It felt good to be back in the Northern Citadel.

The creaking chains, the rustling wind, and the gurgling fountains, these familiar sounds set Song’s mind at ease as she idled the morning away on the swings, just as she’d done every morning for the past week. It was still a novel feeling to do nothing with her time, but seeing how she couldn’t move too far from Rain’s person, she found it difficult to maintain productivity. Sister Mila and Yan left early this morning with Kyung and Teacher Du in tow, off to visit Niece Alsantset and meditate in the bamboo grove. While Song couldn’t join them on account of Rain staying in the Citadel, she wouldn’t have wanted to even if given the option, as she still had more than enough Insights and Inspirations left to digest. Too much was as bad as not enough, so it would be inconsiderate to ask the Mother Above for more than she could handle.

Normally, Song would find Mister Rustram or someone else from Rain’s retinue to spar with to pass the morning, but due to a friendly rivalry cropping up between Rain’s retinue and the rapidly improving Stormguard, Mama had taken them all out with her on a training trip. The Death Corps made for poor sparring partners, because without an express order from Rain or Luo-Luo, they tended to hold back when sparring against anyone who was not another Death Corps guard. They couldn’t help it, because they were compelled to do so by their Oaths, which included a caveat about not making trouble for their Master. Forcing them to commit to such a broad Oath was cruel and spiteful to the extreme, since ‘trouble’ was so vague it could be interpreted as almost anything, including the trouble of feeding and housing them.

Which only proved that no matter how bad one’s life might be, things could always get worse.

Beset by a fit of melancholy, Song put her thoughts aside and aimlessly swung back and forth, going higher and higher until she had to work to stay in her seat. Letting her momentum play out, she smiled as she spotted Blackjack and the red panda perched in the boughs, creeping closer with every pass as if too shy to let her see them move. The red panda was shy at least, and Blackjack was simply playing along, happy to have made a new friend who he could bully without reprisal. Slowing her swing down to a reasonable pace, Song reached in and condensed her Aura to deliver a friendly invitation, one tinged with hints of comfortable exhilaration and harmless glee.

A wonderful thing, this advanced Aura of hers, allowing Song to convey all the emotions she didn’t know how to express with words, expressions, or actions. Although people didn’t always respond to this form of non-verbal and non-somatic communication in positive ways, animals were a different sort altogether, more than happy to accept her messages at face value and react appropriately. For Blackjack, this meant taking a moment to time his jump so that he landed in Song’s lap at the apex of her swing, where she promptly took him in hand to ensure he didn’t accidentally fly off. The red panda was more hesitant than Blackjack, but as Song slowed down, he gathered his courage and leapt off to join them, his paws all akimbo as he hurtled through the air.

Except he timed his jump perfectly as to miss Song’s lap by a long shot.

Leaping off the swing, she caught the red panda as gently as she could and suppressed a giggle at his befuddled grimace. Clenching his paws against her forearm in nervous anticipation, she could see the wheels turning inside his little head, wondering if he’d been tricked out of the safety of his perch, but Song deployed her Aura to full effect in order to soothe the apprehensive beast’s nerves. Even then, he didn’t relax until she sat back down in the swing and set the chains to creaking once more, at which point he loosened his grip enough for Song to sit him into her lap like a toddler, her arm wrapped around his belly and Blackjack at his side so both animals could wholly appreciate the wind in their fur.

A shame Princess didn’t enjoy the swings as much as Blackjack and the red panda. The gently rocking couch already tested the limits of her tolerance, a couch she claimed for herself and gracefully allowed Sister-in-Law Sarnai’s calm and still presence beside her. The bears, wildcats, and even the rabbits were banned from joining them because the weasel-bear didn’t like how they jostled the swing about, and she was quick to express her discontent whenever any of them tried to approach. Luckily, Brother Baatar was all too happy to share the second couch swing, though only Sarankho and sweet George were brave enough to join him, as Brother Baatar’s boots touched the veranda roof overhead with every swing.

A good thing the window there looked into an empty hallway, as opposed to Song, Yan, or Luo-Luo’s bedrooms, else Sister-in-Law Sarnai would have his hide even though he had access to Scrying and therefore a much easier method of peeping if he so cared to. He wasn’t the type though, wholly lacking Rain’s roving eye, and Song feared for her privacy alongside the privacy of all women in the Empire once he mastered that trick for himself.

A joke, mostly, but not entirely. Rain always did have issues with impulse control.

No, not did. Does. Though unable to see into his bedroom window, she knew he was lying in bed with Mama Bun and Ping Ping beside him, the two dutiful animals still waiting for him to wake up. No amount of love, comfort, or acceptance expressed through Aura was enough to sway either of them from Rain’s side, and lately, Ping Ping had even taken to expressing disgruntled discontent whenever Song pressed the issue, though the sweet turtle always followed up her ‘harsh’ rejoinders with a burst of loving Aura, just to make sure Song knew she was still loved.

Sunrise came and went as Song frittered the time away, and Brother Baatar left with it, off to surprise an on-duty unit with an impromptu inspection. Hardly the best use of his time, but after clashing with Huanhuzi’s pirates on the field of battle some four weeks ago, he considered the Imperial Army an outright disgrace for being less disciplined and put together than Defiled bandits. Soldiers and officers alike trembled with his passing, and while the rank and file were punished with gruelling physical training, Brother Baatar was none too shy about stripping Officers of command. Three Majors and a Lieutenant Colonel had been busted back down the ranks thus far, and judging by his grumblings delivered at the dinner table last night, today’s ‘randomly’ selected unit would soon have need of a new officer as well. What rank, he never said, but Song suspected he’d set his sights on someone of high status, perhaps even a Colonel or Brigadier to show he truly meant business.

A good decision, most agreed, even the soldiers being punished for their mistakes. The former Officers might wail and moan, but deep down, every base soldier yearned for a leader worth following, and there was no dearth of talent within their ranks. Since abandoning the second line of defences, the Empire had seen an upsurge in new emerging Talents, with fresh-faced rookies and grizzled veterans alike finding new direction upon the Martial Path. This was in addition to the three-thousand plus Irregulars who returned as Martial Warriors, an incident which all-too-quickly blew up into heated debate. There were those who believed the storm to be a benediction and baptism from the Mother Above, while others like BoShui and MuYang insisted that it was Rain’s work instead, an argument which led to much confusion when carried out in conversation. Then there were those who lacked faith and believed it was all a ploy from their Legate, an ‘obviously fake miracle’ meant to bolster Rain’s standing, as if that was enough to explain all the strange happenings in the last month.

Personally, Song was torn between the first two camps. Attributing all these miracles to Rain seemed a little far-fetched, but there were too many strange coincidences to deny it out of hand.

Upstairs, Song heard Luo-Luo sneak in to check on Rain and knew she would be out for breakfast soon. Though still a late start at eight in the morning, it was a marked improvement from the days when the Imperial Servant woke an hour before lunch, and when she finally arrived in the courtyard, Song hopped off the swings to greet her with a nod. “Good morning Li-Li,” Luo-Luo crooned, her voice as melodic as her zither. “You really don’t need to stop enjoying yourself on my account. I could always go do my morning practice elsewhere.” Shaking her head, Song shooed the animals out of the way while using her Aura to assure Luo-Luo she was happy to do this and that it was no real trouble, and the Imperial Servant promptly responded by wrapping Song in a tight hug. “Oh Li-Li,” she said, lifting Song off her feet in surprisingly strong arms, “Your stony expression hides so much love and affection, I really never would have known if you didn’t have this wondrous Aura.”

Cheeks heating up from the tall woman’s warm embrace, Song considered fighting free of the hug, but she wasn’t sure if she could do so without hurting Luo-Luo. When they first met, the Imperial Servant would’ve lost a fight with Mama Bun, but now she was a Warrior in truth. Though not quite strong enough to serve as Song’s sparring partner, it might not be long before Luo-Luo caught up, for she was a phenomenal talent especially with her sceptre-flail in hand. The weapon was one reason why Song was happy to clear the courtyard for Luo-Luo, because the less who saw her practice, the better. As long as they believed her a weak, frail, stand-in Legate, her foes would continue to underestimate her resolve and think her easily bullied if push came to shove, meaning they would be in for a rude awakening when they finally opted to try.

Still carrying Blackjack and the red panda, Song scooped up Tawny One before joining Princess and Sister-in-Law Sarnai on the couch. The older woman was lost in her thoughts, but still remembered to welcome Song with a smile, to which she responded with an outpouring of supportive Aura. “Thank you, dear heart,” Sarnai said, wrapping Song in a one armed hug. Upset she was being left out, Princess carefully laid herself across Sarnai’s lap and rested her chin on Song’s thighs, eliciting a low chuckle from the older woman. “Truly a marvellous wonder,” she murmured, resting her cheek atop Song’s head as they all snuggled together and watched Luo-Luo Demonstrate the Forms, which was what she thought Sarnai was alluding to until she continued, “Humour an old fool once more and tell me how your Aura works?”

Though merely a polite request, the way Sarnai worded the question made it almost sound like a demand, and Song had to fight down a surge of momentary anxiety as she tried to obey on reflex. It was times like this when she missed Rain the most, because he always carefully chose his words whenever she was involved, a habit she’d only just come to appreciate now that everyone else was forgetting to do the same. Still, it wasn’t much, as most of the problem was inside Song’s head, and she happily answered Sarnai’s query. “I am not sure how it works,” she began, just to make clear that she was not replying with the objective truth, but rather how she perceived it. A minor distinction, but she’d seen slaves die for less. “I simply tap into whatever emotion I am currently feeling, and kindle my Aura from there, as if lighting a candle from a burning flame, or drawing water from a bubbling wellspring.”

“Or filling your Aura with the wind of emotion, and packing it tight with soil of the same.” Smiling as she patted Song’s arm, Sarnai said, “I see you have been hard at work coming up with better explanations. Such a sweet, dutiful girl you are.”

Song’s cheeks coloured once more, no longer able to hide her emotions as easily as before, the one downside to being more in tune with them. Yet another unexplained miracle from that incredible battle, one of too many to name. Not for the first time, Song’s eyes went to Rain’s bedroom window, and she idly wondered if he had anything to do with her improved Aura, or with the elevation of Irregulars into tried and true Martial Warriors, or the widespread Insights regarding Panacea based Healing so many different individuals had received since then. The world of Martial Warriors was experiencing an unprecedented upheaval, with miracles occurring almost each passing day and common knowledge being challenged at every turn. Add to this the internal strife caused by Rain’s absence, the Defiled departure from the battlefield, the growing dissatisfaction with the luxury tax, the crumbling divide between nobles and commoners brought about by Rain’s burgeoning ‘middle-class’, and a thousand other factors, led Song to believe a great trial and tribulation was waiting ahead.

The Mother never gave Her children more than they could bear, but given how She directly acted to increase the strength of humanity as a whole, this meant that the coming calamity might well be a challenge on a scale they’d never before seen.

Somehow sensing Song’s trepidation, Sarnai soothed her nerves with little more than a pat on the arm, the most she could do while they were already huddled in a warm embrace. No, it wasn’t just her presence, but another sensation as well, something telling Song that she had strength enough to bear whatever may come, but she knew not the source of this reassurance. Again, her eyes were drawn towards Rain’s bedroom window, somehow suspecting it was his reassurance she was feeling.

Because... it simply felt like something he would say, exactly how he would say it. “No need to worry about it,” she could almost hear him saying, shrugging as he added, “It’ll all work out.” And all the while, he’d be inwardly fretting about the exact same problem, as well as a thousand others Song would’ve never even considered, one or more of which might well inevitably crop up. Was he somehow communicating with her despite his coma? It would explain Mama Bun’s insistence on trying to wake him, since she never bothered him like that the last time he lapsed into a coma, immediately after Ping Ping’s ascension to Divinity. Perhaps the sweet bunny knew something the rest of them didn’t, that Rain was aware of the world around him and somehow responding to it.

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...

How ridiculous. Song had read one too many of BoShui’s flowery sermons on ‘the glory’ of Falling Rain.

“It is not ridiculous.” Somehow reading Song’s thoughts, Sarnai smiled and shook her head. “You are not as difficult to read as I once believed.” Turning her gaze towards Rain’s window, Sarnai repeated, “It is not ridiculous. I too feel his presence around us, so inspiring, yet wholly lacking in enthusiasm and good cheer. I believe he is in there, locked away and sulking in his dreams, but still somehow aware of what is happening around him.” If anyone would know, it would be Sarnai, seeing how she recently spent six months in a coma, but Song was still not wholly convinced. Seeing this, the older woman smiled and said, “It does not matter if you harbour doubts, for my faith will not waver. He is in there and he needs our support. When you have time, speak with him a bit. Tell him about things the animals have done, or your concerns regarding the Martial Path, or anything at all really. That is all I ask.”

Again, it took Song an effort of will to remind herself that this was not an order, nor was she compelled to obey if it was. Picking up on her discomfort, Sarnai raised an eyebrow in question, but Song shook her head and sank back into the kind woman’s embrace to watch Luo-Luo Demonstrate the Forms and twirl her chain about in dizzying, hypnotic patterns. While Sister Mila and Sister Tursinai fought with similar weapons, they stuck to whirling their chains in simple arcs, tracing a large, circular pattern typically from overhead. In contrast, Luo-Luo’s chain was shorter in length, but the Imperial Servant made it come to life in her hands, its movements reminiscent of a flying serpent. Back and forth it wiggled in an undulating pattern, seemingly slithering in place before darting forward to strike without warning, all done with a gentle flick of her wrist that betrayed no intention. Her recovery was sublime as well, the snake’s head rearing back before whipping around again, this time in a horizontal sweep instead of a darting snap, and so long as she had strength enough behind the attack, Luo-Luo could clear a dozen Defiled away with this seemingly careless attack. That was the greatest danger she presented, for Luo-Luo’s Demonstration looked elegant and harmless until it didn’t, only to revert back into a calm and delicate dance.

So much progress in so little time, all while Song languished in mediocrity.

Were that all of humanity as mediocre as you. You have your own strengths and talents, so do not despair.

Warmed by this rare moment of self-confidence, Song glanced at Rain’s window for the umpteenth time. Sarnai’s faith was strong, but Song merely harboured unfounded suspicions. Her suspicions deepened when she followed Sarnai upstairs with all the pets to help get Rain dressed for company, for when she greeted Ping Ping, Mama Bun, Sorya, Anrhi, and him with a touch of friendly Aura, she found that she could no longer reach him, as if he’d been closed off to her an instant after her Aura connected. She said as much, but Sarnai merely frowned and shrugged, saying, “Strange. I thought he overcame his inability to feel Aura, but perhaps the problem has resurfaced. No matter. He fixed it before, he will fix it again.”

Putting Blackjack, Tawny One, and the red panda down on the bed, Song pondered the problem while Sarnai fussed with Rain’s clothes and hair. Unable to come to a suitable answer, Song massaged Aurie’s cheeks and gestured at the red panda instead. “It is unkind to keep calling him ‘red panda’. We should give him a name.” Watching Rain for a reaction, she added, “A proper name, different from something Rain would choose.”

He gave no response, but Song hadn’t expected him to. “He does have a strange naming sense,” Sarnai admitted, fondly patting his cheeks. “Though I find these little nonsense names rather endearing. Like George and Floofybunnikins, meaningless gibberish, but amusing all the same.”

“He’s a red panda, so why don’t we call him Red?” Always happy to chip in, Sorya left off tying Rain’s robes and poked the red panda’s tail, only to laugh as he jumped and clutched his rear close. “HongHong is so cute.”

“Too common,” Anrhi declared, and from the looks of it, Sarnai agreed. “Go to any stable and I guarantee you’ll find a HongHong waiting inside.”

“What about...”

While the twins bandied names about with Sarnai, Song focused on Rain and Sent, “What name would you give him?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day, another text. Or maybe it’s the same day. I don’t know yet.

Don’t answer it.

Just ignore it.

I can’t see the screen, only the light it emits, and that will soon go dark if I leave it be.

That said, the phone wouldn’t light up if it wasn’t something important, like the safety and well-being of my loved ones. That’s how I set all this up. The computer is a big connection to the outside world, limited omniscience and all that jazz, while the phone is... smaller in scale, with less processing power and applications, mostly just a way for the outside world to reach me. Technically, I could use either one to do both, but division of Intent is important when crafting Keystones, even ones which were hastily thrown together through unconscious need.

Which means this is important. It could be life and death.

I should just check.

It can’t hurt too much.

I can always sever more emotions if need be.

Besides, who knows how long I’ve been sitting here in the darkness of the Void? Could be seconds. Could be years. Won’t know until I check the phone, right?

The moment I decide to check, the phone appears in my hand, though I don’t recall reaching for it or even moving my arm. That’s good. It means I’m becoming more detached from my physical body, that my mind is adapting to oblivion. Progress. One step forward, two steps back however, as I scroll through all of Mama Bun’s snoot selfies. Too cute, but I can’t keep comforting her, because that’s probably how she figured out I was still in here. Thus far, she’s the only one who’s noticed though, so that’s good. Passion and yearning from Yan, tender frustration from Mila, wholehearted devotion from Luo-Luo, love and platitudes from Mom, the works essentially. Warm and fuzzy feelings, all which pains me to sever, but I do so regardless of my reservations. The only other messages of note are a few stray thoughts from Sorya and Anrhi, both of whom are stronger than they let on. Not physically stronger, but mentally, because sometimes even I forget that they’re both technically slaves. They’re just so chipper and happy all the time, it’s easy to overlook the fact that they both lived harsh lives, but they never gave up. They never surrendered. They smiled and soldiered on, because there was nothing else they could do.

Not like me. I gave up. That’s why I’m here. Because I can’t cut it out there, in the real or imagined world. I should feel shame or guilt, but I don’t. Those are gone, severed with the rest of my emotions. I’m beyond all that now. I’ve accepted my weakness, because that is the only way I can endure.

A surge of emotion accompanies the next text, and I unconsciously cut it off. I’m trying to divest myself of all emotion, so I can’t be accepting it willy nilly from other people or I’ll never reach oblivion. The Aura is from Song, a friendly greeting, and I can tell she’s been using her Aura more often of late. It’s cute, she doesn’t know how to express emotions with her words or actions, so she just does it through Aura. Not a bad way to go about it, since you can really only share genuine emotions through Aura, just like you can only Orate with genuine passion. Emotion. That’s what Heavenly Energy craves, and that’s why I need to get rid of all of mine. Emptiness within, matched by emptiness...

Holy shit. Song wants to name the red panda.

...Okay. This is big. This is important. What do we name him? Guan Suo? That seems tactless, and might not even be accurate. I should’ve thought about it while I was omniscient, but I didn’t, so I have no idea who this red panda really is. I suppose it’s the Ship of Theseus paradox. The red panda might well be Guan Suo reborn, but if nothing of the original Guan Suo remains, is it still Guan Suo? It might also just be Ping Ping’s Natal Soul given physical form, the giant red panda she brought me to visit every time I was there. Huh. Natal Soul. Yea, that seems right. Does that mean all the other living creatures in Ping Ping’s Natal Palace were also Natal Souls? Or was she creating non-denominational Spectres, severed portions of her own soul shaped with Intent and infused with Emotion, the very emotions she felt when meeting their real life counterparts?

That seems… dangerous. Couldn’t one of those Natal Souls take over? Should I check on Ping Ping’s Natal Palace? She most certainly reformed it by now. No. What am I thinking? It could be a trap. After what happened last time, why would I ever leave again? Why am I so stupid? This is probably another clever ploy from Zhen Shi, attempting to lure me out once again. Hell, I might not even be safe. Who says he can’t stroll right in and pluck me out? Just because he hasn’t done it before doesn’t mean it’s impossible. It might’ve just been easier convincing me to leave on my own.

Shut it down. Shut it all down. Forget naming the red panda, forget checking on Ping Ping, forget all my questions and curiosity. Forget my fear, my shame, my anger, and self-loathing, forget my love, my affection, my longing, and more. Sever it all, seek emptiness within, and peace and tranquility will follow.

The phone goes dark and I subsist in the Void once more.

I am no one, of nothing.

This is where I belong.

Here, alone with the nothingness.

Time passes. A minute, an hour, a day, I don't know how long.

My nerves tingle, from my scalp down to my toes.

The pores on my skin open.

A warm refreshing breeze moves through me.

It settles in my stomach, a soothing feeling.

One which sets my anxiety to spiking.

Heavenly Energy. This is Heavenly Energy, settling not in my Core which sits shattered and emptied, but my physical body itself. In my distress, I find myself unable to cut off the flow, because I’ve already severed all connection to my physical form, or so I thought. No, I did sever those ties, but the Heavenly Energy is rebuilding them, and in my current, quasi-dormant state, I lack the power to sever them once again. The Heavenly Energy seeps into me, and I can do nothing but watch its progress and mourn my failure, until it occurs to me to check the phone. There’s nothing there to explain what’s happening aside from the presence of a few old friends, and I’m left with no choice but to turn on the computer and don the headset once more to try and figure a way out of this mess.

The long wait torments me with its agonizing lethargy, the PC slow to boot up because I made it so. It’s part of the call centre package, where dreams go to die, and as cute as it might’ve been to make this an authentic experience, it’s really biting me in the ass now.

Fucking hell. I spent all that time divesting myself of emotion, memory, and personality, yet now it’s all back again in spades.

The monitor flickers on, and my renewed limited omniscience tells me I was not as successful as I believed, because once again, my powers of denial and self-delusion carried me far. I only thought I was making progress towards oblivion, but I’m no further than when I first started, all on account of my constantly buzzing phone. I got to pretend like I was only taking the most important messages, but instead, I was barely filtering anything out besides Ping Ping’s Loving Aura. The poor girl is beside herself with grief, but at least she’s not so far gone as to succumb to weakness, and is even having herself a fun little swim at this very moment. The Spectres of her mind are not what I originally thought, and in fact might be more beneficial than harmful, but only because she is such a pure and kindhearted creature. No wonder Pong Pong’s Natal Palace was devoid of life, because any Spectres he created would be tainted by his own experiences, fruit of the poisoned tree as it were. Same with me, which is why I unconsciously found all my Natal Palace villagers creepy and unsettling, though thankfully I eventually got rid of them all.

Well... all except one, one I clung onto until it was almost too late. Mahakala saved me in more ways than one, and I am only now just realizing it.

While part of me struggles with this newfound truth, another part assesses my current dilemma, and all becomes clear. Rather than my manor bedroom, I am now in the bathroom, but not in the marble bath chiselled into the ground. Instead, I sit nestled in the portable stone tub which I came to enjoy so much, but it is not water which I seep in, or at least not water alone. A medicinal bath has been brewed for me, done so using a formula put together by Taduk and Li TieGuai, with help from Taiyi ZhuShen, Taokang Geyan, and Lishan Suzhen, the three Healers I made connections with way back in Sinuji. It feels like a lifetime ago, but was in fact less than a year, yet so much has happened in the time since. All of them are present here and now, on standby to ensure nothing goes wrong and that their expertise is available should it be needed. Mom has Mama Bun in hand, while Tokta is also here, alongside an army of junior Healers from all walks of life, packed into my massive bathroom and inspecting my naked form with enough focus to make a life-long nudist blush.

“Slow and steady,” Li TieGuai says, cautioning his Mentor who’s doing the stirring. Despite his many failures, Taiyi ZhuShen is still the most experienced man in the room when it comes to making medicinal baths, so everyone involved thought it best to leave this to him. “Rather than one, long bath to refine the body, it is safer to use a succession of shorter baths instead.”

“Yes, absolutely,” ZhuShen replies, proud as a peacock of his brilliant Disciple and more than happy to take orders, sprinkling in some sort of powder from a measuring spoon while stirring the heated water thoroughly. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. Haste makes waste, as they say, haste makes waste.”

“Careful!” TieGuai leans forward on his crutches while his Junior Brothers, Tao Zi and PingGuo, help support his weight, their injuries long Healed and pride restored. Word of their exploits have spread far and wide, and no longer are they referred to as failures to their faces, though behind closed doors, many still call them freaks and abominations. That doesn’t matter though, because all they care about is their Mentor’s reputation, one which has now been restored thanks to their heroics, heroics they feel they could not have accomplished without my help. For this and more, this Master and Disciple quartet have committed everything to helping my recovery, even browbeating the other strangers in the room to swear an Oath to keep it all a secret. “The medicine must penetrate down to his blood vessels, but not so far as to reach his bones. Too much too quickly could hurt more than help, because we must build up his foundation in order to support his finished, refined body.”

“Of course, of course, my mistake.” Not really. ZhuShen judged my limits correctly and TieGuai is just being overly cautious, but that’s fine because this means more time for me to think. What do I do? Whisper lies into their ears to get them to stop? No, I can’t do that, because then I’d be no different from Zhen Shi. The truth won’t work either, because I can’t bear to admit my weakness to the people who love me most, and I’m not sure it would even sway Mom. She’d probably bring me back to life kicking and screaming all the way, then lecture me about how I’m being selfish for wanting to leave them all behind. Which is what I’m doing, but I can only bear to do it because I’m not sure how real any of this is. I do know that if my body is refined as expected, the leftover Heavenly Energy will reshape and reform my Core, and then I’ll no longer be able to isolate myself from my perceptions. I’ll have no choice but to wake, because my body will force consciousness upon me once my bladder fills and my instincts kick in.

My Path to Oblivion will be defeated by my need to piss. What. The actual. Fuck?

Worst of all? I was the one who planted the idea in TieGuai’s mind, so did I sow the seeds of my own defeat? Or did Zhen Shi hear what I told ‘TieGuai’, and is using it to force me back to the waking world and face the pain and suffering which awaits me? Frozen with indecision, I sit at the monitor and stare at the proceedings, wondering what I am supposed to do next. I still have some weeks before the medicinal baths show results, but that’s nothing. The clock is ticking, and even with all the information in the world, I have no idea what I can do to stop my inevitable return to reality.

I can’t do this. I’m not ready. I need more time.

Please.

Help me.

Someone.

Anyone.

...

And as always, my prayers go unanswered, which means if I want to stay here in the void, then I’ll have to make it happen myself.

Chapter Meme