By the 27th dawn, the inhabitants of Lamplight Isla had achieved the impossible; by the 30th, the last of the base was being stored within the Dimensional Ring.
The Monk needed to pursue their own goals, the Professor had gotten a firm grasp on his Cultivation, and Momo was hungry.
So hungry, she got into the MREs the night before and reduced her parent's rations from months to days.
So, the time had come to set sail for Olympia Capital city. They only needed to accomplish a final errand or two.
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The Professor's hand gripped the wooden grate above their heads, one leg already on the makeshift step ladder. Yet, the man made no move to push aside the cut piece of Pillar root being used as the tunnel's trap door. Instead, he insisted on hearing out his partner's plea… again.
"Morgan, I'm telling you we should consider heading true South from Lamplight before anything else." Ego insisted for the 7th time since he'd woken up that morning. "I have a good feeling about that direction."
He rubbed the scar on his nose in preparation for having this same exact discussion for the 7th time.
"Your intuition aside, I'm telling you strategically, heading West is the best option. Trinity's Crucible is the furthest island from here, and if we need to turn back for any reason, we'll have to cover less distance. Plus," the Professor added quickly before they could argue, "if we go South and need to retreat for any reason, Hell's Garden will be the first-"
Morgan wouldn't get to finish as their third member, sitting on top of his head, decided to give her opinion.
"Mer!" Momo half growled, half barked, for her parent and that chatty Spirit to stop dragging their feet and hurry out of this claustrophobia-inducing tunnel.
"Have patience, young Momo." Chided Ego, after patiently locking eyes with the hangry Beast resting on her mobile throne. "I know you're anxious to revisit the Swamp, but finalizing our travel plans is just as important."
Morgan knew the Spirit was tempting Fate by not only daring to use the personal nickname but to do so while lecturing the reptile took some spine. And indeed, he felt her tail wrapped around his arm tighten in irate protest. However that was as far as she went.
Since the Ceremony, Morgan had noticed a change in the relationship between the two. Something had happened during his forced nap, and while things hadn't become friendly per se, Momo was less willing to strike at the smallest of provocations. It wasn't much of a change, but progress was progress.
"Tell you what Princess, you break the tie." He said, letting go of the grate to bring a fist up to either side of her head. Wiggling the left fist first, he posed the question, "After we grab some Hoppers for you to snack on, do you think we should go West or South?"
Not needing to deliberate like some bipedal people she knew, Momo licked the right fist. The Professor tisked at being outvoted, while the Monk bowed to Momo.
"Thank you for trusting in my intuition again, little Princess."
"Mmm…" She growled begrudgingly before pointing at the exit with her tail and flexing her toes with unspoken meaning.
Taking the hint, Morgan pushed the grate aside and climbed out of the hole. Only to be surprised by what greeted them when their heads poked above ground.
"Ego, it's getting foggy again." He reported before climbing the rest of the way up. "Looks like the island is on the med from the flood."
Around the Scientist, the land around the cave had changed considerably since their arrival. Where a dense fog once drowned the ground and obscured the sun was now only a hazy wisp of its former glory.
Sunbeams, hardly hindered by the mist produced by the willows, descended from the canopy gaps to shine a dozen spotlights on the forest floor. A floor that looked untouched around the hole but starting half a meter in any direction had much of its pale mossy leaf litter, and smaller Lamp-plants washed away. Thanks to visibility currently near perfect, one could find much of the displaced dead wood and foliage deposited in loose rings around them as the flood waters gradually receded.
Those rings suggest that this section of land had the highest elevation on the island, sparing the trio from drowning below the earth. Which would be a very… lucky coincidence. Especially considering that, even now, Morgan couldn't see how the ground he stood on was in any way higher than the rest.
"Oh good!" Exclaimed the Spirit from below before manifesting on the stump with hands in sleeves and a too big glowing smile as they looked around. "I was worried the Storm caused some permanent damage."
"Same here."
"Mmm." Grumbled Momo.
A light breeze, carrying the smell of the salty sea, blew through as they gave each other pointed looks. For they all knew the Storm was code for the alien presence that invaded the island in search of Morgan.
At some time, either during or just after his connecting to the Dao, much of Lamplight Isla became partially submerged. A flood that shocked the fog-producing trees into a dormant state, apparently until that morning. A flood the trio agreed was likely caused by that malevolent entity. However, the Monk forbade them all from speaking directly about the presence, as Ego feared doing so might bring unwanted attention. Morgan agreed, for now, at least.
"Momo." Said Morgan after the silence went on a beat too long for comfort. "Why don't you meet us at the northern beach? Go explore a bit and stretch your legs before we have to spend a couple of days trapped on the raft."
*Pop*
The weight on his shoulders vanished shortly before another 'pop' could be heard further into the forest.
"I guess she thought it was a good idea." Murmured Ego while Morgan placed the trapdoor over the hole. "Or she wants some space after being stuck in the cave for three days."
"All children crave independence and privacy at some point." He sighed, shoveling what little debris remained over the entrance. With any luck, the cave under Lamplight would remain hidden, and there wouldn't be any surprise Harpies should they return. "Alright, let's go get the solar generator."
Morgan turned to walk towards the island's South side, only to find the Monk grinning knowingly at him. There was a playful snicker in their tone when they asked,
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
Morgan looked at the concealed entrance tunnel, a prickle of irritation rising as he answered in a dry tone, "Ego if you saw that I forgot something important in the cave and didn't tell me, I swear I will find a way to exorcize you."
"Hee-hee! Don't be so serious. I was only going to remind you to use Breath like you asked me to."
Frowning, he took out the depleted phone to use as a mirror as he triggered Perception of the Stone Sage to examine his Foundations. Ever since obtaining some understanding of the Concept of Curiosity, the reflection he saw staring back had changed dramatically.
image [https://i.imgur.com/xazqmpG.jpeg]
Besides, a white glow surrounding Morgan's silhouette and outlining his eyes, the structures representing the Body, Mind, and Soul had experienced the most alterations.
What he called green roots before had nearly doubled in girth and became more organized, the twisting Qi-filled strands almost resembling the nervous system if drawn from a doctor's memory. His single band of Mana had become a halo of five individual rings, with the outermost ring now thicker than the rest. The Soul was now two separate layers, the inner red flames unwilling to mix with the yellow like before.
While the still unexplained changes made the Scientist proud and confused, they weren't what he was checking.
"I told you to remind me to use Breath after I stop using other Techniques to keep my batteries full. Infusing Aether now would be a waste as all my Prana energies are infused to maximum capacity." Morgan reported before disabling the Bloodline and cocking an eyebrow at Ego. "Is your memory going faulty, Monk?"
"The only one with the faulty memory is the old man." They sniff at his accusation. "Not only can I recall the request's exact wording, but I also recall a certain someone saying how it was always wise to keep up good habits no matter what. Any idea who I'm referencing?"
Damn it, they had him there.
"Yeah, someone who should have kept his big mouth shut," Morgan grumbled.
"Your words, not mine. Also, I believe the same old man said that the greatest strength of the Technique was the fact he could use it whenever he wanted, then proceeded to never use it until-"
"Alright, I get it, I could use the practice." He cut them off before they could get deeper into the nagging. "I'll use Breath on the way to South Beach; just don't expect me to be a chatterbox on the way."
"Not a problem, dear Professor." Grinned the Monk with a twinkle in their gaze, Morgan didn't like. "We both know the Technique takes a discernible amount of concentration. Since you'll need to improve multitasking anyway, why don't we do this? I'll speak, you'll listen, and we can see how much of the conversation you can retain when we get to the beach. A sort of retention test."
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
HA! Now, this was definitely a trap. The Professor didn't know how it could be, but he was sure of it, which only meant there was one way to find out.
"Sure." Morgan shrugged, expecting them to take the chance to go over their plans when visiting the Capital city. Assuming they could find it before he starved to death.
"Excellent!" Praised the Monk, clapping him on the shoulders. "You know, with all the crunch time spent fine-tuning your other Techniques, I was worried we might not have time to start the Cultivator etiquette lessons."
All the blood in his body froze upon realizing how Ego had got him hook, line, and sinker. Naturally, the agreement wasn't a binding Oath like the one they both had sworn to each other, and Morgan could back out without repercussions. But that damned Monk knew he wouldn't.
His mismatched glare settled on the sly Spirit, "You crafty little-"
"I hear a whole lot of talking when I should be hearing the sound of a Soul obeying its Sovereign." Ego almost sang in glee as they started pushing Morgan southward. "Now let's start with the proper greeting most Vajrayians use in…"
As the insidious Monk began their first of many lessons, the unviewed Soul of the budding Cultivator was already springing into action.
Being the Technique that infused Aether into his natural energies, Breath was the cornerstone of the Professor's original Cultivation Method. A method that the trio still needed to brainstorm a name for. Morgan had suggested 'the Way of the Frankenstein' since the method was crafted by a mad scientist, spit in the face of societal morals, and was a complex collection of stolen parts. However, the name felt too long.
Regardless, after spending an entire day understanding the data taken from Beasts and the lessons learned from their mistakes, Morgan and Ego developed a five-stage process that worked.
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While listening, walking, and trying to recall whatever Latin was needed to drive off the evil Spirit, lecturing him on proper speaking order, Morgan began the Formation stage. He willed the red layer of his Soul to condense into a single orb of Essence at the center of his torso, right below the rib cage. From there the orb split into two, one containing ⅔ the total amount of Essence and the other made of the remaining third.
Like a veteran sculptor on the pottery wheel, the Professor separated the larger orb into five equal pieces before molding them into highly accurate hollow models of the stomach, lungs, spine, brain, and heart. Based on many test runs, he found that realism didn't make the Essence constructs more effective, but decided it never hurt to go the extra distance, which was why each hollow organ was placed overlapping their fleshy counterpart.
Sadly, the resemblance to biology ended there, as the remaining red Prana energy was used to craft six artery-like tubes, each a finger-width thick. One tube was placed within the actual sinus cavity and intersected each Lung on the way down before finally connecting to the top middle of the Stomach. Three more tubes are connected to the bottom of the Stomach with the other ends connected to the Spine, Brain, and Heart. The last two tubes had one end at the mouth while the other end was fixed, at no surprise, to the top of the Stomach.
Molding and manipulating his Soul like clay was relatively easy; constantly willing the Soul to maintain the desired shapes was less so. Imagine being expected to live out one's daily routine while an album's worth of different songs played constantly within the mind. Thankfully, stage two, Collection, alleviated some mental strain by allowing the Professor to synchronize using Breath with his actual breathing. Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth.
Morgan emptied his real lungs of air and willed the Essence copy to mimic the constrictive movement before undoing the work when breathing in. While his Bloodline was deactivated, the Scientist knew all the ambient Aether within ten meters of him were suddenly jerked towards him. Like biological lungs with air, the Essence Lungs created a vacuum that Aether abhorred. After several breaths, the Professor literally hoovered the cosmic energy into the Lungs and down into the Stomach for stage three.
Revolution. The process by which the ambient Aether, or Raw Aether as Morgan had started to refer to it as, was scrubbed clean of Impurities before moving to the next stage. Despite his best attempts, Morgan could not get his Soul to mimic the properties of stomach acid like Beasts. Nor could he burn Raw Aether to extract the pure energy as the Spirits do. Whether the problem lay in him specifically, in being Human, or just being a Mortal, he had no solid explanation.
So, instead, the Scientist used the same method many labs use to separate a compound into its baser elements: a centrifuge. For those who had never set foot in a lab dealing with chemicals, the idea was similar to a washing machine. By having the inner Stomach lining rotate at dizzying speeds, Impurities were ripped off Aether motes like dirt stains on a white shirt.
Now free of the deadly imperfections, the Yin, Yang, and Neutral attuned energy was ready for its last stage, Infusement. Strangely, for this fourth stage, the Professor had little to do with, despite being the whole goal of Breath. Once spun clean, the attuned energies begin moving independently, seemingly drawn to the Essence organ acting as an infusing station for each Eternal Foundation.
Without so much as a flicker of will, Yin drifted to the Brain, Yang flowed into the Spine, and clusters of Neutral attuned Aether were pulled to the Heart. In seconds, his hungry Foundations created a vortex of Mana, Qi, and Essence to absorb all there was to gain. As far as the Foundations were concerned, this was the end of the line; their empowered energies were ready to be utilized.
For the Cultivator, however, there was still the stage of Expulsion, as one needed to remove those pesky Impurities. Whatever they were.
To start, Impurities were definitely not Aether or physical matter in any way, and as a result, the energy grim was invisible to him, Bloodline be damned. Neither Ego nor Momo knew them since their own methods automatically dealt with such issues. The Professor only discovered a hint of their existence by accident when he closely examined the Princess during their second-day off-world.
In those early days, Morgan wrote down everything his enhanced sight displayed. In one footnote, he noticed a size difference between Aether motes collected by Momo and the same motes just before being absorbed. Raw Aether was roughly a ⅓ the size of a marble, while every mote heading to a Foundation was sand grain sized. Initially, Morgan chalked the loss of visible volume up to some kind of entropy at play.
The fool was utterly wrong, and when he attempted to forcibly shove a trickle of uncooperative Raw Yang attuned energy into the Body Foundation, it hurt. Hurt, as in Morgan seriously considered death as every physical nerve reported repeatedly that he was on fire for almost an hour. Thankfully, the Monk recalled the footnote, and a closer examination revealed the impure phantom phenomenon.
Once separated from Aether, Impurities were incredibly light, or at least behaved as such. So, while the cosmic energy found its way out the bottom of the Stomach, the invisible grim floated up the final two tubes and out his mouth.
Every inhale drew in energy, every exhale expelled waste. That was Breath.
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"So tell me, when you meet a Cultivator of the same Rank, how do you greet them?" Quizzed the Monk as the sounds of the sea grew louder before them.
"Fist in palm salute." He answered, a bead of sweat on his brow from both the journey and constant concentration.
"Good, and when should you add a bow to the salute?"
"Never."
"Morgan." They said in gentle warning.
"Hypothetically speaking, a bow would be included in apologizing or ass-kissing." He huffed.
"Close enough." Ego sighed and moved aside a willow branch that obscured their destination.
A beach of white sun-bleached sand still deformed with countless pieces of dried seaweed, dead moss, driftwood, and hand-deep trenches. Nearly every item on the thin strip of shoreline was deposited or carved by the receding flood waters. All save the artificial red and black hunk of metal at the sandy center, gleaming in the momentary strong sunlight.
When Morgan finally spotted the solar generator, he almost broke into a run. Wisely, he resisted the urge. However, his mouth was not so disciplined.
"Oh, thank god we're here." The Professor sighed in relief before stiffening at his own words. Truthful they may be, that didn't change the fact his comment was blatantly ungrateful. "Now we can reach the northern shore faster using the raft." He backpedaled harder than a cyclist before oncoming traffic.
"Agreed." Nodded the Monk. "That should give us enough time to go over the basics of Xenia."
Hmm, Ego was on top of their game this morning. Morgan needed a reasonable counter if he was to be spared a terrible Fate.
"Or we can come up with a name for my Cultivation Method." He hinted as strongly as his dead voice could manage.
"There's no need; I like what you suggested last night... Give me a second to think of something a bit more-"
*Snap* The Monk clicked their fingers together as lightning was caught in the proverbial bottle.
"I got it." They turned to him, almost bouncing in place as they proposed, "The Franken Tantra."
The Franken Tantra? Without using the full name, people might become confused by the reference. Then again, since only a handful of beings in Vajrayana were even aware of Earthling pop culture, confusion was always going to happen. Plus, if anyone discovered he wasn't a Cultivator of the Diamond Tantra in the first place, he'd become a wanted man. So it wasn't as if Morgan would be flashing the name around in the first place.
"I like it."
"Good! Now, there should be no problem in starting the next lesson." The Spirit snickered before manifesting at their maximum distance to the generator. "Let's go. We don't want to keep little Momo waiting."
Morgan blew out a particularly large amount of Impurities that may or may not have had a few curse words hidden within. Curses Ego undoubtedly heard and might have chided him over if both of their attentions weren't suddenly ensnared by something moving in the shallows.
*pop, p-p-pop, pop pop*
Moving might be too misleading a word to describe the stationary patch of churning salt water directly in front of the generator. The Professor squinted but was forced to move closer as he struggled to determine what was happening.
The Spirit had no such issue.
[Are those bubbles?] Ego projected wearily, taking a step back.
He saw their sandal phase through a pile of driftwood, which meant they had likely swapped to their incorporeal avatar state.
*p-p-pop, pop pop*
It was true. Upon closing half the distance to the Monk, he saw a persistent stream of air bubbles racing for the surface.
[Is it a Beast?] They whispered needlessly into his literal mind.
Oh, it was more than likely a monstrous sea Beast, the Professor knew. Or rather, he suspected, seeing as he'd need to get much closer to use the Bloodline when viewing underwater. A fact that had annoyed him to no end when visiting Luna Lagoon. Darkness and distance held no power over Perception of the Stone Sage, yet a meter or two of water was enough to render it nearly useless.
Not that he would remind the frightened Monk.
[Could be a gas pocket trapped under the sand. Just stay out of sight and-]
*Snap* Morgan, in his own haste, stepped on a branch of sea-worn driftwood.
*Splash!*
A solid column of saltwater thicker than his head erupted forth from the bubble patch, its trajectory aimed right at Morgan's legs.
"Shit!" He bellowed in surprise, jumping straight up and narrowly dodging the liquid projectile. [I'm fine.] He projected before clarifying, [I'm pissed off, but I'm fine.]
Morgan stumbled the landing, but managed to stay upright in order to glare daggers at this latest attac-
Oh?
No. After one look, the Ecologist marveled at the majestic creature crawling on shore. He dimly noted that the necklace heated up before a new Bestiary entry was sent.
image [https://images.finitevoid.dev/userImages/d375895b-a8f6-46ed-b0f4-9a63e1dd8150/34e2ed36-24df-4286-83e0-597b7b8bb665.webp]
Damn. It was during times like these that the Professor just loved this universe.