Conquering death. The purpose was more arrogant than my self-assessment. It was the type of goal that would take lifetimes to work on. A purpose so far out of my reach I would have to devote myself entirely to it.

Was it possible? In a way, yes. I was getting closer to saving my friends. I just needed to keep working hard and not waste any cycle.

Did it motivate me? Absolutely. It might be selfish, but I'd spent enough time living alone and missed Lana. I also knew she hated death as much as I did. She felt like death haunted her, nipping at her heels and robbing her of life. She accepted it as part of life but was eager to find a way to find some security in life—a guarantee that one day, all things wouldn't come to an end, a rope out of the great abyss. I didn't feel like death haunted me, though it claimed just about everyone I cared about. Death was a callous and uncaring fate. A fate I was terrified to reach.

My grand scheme was perfect. Now, it was a matter of aligning all of my desires to this one end. If a desire didn't push me toward my one purpose, it was tailored to help me reach my goal or cut entirely. Fortunately, there weren't many desires that needed to be cut outright. I was already committed to my cause, and my secondary goals, like running a map shop, had been pushed to the side.

The map shop, in particular, was hard to let go of, and I knew a part of me was lost with it. The shop represented a lackadaisical life that I loved. However, with what I learned about the future, there wouldn't be much of an easy life ahead. Once I saved my friends, we would have assassins to fight, a Shadow Plague, an invasion, and the devourers to face.

Conquering death would be a long, endless battle. In my empty realm, I forged my mind into a new essence that would push me through the challenges I would face.

Along with attuning my desires, I adapted the essence of my mind to synergize with the essence of body and spirit. The key was balance. I was already convinced the concept was important. It was just a matter of solidifying the idea. It also helped that I believed balance would help me the most in my primary goal.

I spent seven days purifying my mind. I carefully molded my desires and crafted my thoughts. My pillars floated in the orb of water, shining brilliantly together. The golden pillars were tightly aligned, even without threads tying them together. I smiled, knowing I was on the right path. If I had the threads right, I would have a golden mind.

According to Calypso, there were three ranks to reforging minds: bronze, silver, and gold. The ranks which a cultivator obtained depended on prior cultivation, talent, technique, and harmony. A pure mind cultivator would have a much easier time obtaining a golden mind. I believed talent and harmony carried me through the process, helping me get the results I had so far. I stayed true to myself and only amplified my desires. I was also depending on talent and harmony to carry me through the next portion of the process.

I turned to the furnace, burning the threads that used to weave my pillars together.

The fire was orange, burning hotter than anything I'd experienced before. Fueling the fire was the molten remains of my mind pathways.

It was a bit odd conceptualizing the pathways like this, years of meditation, studying, growing, and applying knowledge were burning away inside a fire I created with thought. I tried not to think about it too deeply, fearful that I might break focus. Instead, I fed the fire with more will, amplifying the flames.

As I gazed into the flame, I could feel it hungering for more. I dumped every shred of will I had into the furnace. The flame turned yellow, radiating heat that filled the metaphysical realm. It hungered for more. I had no more will to feed it, so I dumped all of my desires. The furnace crackled and popped. A heavy smoke puffed into the air, forming an ominous cloud swept away by a developing breeze. Yellow flames burned through my dreams, adding them to the molten mix of my pathways and will.

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The heat was nearly unbearable, but I could not pry myself to look away. I was fascinated with the furnace. I could feel so much of myself inside the fire and instinctively knew that what I saw was not enough. The flame was not hot enough, and my reforging attempt would've been incomplete if I had stopped now. However, all that I had left were my pillars.

The golden orbs that represented the pillars of my mind had already been stripped of the purpose I used to bind them together. Still, they remained tightly connected.

I'd already strayed from the path of reforging that I'd practiced before. After purifying my pillars and threads, all that was left was forging them back together. I studied the furnace before me, hoping to gain a semblance of understanding. The purifying was complete. So why did it feel like the fire still wanted more? I had nothing else to give except my pillars—the very foundations of my mind.

Instinctively, I backed away from the furnace. The thought scared me to no end. I couldn't just throw my memories, beliefs, character, and preferences into the fire. They would be burned away. I'd already established that I was happy with who I was. I couldn't afford to risk my identity. If I lost myself, what would be the point?

A powerful force pushed me from behind. It constantly nipped at my back, urging me closer to the furnace. I resisted at first and then gave in. One step at a time, I felt the pull of the fire. Sweat dripped from every inch of my body. The furnace called to me, begging me for more. It needed more fuel. It desired more.

More. More. More, the fire called. Pulling. Urging. Pleading.

I couldn't resist. I didn't want to resist but was scared of the consequences of giving in. I'd done enough… hadn't I? The process was over.

What if there's more. A cold chill ran through my body. You could be more. Give me more.

Not knowing what else to do, I let the furnace pull at my being. Layers of metaphysical flesh were fed to the fire, stripping me of the body I inhabited. At first, the lack of response to the flame led me to believe I was burning nothing. Several minutes passed, and I no longer dwelled in a body—existing as only a thought. The fire roared and turned into a white flame.

More. I feared the desire stemming from the furnace. I knew it wasn't satiated even as I watched the flame transform. Now that so much of myself was invested in the process, it was clear what was needed. More than fearing the flame, I feared being inadequate.

What if I wasn't enough for the task I'd set out on? I had the opportunity, but that didn't mean I had the capability. What if I became a conqueror of stars and still couldn't save my friends? Would I look back at this day full of regret? I needed to trust myself.

More.

I let go of my doubts and fears and fed my memories, beliefs, personality, and preferences into the furnace. The golden pillars basked in the molten bath as white flames danced. To my dismay, the pillars didn't melt. The fire grew hotter and hotter until it burst into blue-violet flame. The molten liquid boiled and churned. Smoke that filled the space before was gone. A strong wind pushed at my consciousness. Steam filled the furnace and attached it to my pillars. As they were drawn to the golden orbs, they were absorbed. Little by little, the molten pool evaporated and condensed into my pillars. As the process drew on, my golden pillars changed. They turned platinum.

I watched in shock, filled with excitement. Gold was the highest rank in the reforging process. A golden mind was perfect. Staring at the platinum pillars, I knew my mind had transcended into a higher realm of being. I reached a rank higher than gold.

More. The demand for more did not come as a shock. My platinum mind was missing one last piece. No longer scared, I stopped resisting the storm behind me and let my consciousness get pulled into the furnace.