have worsened the condition.

"Recovery bed twelve. Low-intensity compression setting. No vibration."

Then came a broad quadruped whose breathing had become shallow because several chest muscles were spasming.

I retained her.

"Lie down."

She obeyed.

I landed against her side, expanded my [Awareness], and identified the affected structures.

No rupture.

No bone damage.

Only a poorly coordinated recovery response after the muscles had been pushed beyond the intensity they were accustomed to.

I manifested a small quantity of [Vitality] and suffused the pulsing gold slivers to enter the tissues.

The spasms eased.

Blood flow stabilized.

The muscles stopped repeatedly contracting against one another.

"If my assumption that you were carrying out weighted breathing resistance is true, then you will need to stop for the next sixty-four hours. Otherwise, you can damage yourself much more severely," I instructed.

She considered that.

Then left for one of the heating chambers.

Another arrived.

Then another.

Humanoid.

Arboreal.

Chitinous.

Gelatinous.

One moved through a wheeled support because its body had no limbs suitable for carrying it at any reasonable pace.

Another possessed eight legs, three of which had been trained more heavily than the others due to a poorly adjusted resistance device.

Some needed cold.

Some heat.

Some manipulation.

Some nutrients.

Some—a majority, to be honest—nothing except confirmation that the sensations they experienced were expected.

Anyone displaying lesions, severe bruising, abnormal internal pressure, torn structures, or anything liable to worsen without intervention remained with me to be examined, diagnosed, and healed when necessary.

Redirected when it wasn't.

Whenever the stream of recovering entities diminished, I left the station under the supervision of its regular attendants and toured the active training floors.

Despite having extensively toured them already, they remained all the more interesting.

Rows of strange devices occupied dozens of massive halls.

Some relied upon weights.

Large blocks connected through cables, pulleys, rotating joints, or [Ether]-forged mechanisms.

Entities lifted them.

Pulled them.

Pushed them.

Carried them through prescribed paths.

Others provided resistance without visible weight.

A limb entered an apparatus.

The apparatus pushed against its movement.

The user responded by pushing harder.

Some machines adjusted the resistance according to the force applied.

Others altered it unpredictably to train reactions rather than maximum output.

There were climbing walls.

Vertical tracks.

Suspended rings.

Rotating platforms.

Pressurized chambers.

Pools whose fluids resisted movement far more strongly than water.

Reinforced lanes where entities sprinted while attached to cords that dragged them backward.

One hall contained nothing but objects intended to be struck.

Another allowed entities to push against immovable surfaces while instruments measured the strain passing through their bodies.

It was truly fascinating.

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Hundreds of entities voluntarily [Tempering] themselves.

Some seeking greater [Strength].

Others [Endurance].

[Speed].

[Flexibility].

[Balance].

[Durability].

[Control].

Their methods differed.

Their physiologies differed even more.

But the broad process remained recognizable.

Apply strain.

Approach a limit.

Recover.

Adapt.

Repeat.

Through my [Awareness], I witnessed those principles expressed in real time.

Muscle fibers recruited in expanding patterns as resistance increased.

Circulation redirected toward active tissues.

Stored energy mobilized.

Heat accumulating.

Breathing accelerating.

Structural tissues stretching.

Minute tears forming.

Chemical signals propagating.

Pain emerging.

Some stopping when it appeared.

Others using it as a measure of how much further they could go.

An individual with a dense mineral exterior repeatedly bent a joint against a weighted mechanism, creating microscopic fractures along the exact lines where greater flexibility was desired.

A winged anthropoid held its wings against a sustained downward current, strengthening muscles analogous to several of my own.

A colony organism distributed strain across hundreds of small bodies linked through a central connective mass.

One plantoid rooted itself into a specialized platform and pulled upward with enough force that its trunk groaned.

Different expressions.

The same broad undertaking.

[Physicality] [Cultivation].

[Tempering].

[Exertion].

I could have watched for hours.

Occasionally, I did.

Today, the stream of patients forced me to return within minutes.

A bruised arm.

An overheated organ.

A torn membrane.

Two cases of harmless pain misinterpreted as injury.

One injury an individual had attempted to dismiss as harmless pain.

I sorted them.

Directed responsibility toward the appropriate facility.

Split it between attendants, trainers, and myself.

That was my primary role here.

Not to heal every minor consequence of [Exertion].

Doing so would have undermined the adaptations most patrons sought.

Neither was it to decide how they should achieve the [Cultivation] of their bodies.

That part belonged to the establishment's trainers.

I existed to ensure that anyone leaving did so without an underlying condition liable to transform ordinary recovery into lasting damage.

A responsibility shifter.

Or splitter.

The establishment wished to sell [Physicality] [Cultivation].

Its patrons wished to pursue it without being crippled by an overlooked mistake.

The trainers wished to guide them without bearing sole responsibility for every physiological complication.

The Pulse wished to prevent avoidable harm...

While being compensated for its presence.

So the fitness center paid the Pulse Of Eternity thousands of credits, and in exchange, it assigned one Aspirant.

And that Aspirant received only a fraction of those credits as part of her ordinary salary.

An arguably wonderful economic model.

Almost competitive with the Faith Of The Aspects's member recruitment scheme, capable of accepting any entities and making them contribute resources, labor, influence, and further recruits.

A self-expanding structure whose growth reinforced its ability to continue growing.

The Pulse's version was smaller.

More specialized.

It trained healers who then allowed the organization to sell safety, treatment, and expertise across Civilization.

Every assignment increased the Pulse's visibility.

Every successfully handled incident reinforced trust.

Every facility protected by the Pulse acquired reasons to retain its services.

Every aspiring healer attracted by its reputation expanded the workforce through which those services were provided.

The Pulse's model possessed advantages.

Just as the Faith's did.

Nevertheless, neither structure was objectively superior.

It was ultimately a question of [Balance], I believed.

And [Purpose].

How far an organization could bend toward sustaining itself before it ceased serving what had justified its creation.

How much profit the Pulse could pursue before healing became secondary to extracting credits.

How aggressively the Faith could recruit before their resource consumption broke its institutions.

One day, when my own [Faith] truly manifested, I would inexorably face similar choices.

Who to target.

What benefits to offer.

What structures to build around [Faith] in me.

How to ensure that the institution furthered my Path without allowing its continued existence to become a burden or birth a [Purpose] independent of mine.

At least those weren't choices to be made today, as I was flitting between the after-[Exertion] recovery station and various halls filled with sweat, impacts, grunts, and cries containing varying mixtures of pain and pleasure.

Watching entities strive for the elevation of their [Physicality]-related Aspects.

Just as I would once more... once I hacked my overdevelopment disorder into oblivion.

Then I would return to everything I was being forced to neglect.

Resistance [Cultivation].

Deprivation [Cultivation].

High-intensity physiological [Cultivation].

Experiments whose only reasonable stopping point was the moment my body failed my [Will].

And all would be supported by my [Vitality] Aspect.

Because this...

The strain.

The bodies being repeatedly pushed, damaged, restored, and strengthened...

It was one of the [Foundation]s of my Path.

Possibly even the first one.

Before my first [Insight]s...

Before I understood Aspects...

Before I knew what [Cultivation] meant...

There had only been [Exertion].

The struggle to move when my body demanded stillness.

To remain conscious when exhaustion pulled me into oblivion.

To seek [Warmth] under the relentless pursuit of [Cold].

To seek sustenance while hunger consumed what little strength I possessed.

To persist despite pain, hunger, and exhaustion, the first obstacles I had conquered.

Not eliminated.

Pain still existed.

Hunger could still be induced.

Exhaustion claimed me at the end of every waking period.

But none controlled me anymore.

I had made them mine.

Just as I had done with every obstacle that followed.

Ignorance.

Powerlessness.

The limits of my physical vessel.

The journey between the Red Sand Sector and the Everwell Sector.

Just like I was now overcoming my inability to access the institutions holding the [Knowledge] I required, my overdevelopment disorder, and my [Vitality] Aspect formation...

Different forms.

Different scales.

Same thing.

Even as a patron approached with a split outer membrane along one arm and I manifested my [Vitality], making the threads of gold enter the lesion before guiding the surrounding tissues toward repair, my thoughts continued unfolding.

On the [Clarity] and certainty with which I knew my Path had stayed true to itself, irrespective of how it had expanded beyond anything my newborn self could have conceived.

The hunger that once defined my existence now barely warranted attention.

The [Exertion] Aspect had been synthesized into the [Cultivation] Aspect.

[Tempering] had done the same.

[Insight] became [Comprehension].

[Perception] became [Awareness].

[Darkness] became [Secrecy].

[Focus] became [Clarity].

I had acquired [Harmony].

[Purity].

[Mastery].

I had entered the Faith.

Left it behind.

Crossed multiple Sectors.

Joined the Pulse.

Became an Aspirant.

Built my own proto-concept of [Vitality].

The form of my Path had shifted repeatedly.

But beneath those changes... the direction had remained fundamentally untouched, as my [Clarity] had never ceased to make me aware of.

The patient flexed his repaired arm.

No weakness.

No leakage.

No instability.

I dismissed him.

The next one took his place.

I continued working.

And further whispers of [Comprehension] continued settling within my Essence.

Perhaps... this was the contradictory quality of my Path.

Not remaining unchanged.

Not because a Path that couldn't change would break when circumstances demanded otherwise.

Not because I rejected outside influence.

Everything I had become was influenced by [Guided], the Faith, the Pulse, the environments I crossed, the books I read, and the entities whose [Knowledge] I claimed, after all.

Also not because since [Harmony] touched my mind, I long since ceased to avoid the many contradictions that mired my Path...

Its...

Essence?

No, it felt wrong to call it that.

Nature?

It felt closer, but not actually there.

[Purity]?

That.

My Path's [Purity] lay deeper.

In the direction that survived every transformation.

Struggle.

Overcome.

Extract all that could further my Path and add it to my [Foundation].

Because all obstacles were ultimately temporary, be it my overdevelopment disorder or my [Vitality] Aspect formation.

Something in my Essence stirred at this familiar [Comprehension], in spite of my certainty that I had already achieved [Mastery] of this exact [Comprehension] before.

With a single thought, a part of my [Awareness] began communing with my Essence, honing in on what changed.

My [Purity] Aspect... had begun advancing.

I turned most of my [Focus] inward, though without fully entering true communion as I was still responsible for the recovery station.

So instead, I maintained enough connection with my Essence to observe the advancement disorder while allowing [Guided] to take over much of my Pulse Aspirant performance.

As a result, while the process remained smooth on the surface, I beheld my [Purity] Aspect unfold through conceptual waves that repeatedly passed across my Essence.

Wherever they touched, distinctions sharpened.

What belonged.

What had been adopted.

What had changed me without defining me.

What had entered my Path and become inseparable from it.

What remained useful but external.

The advancement did not attempt to strip away influence.

It shone a light of [Clarity] on everything I integrated and made mine while manifesting my [Comprehension] of my Path's [Purity] not necessarily being about the absence of everything else in strange ways.

I didn't insist upon grasping exactly where my [Purity] Aspect was heading.

The advancement disorder itself made certainty premature.

Another patient arrived with bruising extending beneath a rigid outer shell.

[Guided] made me scan him.

No fracture.

No internal rupture.

Cold treatment.

[Guided] then sent him onward.

Hours passed.

My body continued moving.

Flying.

Landing.

Examining.

Directing.

Healing.

Only a slight daze distinguished my current state from any ordinary assignment.

Not that anyone, even the station's attendants I was moderately familiar with, likely perceived any of it.

My [Awareness] handled the patients.

[Guided] corrected whatever my divided [Focus] risked overlooking.

All while within my Essence, my [Purity] Aspect continued deepening.

It passed through my [Vitality] concept.

Through the many adjustments made to fit plantoid tissue.

Fairy tissue.

Blood.

Muscle.

Organs.

Through the principles I had incorporated from hundreds of species.

Through contradictions resolved by accepting that different living structures required different expressions.

And still...

Something remained consistent.

The conceptual core I had been trying to isolate since the beginning.

Not health.

Not healing.

Not growth.

Not survival at any cost.

Something capable of passing through all those expressions without being reduced to any one of them.

My [Purity] Aspect rippled again.

Then settled.

Aspect Advanced: [Purity] (Tier 0) ➞ [Purity] (Tier 1)

The advancement ended just like that.

But its consequences didn't.

Its ripples continued to echo and propagate through my Essence.

Its influence touched my [Cultivation] Aspect.

My [Comprehension] Aspect.

My [Mastery] Aspect.

My [Harmony] Aspect.

My [Clarity] Aspect.

My [Will] Aspect.

My [Ambition] Aspect.

All my Aspects.

Resonating through connections that had already existed but hadn't previously carried enough weight to become obvious.

My thoughts were becoming increasingly distant from the world within my [Awareness], absorbed into the overlapping echoes rippling inside my Essence.

My [Purity] Aspect clarified something within my [Comprehension].

That [Comprehension] altered how my [Mastery] Aspect grasped my concept of [Vitality].

My [Harmony] Aspect connected the change to my [Cultivation].

My [Will] reacted to the increasingly coherent structure.

My [Ambition] recognized its alignment with the deepest direction of my Path.

Over and over again, the ripples reinforced one another, pulling my [Focus] further and further inward.

While I experienced this new state of being, the stream of patrons gradually diminished as the establishment approached the end of the busy period I had been assigned to oversee.

I examined the final serious injury.

A torn internal support strand.

I repaired it.

Recorded the procedure.

Transferred responsibility for the station back to its regular attendants.

Then found refuge inside one of the fitness halls designed for the [Cultivation] of climbing capabilities, by perching on top of one of the platforms that wasn't even connected to a climbing course.

Finally, I allowed the echoes to meet without restraint.

My [Clarity] deepened.

The world faded from my [Awareness].

Then, as I slid into an in-between state that was halfway into communion and pure contemplation, I touched upon something deeper.

A [Comprehension] in the process of becoming one.

One involving many things.

My original [Exertion].

The first desperate adaptations of my body.

The [Tempering] through which I damaged myself to recover stronger.

The [Cultivation] Aspect formed from everything those practices became.

My [Ambition] to exceed every limitation.

My [Will] to impose that [Ambition].

My [Purity] now clarifying the direction that connected all of it.

And in the midst of it all, maybe due to it being at the center of my thoughts at all times...

[Vitality].

The concept I had assembled from an ocean of [Life] [Knowledge] I had attained many [Comprehension]s of and that set me down the Path of just as many [Mastery].

Energy transformed into persistence.

Recovery.

Adaptation.

Identity maintained through change.

The capacity to endure consequences without being diminished beyond recovery.

Those principles hadn't been selected merely because they produced a functional healing force.

They resembled the structure of [Life] that my Path had always demanded.

From my earliest moments...

I had not sought to avoid strain.

I had sought to survive it.

Not to remain untouched.

To recover.

Not to preserve one unchanging state.

To adapt without becoming something that no longer served my Path.

Not to escape every consequence.

To possess enough force that consequences could be endured, understood, and turned into further growth.

My concept of [Vitality] had not developed separately from my original drive.

It had been shaped by it.

Every decision.

Every correction.

Every principle I accepted or discarded.

All had been filtered through the same direction that once made a starving infant continue moving.

The connection seemed obvious.

That didn't mean it was complete.

Obvious things could conceal endless errors.

My [Comprehension] Aspect ensured I recognized that.

So I didn't force the conclusion.

I let it exist.

Let the pieces settle around one another.

Let [Purity] distinguish what truly belonged from what merely sounded appropriate.

Let [Harmony] preserve the relationships.

Let [Mastery] test whether I commanded them.

Let [Guided] retrieve whatever I had overlooked.

The echoes spread through my Essence.

My [Vitality] concept responded.

But it no longer felt like a structure I had assembled and repeatedly imposed upon myself.

For several moments...

It felt like evidence.

Evidence of something my Path had been expressing since its beginning.

A concept that hadn't been invented from nothing.

Only uncovered.

Refined.

Given enough [Knowledge] and [Comprehension] to finally take form through sheer [Mastery].

The ripples slowly weakened.

I still couldn't grasp the whole of what approached.

But I could sense its proximity.

The way countless threads had stopped extending outward and begun curving toward the same point.

The way my Aspects no longer merely supported the formation of [Vitality], but appeared to define a place within my Essence where it belonged.

The way its concept resonated with the [Purity] of my Path.

I was not there.

Not yet.

But...

I was nearly there.