V2 Chapter 9 – Tuning The Mind
----------------------------------------
IT IS NOT WHAT IS POURED INTO THE STUDENT THAT COUNTS, BUT WHAT IS PLANTED.
----------------------------------------
The faint hum of the crystals embedded in the ceiling stirs me from sleep. I open my eyes slowly, blinking away the heaviness of yet another restless night. Either I'm growing again, or my cage is shrinking, but it feels smaller than usual, the cold bars pressing against my side like an unwelcome reminder of my confinement.
Then the room around me comes into focus. It's always the same—comfort, which according to Henry, was designed with my preferences in mind. Whatever that meant. The pink bed in the corner, the shelves filled with soft, smiling toys, the curtains over the fake window, the ornate bookshelf. All of it meant to make me forget that I was little more than another project.
But something is different today.
I push myself up, hands gripping the bars as I glance around. A faint glow catches my eye—soft, blue, but most importantly, unfamiliar. Suspended in the air around the corners of the room are dozens of crystal tubes of varying sizes, their surfaces etched with shimmering inscriptions as if they were alive. They sway back and forth slightly, though there is no breeze, their hum faint but constant. The air around them pulses with indecipherable magic, a sensation that tickles the edges of my awareness.
Frowning, I lean closer to the bars. These tubes hadn’t been here yesterday. They didn’t belong with the bleached walls, stuffed animals, or the bed. They were foreign, strange….purposeful.
The buzz grows louder as I stare at them, like distant voices trying to speak just beyond my ability to understand. Was this a new language for me to study? I feel my mandibles twitch involuntarily, a low ache settling at the base of my head. Whatever these are, they aren’t meant to be ignored like the rest of the more…familiar decorations.
The sound of the door latch snapping open pulls my attention away and I turn sharply as the heavy door swings inward, my eyes locking onto the figure that enters. Daddy. At least that's how Henry wants me to refer to him. He looks the same as always—slightly disheveled hair, pendant, wrinkled lab coat, and that maddeningly warm smile on his face. In one hand, he holds a glowing wand, and in the other, his ever-present notebook.
“Good morning princess,” he says, the excitement in his voice more prominent than usual. His gaze drifts to the chimes, smile widening. “I see you’ve noticed the new additions.”
Glancing back at the crystals, then at him, my claws curl against the bars. I point at the cage's lock hesitantly, to which he chuckles softly as if he's amused by my antics. “Eager to explore, aren’t you?” His tone has a hint of condescension, but it also carries a thin layer of affection that makes something inside me flutter. He steps closer, his free hand brushing over the crystal tubes as if showing them off. “Do you like them? They’re a custom-made masterpiece of resonance and containment. But, ah, you’ve always been impatient.”
My frustration grows as I point again, more forcefully this time, at the lock. I want out. Need out. Today is a hands-on day, and he knows I don't like to waste what little time of freedom I get.
“Patience, my dear,” he says, a hint of reproach lacing his words. “I’m not quite finished with today’s observations.” He steps even closer, his warm smile now tinged with an edge of curiosity as he examines me. “I see that you've grown some more. Development is proceeding nicely.” He comments aloud, jotting down notes in his little book.
My claws scrape against the metal, leaving faint scratches on the bars. My green pupils narrow, focusing entirely on him. Open it. Let me speak, I try to convey through the intensity of my stare, but I know the cage nullifies even that faint connection. My frustration boils over, and a low, guttural sound escapes my throat.
He pauses, tilting his head. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re angry already. You know this is all for your benefit.” He gestures towards the room and then his notebook, flipping it open to jot something down, completely unfazed by my glare. “Your progress has been remarkable, you know. But there’s still so much untapped potential. We’ve only uncovered a fraction of what you are truly capable of. I can’t risk losing control over something so—” he glances up, meeting my eyes, “—unique.”
Unique. That word again. It’s always “unique,” as if that excuses the conditions he keeps me in. My claws dig deeper into the bars, the metal groaning softly under the pressure. I point again, this time stabbing at the lock with urgency.
He sighs dramatically, placing the notebook and glowing wand down on the nearby bookshelf. “Alright, alright,” he says, as though indulging a spoiled child. “But remember, I’m trusting you. You know the rules.”
He kneels before the cage, hands steady as he begins the meticulous process of unlocking it. First, he murmurs a string of words in a strange, flowing language I'm still struggling to decipher. The lock responds with a soft click, a faint glow rippling across its silver surface.
Next, his fingers dance over the etched symbols on the lock, each touch deliberate, as if a mistake would be detrimental. For half a minute, he works in silence, tension building until another click echoes through the room.
Finally, with a practiced motion, he produces a key from nowhere like he always does—a gleaming fragment of metal that no doubt has some supernatural origin. He slides it into place, and with a final twist, the lock surrenders, its mechanisms falling away with a satisfying clunk.
Almost immediately I push the door out, nearly knocking Henry over as I step out and stretch, my head falling in line with his waist. He reaches down and rubs my head, a weird gesture that always manages to calm my agitation.
《What are those?》I ask, head snapping back to the tubes that decorate the room. They have something to do with today's lessons.
He chuckles softly and steps around me to pick up the cage, carrying it out of the middle of the room and into the corner. “They’re an exercise,” he says, walking back to the bookshelf to pick up just the wand. “Something to help you. To prepare you for…bigger things.”
His words make my abdomen shift uncomfortably behind me. Henry’s "exercises" were never simple. They could be enjoyable, sure, but more often than not, they pushed me, stretched me, and demanded more than I thought I could give.
I narrow my eyes on him.《Prepare me for what?》I question. Was it another application of my powers? Maybe a physical test of some sort?
He pauses, hand on his chin in clear consideration of how much to say. “For understanding,” he finally says, his tone cryptic but kind. “And for control.”
I don't like the way he says it, but my eyes flick back to the chimes despite myself. Their glow seemed to pulse in time with the hum, more apparent now that I wasn't restricted by the cage.
《What am I supposed to do?》I questioned hastily, turning back to Henry. Just staring at them is a waste of time.
“I'll keep it brief for the sake of time. I know how much you want to have recess.” He begins, twirling the thin wand in his hand as he steps closer. “It's quite simple. Each of these crystals, chimes if you will, is attuned to a specific resonance. When struck, they emit a unique pattern of sound and vibration. Your task is to listen. Listen and respond.”
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes at him. It couldn't be that easy.《Respond how?》
“With precision,” he answers, a tinge of enthusiasm in his voice. “The patterns are complex, layered, and ever-changing. I'll play a sequence, and you'll match it.” There's an all too familiar glimmer in his eyes as he adds, “But not just with sound. You’ll need to recreate the patterns through your mind.”
《My…mind?》I answer hesitantly, not fully grasping the concept. The ache in my head sharpens, like the crystals themselves were already probing the edges of my consciousness. I wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be exciting, because it sure felt invasive. Then again, when was Henry not invasive?《Why not use my claws? Or my voice?》
Henry chuckles, shaking his head in what looks like amusement. “Because this isn’t about physical strength or mimicry. This is about resonance. Connection. You’re going to learn to attune yourself to what you hear and reflect it—perfectly. Do well enough, and we may move on to amplification as well.”
He steps back and gestures behind me, bringing my attention to a low table in the center of the room where the cage previously was. Where did that come from? Upon it sits a flat board etched with runes, its surface glowing with the same hue as the crystals above. Around the edges are what appear to be crystal tuning forks, differentiated by varying sizes and colors. Hovering just above the board, out of reach, is a single orb, its surface swirling as if coated in some sort of liquid.
”Take your place,” he instructs, gesturing towards the padded mat before the table that I had yet to notice. I hesitate for a moment, then pad forward on all fours, my feet digging into the carpet. As I settle onto the mat, I glance back at him.《How am I supposed to know what sound each fork makes?》
"That's the neat part. You don't," he replies with a bit of mischief in his tone, although his gaze never leaves the forks. "This isn't about knowing. It's about feeling. The sound they make isn't something you will simply hear—it's something your body will resonate with. For this task, you'll have to let instinct guide you, not logic.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
《And what happens if I get it wrong?》These kinds of things always have consequences for failure.
Henry’s smile widens, a devious look in his eye. “The crystals will let you know. You’ll feel a gentle…correction.”
My mandibles twitch in annoyance, but I suppress a growl. He was keeping things from me, but what could I do about it? More often than not, I ended up hating these games of his, but they always had a purpose, and despite myself, I always wanted to win.
Henry steps back some more, raising his wand. “We'll start simple. Three tones, one at a time. Match them by striking the corresponding fork. Ready?”
I nod, focusing on the crystals above.
With a flick of his wrist, the wand sends a pulse of energy into one of the cornermost crystals. It hums loudly, releasing a pure, high-pitched note that lingers in the air for longer than it seems it should.
A second crystal responds immediately after, its tone deeper and more resonant, vibrating through my entire exoskeleton in a way that makes me shudder.
The third is abrupt, a quick and sharp pulse, almost playful in its rhythm.
I close my eyes to better focus, letting the tones sink in. I can feel them, not just in my ears but in the very fabric of my mind. Each note leaves a trail, a shape that lingers in the corners of my thoughts.
I turn to face him, raring to go.《Got it》I say, confident.
In contrast, Henry smirks, lowering the wand. “Show me.”
I extend my awareness, reaching for the tuning forks on the board. My hand brushes against one, and it vibrates in response. The note it produces is clear, but it’s not quite the same as the first chime.
A sharp pulse of energy lances through my head, brief but biting. I hiss, pulling back instinctively. That was supposed to be gentle?
“Wrong,” Henry says lightly, though there’s no malice in his tone. “Listen closer, Rayka. Feel it. Don’t just guess. Focus.”
I turn to glare at him, but quickly force myself to refocus. Getting angry at him won't change a thing. This time, I take a deep breath, letting the hum of the crystals fill me again. A bit more effort and the trails they leave are slightly clearer now, just a bit more defined.
Slowly, I reach for another fork, and when it vibrates, the tone it produces matches the first perfectly.
“Yes,” Henry comments, his voice laced with an approval that makes me giddy. “Now the next.”
The second tone is trickier, the deeper resonance harder to grasp. But I concentrate, taking the necessary time to trace its shape in my thoughts until I find the correct fork.
“Good. One more.”
The final tone, with its quick, more complex rhythm, is a bit of a challenge. My feet tap against the floor in time with it, and I realize I'm already mimicking it involuntarily. I reach for the final fork, mind buzzing with anticipation.
The tone rings out, crisp and perfect.
Henry claps once, the sound ringing out in the otherwise quiet room. “Well done sweetheart. That's the beginning.”
I exhale, the tension easing slightly, though the ache in my head from the missed fork still lingers.《That…That was just the start?》I ask in disbelief.
“Of course it is. Three is easy. Very easy. All you had to do was match the tones.” He explains, though I find his words hard to believe. “You'll be done with these crystals when you can balance out, order, and match with every single tone at the same time without slipping up once.” He says, pausing to wipe his eyes. Is he really expecting me to deal with every last crystal at once? That's impossible. There had to be at least two hundred of these things.
“Mastery of the concept itself goes far beyond that, but that's a long way off. Today's goal will simply be five. Five crystals in complete resonance with each other.” Henry grins. “That means you're going to have to learn how to balance and order on top of matching. Oh…and don't think I forgot about amplification. I'm sure you'll learn it as well if you want recess just that much.”
I bite back a groan. It's going to be a long day.
***
I narrow my eyes, my mandibles twitching as the hum of five crystals vibrate through my skull. Somehow, their tones have weaved together in a chaotic symphony, each demanding my attention, each pulling me in a different direction. My feet dig into the mat beneath me, and my hands twitch with the urge to just knock it all over as I fight to keep my focus steady.
The first tone is high and clear, like the sound of glass striking glass. It darts through my mind like a flickering light, holding most of my attention. The second is more manageable, a deep, resonant pulse that anchors the others with its weight. However, the third wavers, its tone oscillates unpredictably, refusing to settle into something I can read.
The fourth and fifth…are in leagues of their own, so much that I struggle just to hold onto their shapes. One is distant, its timbre so faint it barely registers, while the other crackles and pops out at me, sharp and erratic like static. Together, they pull at the edges of my focus, threatening to drag me under.
“Stay with it, Rayka,” Henry’s voice cuts through, more firm than playful. He stands at the edge of the room, his wand raised, the crystals shimmering in response to his subtle movements. “You've identified them, next up is balance. Don’t let them overwhelm you.”
Balance. I cling to that word like a lifeline, forcing myself to breathe deeply. The crystals don’t stop, their intensity only growing as if testing my limits. I reach out with my mind, grasping for the highest pitch first. Its sharpness makes it easy to extricate, and I hold onto it, grounding myself in its clarity.
I take hold of the fork that resonates with it, aiming to stabilize the timbre, but the moment I focus on this single tone the others clamor for attention, their volume swelling in protest.
A sharp pain blooms at the back of my head, as if it was being split, and my breath catches. The longer it takes for me to balance the tones, the sharper the sensation grows, spreading outward until it feels like my entire mind is vibrating out of sync with itself.
I try to push back, to regain some space in my mind, but the crackling tone stabs at me, demanding to be noticed. Its chaotic rhythm is nothing close to steady, bouncing off the others and throwing everything into disarray.
A sudden clang echoes in my head, jarring and out of place. Immediately my eyes snap open, breaking my concentration, and the pain recedes almost instantly, leaving a dull ache in its wake. My claws tighten against the edge of the mat, the faint scrape of chitin on plush fabric grounding me as I recover.
I've barely done anything deserving of tiredness yet my body feels heavy, as though the air itself is weighing down on me. My legs tremble faintly, a subtle quiver that I can't quite suppress, and the tips of my mandibles twitch erratically.
Across the room, Henry smirks, picking up the metal object he just dropped onto the floor. “Focus, sweetheart. Order…brings balance,” he says, his tone maddeningly calm despite how much he knows I'm pissed at him. “The world won’t stop throwing distractions at you. You have to learn to push through.”
I grit my teeth, mandibles clicking in frustration.《I can’t focus if you keep doing that!》
“You can,” he counters, his gaze steady. “You just haven’t figured out how yet. Try again.”
I hiss softly but close my eyes again, the various timbres rushing back in to fill the void. This time, I don’t fight the distraction. I let the sound of the clang hover at the edges of my mind, acknowledging it but refusing to give it more power than it deserves. It becomes part of the background, nothing more.
The tones come back into focus, and I decide to latch onto the deep pulse, letting it anchor me, hoping to use its steadiness as a foundation for the rest. The erratic crackle dances around it, but I keep it contained, refusing to let it pull me away.
The low tone seems to be the right choice, and one by one, I blend the tones, each compound making it all a little less chaotic. Their shapes and rhythms align in my mind like pieces of a puzzle, bringing me to the final piece. It's the faint one that comes last, its elusiveness finally giving way as I draw it into the pattern.
And then, for a moment, everything clicks. The chaos resolves into harmony, the tones blending into a single, unified resonance that sends a shiver running through my entire being.
The hum persists, but it fades into a background buzz, leaving a stillness that feels almost sacred.
I open my eyes, meeting Henry’s gaze. He’s smiling, that infuriatingly pleased expression that always makes me wonder if I’ve just exceeded his expectations or walked into another one of his traps.
“Well done,” he says, lowering the wand. “But we’re not done yet. You’ve stabilized the balance. Now it’s time for refinement—tuning the frequencies individually while keeping the harmony intact. Try to modify the underlying melody of the harmony. Keep your eyes open.”
I nod, my focus narrowing as I reach out mentally toward the familiar low pulse that rumbles like distant thunder. The higher-pitched tones dance around the edges of my perception in response, taunting me, challenging me to hold the balance steady. I grip the mat tighter, my claws pressing into the fabric as I begin the delicate work of weaving them together without letting the harmony I've worked so hard for unravel.
“Remember,” Henry says, “it’s not just about control. It’s about synergy. Let the tones guide you, but don’t let them dominate—”
A sharp ring cuts him off mid-sentence. The sound doesn’t come from the crystals. It’s mechanical, distinct, and intrusive.
Henry freezes, his wand lowering slightly. Brow furrowed, he reaches into his lab coat and pulls out a small device that I've seen on occasion. The contraption glows faintly, constantly changing shape until it assumes that of a sphere, surface flickering with runic patterns that shift and flow like living ink.
I glance at him, my concentration faltering as I note the sudden tension in his shoulders.《What is it?》I ask, reverting any changes to the low timbre so that it doesn't disturb me.
Henry doesn’t answer. His eyes scan the device, and his expression shifts rapidly—from confusion to disbelief, and then to something close to panic. “No, no, no,” he mutters, his fingers tightening around the device. “It’s too soon. She’s not ready. I was supposed to have another ten days!”
The words send a chill through me. I straighten my focus on him now completely.《What are you talking about?》
He doesn’t look up, his attention still locked on the device as the glowing patterns intensify. “Damn it,” he mutters again, pacing a few steps before coming to an abrupt stop. “This isn’t right. This can’t be right!” Henry exclaims, tossing the wand onto the bookshelf with little care.
Immediately the crystals go silent, even their earlier humming nowhere to be found. The blue glow fades away, and for once my mind is empty.
After what feels like an eternity, he exhales heavily and seems to regain some measure of control. He looks at me, his gaze steady but tinged with urgency. “We need to go,” he says, pocketing the device.
《Go where? Why so suddenly?》I demand, rising to my feet slowly, the fatigue in my legs barely forgotten in the face of his sudden shift in demeanor.
He shakes his head, clearly unwilling to explain. Kyraa now is not the time for questions. Just follow me. And keep your focus sharp—you’ll need it.”
Without waiting for my response, he takes his notebook and strides toward the exit, his lab coat billowing behind him. I hesitate for a moment, unease curling in my gut, before following.
If only I had paid more attention.
----------------------------------------
Notebook Entry 3XX: The Runic Chimes
A custom construct tailored specifically for Subject Kyraa, the Runic Chimes combine advanced resonance tuning with magical etching to create a complex and expansive mental exercise. Each crystal tube is inscribed with precision-based runes that generate a distinct frequency when activated. The frequencies interact dynamically, creating an auditory and mental challenge designed to sharpen focus and mental compartmentalization.
Purpose: To acclimate Kyraa to processing multiple simultaneous inputs, a skill essential for managing the anticipated cognitive load of her unique neural capabilities. Secondary objectives include testing her aptitude for resonance manipulation and measuring her capacity to filter extraneous stimuli.
Notable Observations: The chimes exhibit adaptive behavior under Kyraa’s influence, suggesting a latent feedback loop between the artifact’s field of resonance and her evolving mental state. Further investigation is required to determine whether this response is intrinsic to Kyraa or a result of prolonged exposure to the exercise.