John was expecting more fighting practice but the next few lessons were something entirely different, though perhaps not entirely unexpected. John found himself sitting cross-legged for hours at a time trying to feel the frustratingly vaguely described “energy” or “Si” described by the Supervisor. There was some sort of warmth in his chest, throbbing to a rhythm between his heartbeat and breathing, but trying to grasp it properly eluded him. Frustrated he tried to breathe faster hoping that the increased speed would somehow bring him the enlightenment that seemed to actively spite him. The Supervisor who was watching him tutted with disappointment when he saw John attempting to cultivate by hyperventilating.
“You still lack so much patience boy, it’s like you expect to reach Heaven in a day!” the Supervisor scolded, lightly smacking John on the back of his head.
“I have been sitting here for kracking hours and I still don’t feel any ‘cycling’! What am I meant to do?” John complained.
“You are only on the Seventh Step of course it is hard to feel anything! You barely have enough rads in you to be a proper cultivator! The third trial of the Lead Cave Sect has aspirants sealed in the Sacred Cave for a week, if you do not properly build a foundation and expand your reserves you would die before they even drag you out!” the Supervisor chastised.
Grumbling John decided arguing further wasn’t going to achieve anything and refocused his attention to the growing yet still stubbornly inactive warmth in his core. With a deep breath in, John once more closed his eyes and dived deep within himself. Si, Rads, Demonic energy, internally John decided the best name for the energy that powered Cultivators was bullshit.
----------------------------------------
Breathlessly John ducked out of the way of the Supervisor’s attack, sweat soaking through his clothes as he once more just barely dodged another blow. Thanks to the Supervisor’s advice he had grown leaps and bounds, but the gulf between them was still incredible. He had tried many strategies, aimed at different angles, even at one point attempted to set up an ambush, but each time it was like the Supervisor had a sixth sense to figure out where he was, and indeed that may well have been the case.
Every now and then the Supervisor would pause his assault and leave a small opening, during those moments John would do his best to hit him. The reedy form of the Supervisor easily dodged every attack but John could feel himself getting closer. Once he would only hit air and dust, but hours of practice have revealed the fruits of his efforts when he felt cloth briefly brush against his knuckle. He was so close he could practically taste it, now if only he could be just a little bit faster…
He felt the Relic clench in preparation and mentally panicked walking back on his thoughts before he could make the same mistake he made the first time he sparred with the Supervisor again. Not yet! He couldn’t afford to go past his limits yet, not so early in the fight!
In his desperation John failed to notice the Supervisor’s third arm reaching over from behind his back. Unable to properly react John only managed to turn his head before having his skull unceremoniously slammed into the dirt.
“You seem distracted young John, is something the matter?” the Supervisor asked,
Spitting out some bloody saliva as he rose from the crater formed from his head John replied, “I’m fine!”
The Supervisor gave a skeptic look but ultimately simply shrugged, knowing he was unlikely to get more information if he pushed, “Very well then, rest now, we’ll start again once you have recovered.”
----------------------------------------
The routine of spars then meditation continued as days bled into weeks trickling into months. John grew and he couldn't help but notice so too did the mass of crimson cable and metal on his arm. One meditation session John considered what had happened during nearly every spar, the Relic was his greatest strength right now, but he barely understood it. It could well become a crutch or worse even a handicap. When the outcome of a fight depends on every little choice how could he afford to lose control? He needed to find strength without relying on a wonder from the Golden Age, and suddenly he could appreciate all the lessons on building a foundation that the Supervisor gave. Feeling the pool of warmth in his core pulse rhythmically with every breath as he took in the radiation in the air and dust John wondered idly what would happen if he tried to push it in a different direction…
Slowly he could feel the pulsing push a different direction, moving like a maggot towards wherever he directed it. His right arm, engulfed by the Relic, felt paradoxically clear, the energy freely moving through it as though it were the most natural thing, but everywhere else it was like trying to push something through tar. Inch by inch John felt the energy pulse until it hit what felt like a wall a little over the elbow, and with one final shove something like a dam burst within his body, erupting with a flare of white hot agony.
Knocked onto the floor by the sudden pain, tears welling in his eyes, John saw the murky shape of the Supervisor rush over towards him.
“What happened? John, what happened?” the Supervisor asked helping John to his feet and checking him all over,
“I-I don’t know Supervisor… I was trying to move the energy I felt in my core and I…” John stuttered, looking towards his left arm which had now been covered with a spiderweb of blackened veins, thick blood oozing from his fingertips,
The Supervisor’s eyes opened in shock, “Did you open a Meridian when you haven’t even properly mastered the art of cycling your Si! Whatever possessed you to push after feeling a wall?” the Supervisor asked,
“Well, I felt the energy move fine through my right arm, and honestly it wasn’t so hard to break the wall on the left, I thought it was just moving slower!” John explained awkwardly,
The Supervisor squinted his eyes, tearing his shirt he revealed a massive pale eye on his chest which joined his upper eyes in investigating John, “The Relic seems to have in some way tapped into the natural meridians of your arm and are affecting the way your body responds to radiation, I apologise for not looking into this earlier but this is likely related to you apparently skipping the Sixth Step. No wonder you are having so much trouble cycling, your cultivation so far has been built on a shortcut!”
“What should I do then?” John asked, arm still burning.
“Since you can apparently already feel your Meridians I need you to focus all your energy into your core, until you master the basics you should not be able to freely and safely move your Si around your body, but clearly so far you have been skipping that step. If you want a proper foundation you cannot build it on a shortcut John, I will be here to help if you need anything more.” the Supervisor explained.
Closing his eyes once more and trying to ignore the pain in his left arm John focused on pulling all his energy to his core, finding a small thread of energy going to his right arm and tugging at the connection in an attempt to draw it back. Immediately he found results, instead of pulsing and throbbing he could feel the radiation within gently spinning, weakly and slowly cycling but cycling nonetheless! He also felt a heaviness to his right arm, its familiar weight suddenly becoming alien to him.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
[POWER SOURCE FLUCTUATING, LIMITED POWER SUPPLY]
[HOST COMPATIBILITY DROPPING: 84%]
[ADAPTING…]
John could feel something in his right arm digging deeper within his body and quickly stopped holding his Si back. The cycling slowed to a pathetic crawl as it was once more spread between body and limb, the little pool of warmth returning to a gently pulsating state, though now John could confidently say he could feel something cycling within.
[POWER SUPPLY REESTABLISHED]
But now he had different worries.
----------------------------------------
There were no spars the next few weeks, the Supervisor going between meditation lessons and long hours spent pouring over the Relic, trying to find out just how deep its influence goes. John’s left arm was still sore, though not injured to the point of near uselessness anymore, and his body could certainly appreciate a break from the strain of combat. Still, he found himself once more craving the rush of adrenaline, and some ugly part of him deep within reared its head at the excuse to call him useless, a boy who relies on a crutch he could not understand. With this growing thought gnawing at him John found himself once more restless in meditation, unable to focus on anything but the alien mass growing on his arm. Progress had been made in cycling his Si, but John simply felt disconnected from it all, fear and insecurity ruling his mind.
“Help me understand, what even are you?” he found himself asking one night, drifting between consciousness and lucidity.
Of course silence followed and John closed his eyes ready for sleep to take him when…
[ARTOS: AUTOMATIC REACTIVE TECHNO-ORGANIC SYMBIOTE. DEVELOPED TO HELP THE FIGHTING FORCES OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IN THE CHANGING BATTLEFIELD, AS A SYMBIOTIC UNIT ARTOS INTERFACES WITH EVERY SYSTEM OF THE BODY THROUGH NERVOUS AND ENDOCRINE SIGNALS TO ACQUIRE DATA ON SHIFTING BATTLEFIELD DEMANDS AND PRODUCE AN APPROPRIATE RESPONSE.]
Jolting upright suddenly slamming his head on the canvas of the tent John barely resisted the urge to scream which would have woken up the rest of the camp,
“You can… talk?” John asked quietly,
[THE BASE ARTOS PROGRAMMING IS CAPABLE OF LIMITED INDEPENDENT INFORMATION PROCESSING AND COMMUNICATION. DECREASING HOST COMPATIBILITY HAS INITIATED NEURAL NETWORK REMODELLING AND INCREASED NEURAL PLASTICITY ALLOWING FOR GREATER HOST COMMUNICATION TO BETTER DIAGNOSE AND REMEDY THE SOURCE OF THE INSTABILITY]
To be honest John couldn’t understand half those words, but he was glad he could have the chance to understand his relic better, “How are you hearing me without… ears”
[ARTOS LACKS EXTERNAL AUDITORY SENSORS BUT THE ARTOS NEURAL INTERFACE ALLOWS FOR COMMUNICATION THROUGH THOUGHT PATTERNS]
So I just have to think and you could understand? John thought, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the implications.
[AFFIRMATIVE! ARTOS USER MANUAL SHOULD HAVE COME WITH A PRIVACY POLICY, NONETHELESS WE APOLOGISE FOR ANY DISCOMFORT, WOULD YOU LIKE TO DISABLE COMMUNICATION?]
No no! We do need to talk, there’s actually a lot I needed to talk about!
[UNDERSTOOD. QUERY?]
You say you are a… what was it… symbiote? But so far you have been feeling more like a… what was the term… parasite! You take Si from me, during fights you sometimes take control away from me and you made changes to me that I don’t understand!
[PROCESSING…]
I appreciate what you have done and that you are trying to help, but I would like a bit more control you know? I don’t want to rely on you and not be able to find my own strength, especially when I still don’t really know what you are!
[COMPLAINT FILED… SUGGESTION: LEVEL 3 AND ABOVE ENHANCEMENTS ONLY TO BE APPLIED WITH EXPLICIT CONSENT BARRING LETHAL SCENARIOS]
Honestly I don’t like how that wasn’t the case beforehand, but well, it’s a start John thought to himself, and thus also the machine residing in his body, Also, ARTOS, can you give me some privacy when I am not talking to you? It is a bit creepy.
[NOTED.]
It was truly odd how snarky ARTOS could sound without any voice.
----------------------------------------
The Supervisor glared daggers into John’s right arm as he explained the little “talk” that happened between them. The Supervisor’s third eye was out again, scanning John in and out seeming to bore deep beneath the skin. For all he knew of course that may very well be what it was doing.
“Well I am glad you have come to an… understanding. Truthfully I was close to calling in some old contacts to look at it, have it removed if I must, though with how closely it is entwined with you I doubt that would be wise.” the Supervisor admitted flatly,
“It called itself ARTOS, I think, that is it’s name… title? It means something, most of that I forgot, but it said it was a symbiote which apparently means it attaches to me to help?” John elaborated somewhat unhelpfully,
“Hm, well it certainly isn’t the worst case scenario, still you should probably keep an eye on it should it develop any further than it already has, I am sure you have heard the tales.” the Supervisor noted, “In any case you appear to have been cycling well now, I can see the flow of radiation within your core has become strong and the meridians opened by that ARTOS relic as well as your own… explorations… are beginning to flow more naturally. Now there is only one more thing you need to do to fully solidify your foundations.” the Supervisor said while observing closely with his third eye, the lens of the extra organ glowing with a soft sickly green light as he did.
“And what would that be?” John asked,
The Supervisor retrieved a small flask filled with a golden fluid that stunk to high heaven to the enhanced senses even through the cork seal. He swished it around as if to inspect it a few times before handing it to John, “This is an elixir I have procured from the fermented core of that Spirit Beast you slew, drink it to prepare for the next phase of setting your foundation.”
Screwing his face in disgust as the foul fumes wafted close to his nose, nonetheless John shut his eyes and gulped the vile concoction down with a grimace. He held in the urge to puke, but the burning deep within his chest somehow felt worse than if he had thrown up. A fire spread in his blood, and immediately John felt light headed, nauseous and oddly empowered.
“For reasons unknown cultivators grow best in the face of conflict.” the Supervisor explained as the elixir raged its way through John’s system, “The spars and the meditation have shaped your foundation, turned your flesh into a forge by which you will craft your fate. The ambient radiation and the power in this elixir are the materials you will heat in this forge so that they may be shaped. Now comes the shaping of your foundation and like steel to be shaped one must hammer it under the heat of battle, be ready John, I will allow you to make the first strike!”
John’s eyes darted back and forth, even while standing still doing absolutely nothing the Supervisor seemed like an imposing presence, suffocating his thoughts. Pushing down the paralysing fear momentarily, John found the courage to set into a familiar fighting stance, then for the very first time since he began to train he made the first move bursting forth with all he got.
It was naturally insufficient.
The Supervisor flipped through the air, grabbing John by the collar of his worn work shirt in the process, which was then followed by throwing him into the air. Somehow John managed to land on his feet, disoriented and unsteady but nonetheless on his feet, just in time for the next attack. The Supervisor on account of his unbalanced body preferred to attack on the right, and so John dodged left narrowly avoiding a powerful strike. Clearly the Supervisor was no longer holding back so much, however John was not the same boy he was when he started this journey, deep within he felt that he could do this!
Retaliating with a set of easily dodged strikes John realised that just as he was used to the patterns of the Supervisor, so too was the Supervisor used to him, his attacks fell into certain patterns that the far more experienced man could easily predict, at this rate nothing was going to hit and this would become a war of attrition he was not prepared to face. There was only one clear option for victory, and that was to break the patterns!
Sliding to the corner of the makeshift arena John ducked under a swing from his opponent, but instead of wasting time with a retaliation he swept his foot to kick down an old rotting tree. Briefly he saw the Supervisor’s eyes widen in surprise as the tree fell into the dirt throwing a billowing cloud of dust into the air. Of course between the natural enhanced senses of a cultivator and the third eye, doubtless a potent mutation, John did not expect the dust to do much to dull the Supervisor’s vision. All he needed rather was a brief distraction, because with his lopsided form the Supervisor was always just a little slower to guard his left…
[PERMISSION TO ACTIVATE LEVEL 4 SPEED AND REFLEX ENHANCEMENT?]
Granted!
[ADRENALINE RUSH INITIATED]
Time once more slowed to a crawl, and John felt his Si cycle faster in an attempt to keep up with his accelerated movements. The burning from the elixir was nothing compared to the burning his body felt as he pushed even past the heightened limits provided by ARTOS, he saw the three eyes of the Supervisor slowly turn tracking their way through the dust, but just ever so slightly slower than his own movement. The Supervisor turned his body, moved his arms to protect his side, blood erupted from a cobweb of scars on John’s left arm as the rapidly moving energy within him pushed against every vessel in his body until…
Something broke, a dam burst, and abruptly John’s world went crashing down as the flow of time returned to normal. Blood soaked his rags, he could feel something wet dripping from his eyes, ears and nose, but he had done it. The Supervisor lay on his side clutching his bruised side, a proud smile beaming on his face, and John couldn’t help but smile too even as his vision blurred,
“Congratulations John, welcome to the 8th step!” the Supervisor said proudly, “Now that we are done with your foundations we can start worrying about passing the trials!”
John wanted to ask something about what the hell all the training up to this point was then, but he didn’t manage to get much of a word out before passing out unceremoniously on the floor, facefirst into a pile of dry splinters and short green grass.