It was difficult to find his soul core—harder than he’d expected, even with the officer’s vague instructions. But it wasn’t impossible. After the first attempt that morning, he was starting to get a feel for it, like learning how to balance on a thin rope. It took focus, patience, and a strange kind of stillness he wasn’t used to, but he was getting better. Each time he concentrated on that inner warmth, he found it quicker, the sensation more familiar, more tangible.
The warmth itself was… nice. Gentle, almost comforting, radiating from his chest like the glow of a small flame. And there was something else, too—a feeling of strength, faint but unmistakable, as if he were tapping into a reservoir he hadn’t known existed. He didn’t understand where the strength came from, but it made him feel a little more solid, a little more real.
But then, just as he was settling into the sensation, he felt a sudden, terrifying pull on his consciousness.
It wasn’t something he intended; it just… happened. One moment he was rooted in his body, and the next, he was yanked forward, his mind plunging into an unfamiliar space.
All of a sudden, he was surrounded by… nothing.
He looked around, disoriented. There was no floor beneath him that he could see, yet he felt solid ground under his feet, covered in a dense, white mist that swirled around his ankles. Everywhere he looked, it was flat, open, endless, stretching out into an infinity of pale emptiness. High above him, a radiant white sun hovered in a perfectly clear sky, casting a soft, ambient light that made everything glow.
It was surreal. Unsettling, yet strangely peaceful.
As he stood there, he realized that he felt… fine. He wasn’t tired. He wasn’t hungry. All the aches and pains that had been gnawing at him since he entered the trial were gone, like they’d been left behind in the physical world. Even his worry, his sense of urgency, felt muted, softened, as if it were something he’d only imagined.
For the first time since the trial began, Draemir felt completely at ease.
When he’d first entered the trial, he’d been bracing himself for horror. He’d expected blood, monsters, chaos—some horrific abomination waiting to tear him limb from limb. He’d prepared himself for a brutal test of survival, a gauntlet designed to crush him. But instead… he’d had a strangely mundane experience. The temple was unsettling, yes, and the storm outside had been grueling, but nothing had outright tried to kill him. Not yet.
Maybe that was why he’d become more comfortable with his situation. He still wanted to leave, of course. He wanted to survive, to live. But this place… it was so different from everything he’d feared.
In this strange, mist-filled space, he felt… complete.
It was an odd thought, unsettling in its own way. He’d never known what it meant to feel “at home.” As an orphan, the concept had always seemed foreign to him, like a fairy tale told to other children, but never meant for him. He’d spent his life on the outskirts, drifting from place to place, never truly belonging anywhere.
But here, in this strange, empty place that he somehow knew existed within himself, he felt… anchored. Safe. Like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
‘Is this what “home” feels like?’ he wondered, awestruck by the thought.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, soaking in the sense of peace that radiated from every direction. The emptiness, the stillness—it all felt like an extension of himself, as if he were seeing a reflection of his own soul.
It was only a moment later that Draemir noticed something odd—he could still hear the faint patter of rain outside the temple. It was distant, almost like an echo, but unmistakable. Along with the rainfall, he could smell the faint, earthy aroma of the temple’s stone walls, and he could still feel the hard ground beneath him, as if he were sitting there in the physical world.
‘So I’m not trapped here,’ he realized.
It was reassuring. This place, however strange, didn’t seem to imprison him. He had the sense that if he simply let go of his focus, he’d slip back to reality, pulled out of this otherworldly space like waking from a dream.
Relieved, he took another look around, captivated by the world within his soul. Everything here was white—though not in a uniform way. There were subtle variations, layers of whites and grays that created depth. The "sun," if that’s what it was, hovered high above him, shining with a radiant light that didn’t move or flicker. It was almost like someone had taken a piece of chalk and drawn a perfect circle in the sky, then filled it with an even brighter white. It was simple, yet mesmerizing, and looking at it gave him an eerie feeling, as if he were staring straight into the core of his own being.
‘Is that… my soul core?’ he wondered, awe stirring in his chest.
The thought was oddly satisfying.
‘I did grow it myself, after all.’ he mused, feeling a flicker of pride.
There was something powerful about seeing this part of himself, something that had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface. This was him—his essence, his soul, his core.
But as comforting as this place was, it didn’t help him find what he was truly looking for. He still didn’t know what his special powers were. He’d come all this way, reached deep within himself, but the mysteries of his abilities remained frustratingly out of reach.
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‘Okay… so my powers are around here somewhere,’ he thought. He turned around, half expecting to see something glowing or pulsing in the mist.
Nothing.
He spun again, looking in the opposite direction. Still nothing. Just the endless white mist stretching out in every direction, giving him no clue as to where his abilities might be.
After a moment’s hesitation, he decided to start walking, hoping that if he wandered far enough, he’d stumble upon something. The "soul plane"—as he was beginning to think of it—was a strange place to navigate. No matter how far he walked, the sun above him never shifted, never moved. It hung there, unmoving, like a compass that pointed to nowhere.
He began to suspect that he wasn’t actually making any progress. This vast expanse of mist might be a loop, a place with no real distance or direction.
With a sigh, he stopped and scratched his head.
‘Alright, maybe I’m overthinking this. Maybe I just need to be more direct.’
He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and yelled, "Use special power!"
The words echoed out into the mist… and nothing happened. Not even a flicker of light or a hint of warmth in his chest. He just stood there in the silence, his own voice fading into nothingness.
He felt his cheeks heat up, even though there was no one around to witness his awkward attempt.
‘Great, he thought, I’m in my own soul, yelling into the void like a lunatic.’
It was a little embarrassing.
The heroes he had seen on TV could use their powers without looking, yet here he was dawdling about like an infant trying to solve a complex math problem.
He wasn’t very good at math.
But he wasn’t an infant.
'So what’s my problem?'
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes again, trying to settle his mind. Maybe he was thinking too hard about it. Perhaps he was being too literal?
Maybe he needed to feel his way to his powers, instead of looking for them like objects in a room.
Taking a deep breath, Draemir closed his eyes… again?
It was a strange sensation, closing his eyes within his own mind. It felt a bit redundant, like blinking in a dream. But he was getting distracted.
‘Focus,’ he told himself, trying to settle into the calm he’d felt earlier.
‘…’
‘Again?’
It was harder than he’d expected. It wasn’t that he couldn’t focus—he’d just never experienced anything like this before, and the novelty of it all kept pulling him off track. This was, after all, his first time inside his own soul. Every sensation, every strange detail of this place, tugged at his curiosity.
He took another breath, letting the fascination drift to the background, and tried to refocus on the task at hand.
‘Why can’t I use my special power?’
And then the answer hit him. It was painfully obvious, so obvious he almost laughed.
The reason he couldn’t use his power was staring him in the face: he didn’t know the first thing about it. He had no idea what kind of power he had, how it worked, or even what it was supposed to feel like. He was stumbling around blind, hoping something miraculous would just… happen.
‘Maybe it’s a passive power?’ he wondered. ‘Maybe I’m already using it and just haven’t noticed.’
‘Or,’ he thought, ‘it could be something active, something that required a specific kind of focus to activate.’
But one glaring problem rose up from this train of thought. How would he even know? How could he discover his power when he didn’t have the faintest idea of what he was looking for?
‘Is there… some kind of informational pamphlet I can see about my soul?’ he thought, half-jokingly.
And then—without warning—lines of text appeared in front of him, hovering at eye level, clear and perfectly visible, forming right before his eyes.
Draemir yelped, stumbling backward as the sudden appearance of text filled his vision. He blinked, heart pounding, watching as words scrolled into existence, each letter materializing with a strange, soft glow. But just as quickly as it had appeared, the text began to fade, dissolving back into the mist before he could catch more than a few disjointed words.
‘Uh… what was that?’
While a bit frightening, Draemir was more excited than anything. He’d found exactly what he was looking for.
‘Informational pamphlet!’ he thought, and, as if responding to his wish, the text returned. It materialized slowly, floating right at head level, following his gaze no matter where he moved his eyes. It was… kind of cool, actually.
‘Focus!’ he reminded himself, forcing his excitement into something more manageable. Reading through his own soul felt surreal, like exploring a part of himself he’d never been able to reach before. He started with the top few lines, eager to see what he had to offer.
[Name: Draemir][Rank: Dormant][Soul Affinity: Dreams][Soul Grade: ???][Soul Fragments: 0/1000]
‘Okay, we’re off to a good start!’ he thought, pleased with his discovery. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at having unlocked something so mysterious within himself. If he hadn’t figured out how to bring up this… soul menu, he probably would have spent weeks—if not months—floundering around, trying to understand what his affinity even was.
‘Dreams,’ he thought, feeling a little thrill of curiosity mixed with apprehension. His soul affinity was tied to dreams? He couldn’t decide if that sounded powerful or… well, kind of weak. Dreams didn’t exactly sound like something that could blow away enemies or help him survive a death trial. He imagined some grand warrior in his place discovering their affinity was “Fire” or “Steel” or something much more intimidating, and a flicker of doubt crept in.
Was his special power going to be… useless?
He shook his head, trying not to let the worry get to him.
‘There’s gotta be more to it,’ he thought.
His gaze drifted to the next line: Soul Grade.
‘Hmm… I guess that’s like… rarity?’ he mused, though he wasn’t entirely sure. The “???” next to it didn’t exactly help him understand. It was odd that his own soul couldn’t—or wouldn’t—provide information about its own grade. The lack of clarity felt like a gap he couldn’t quite bridge. But he decided not to dwell on it. Without more context, he was just guessing.
He moved on to the next line: Soul Fragments.
‘Soul Fragments?’ He frowned, feeling a twinge of confusion. He’d never heard of such a thing. What were they supposed to be? Pieces of himself he hadn’t yet found? Pieces he needed to collect? He had no clue, and the text offered no additional explanations.
‘...’ He paused, glancing around as if hoping for another prompt or tooltip to pop up with more details. ‘Maybe I can just… ask?’ he thought, half-jokingly. But nothing new appeared. Whatever his “Soul Fragments” were, it seemed he was going to have to figure it out on his own.
With a sigh, he moved to the next section, determined to keep exploring.