Chapter 65 - Collecting Insights
After his newfound discovery, he spent a short while contemplating the nature of Visions and soon found a more succinct and appropriate explanation for them.
He believed Visions were actually a cluster of ideas and insights into one's viewpoint biased to perform a certain action. So, when an Observer executed a Vision, a chain of ideas and insights was chosen from that cluster to approximate the Vision's effects in a new situation to produce the intended result.
However, as he sat there and solidified his understanding of these ideas, he suddenly felt something. A distinct sense of loss. It didn't make any sense, so he checked himself all over.
Then, the possibility crossed his mind, and his heart fell. He interpreted the cogs in his perception, then repeated the new Vision he had theorized a while ago. And to his horror, some of the nodes that he was consistently going through in the previous rush of thoughts...were missing.
They were gone.
He slumped back on the quaking ground as he came to the realization, It's my memory, isn't it?
That was the only explanation. He didn't have a Thought Space, and that probably meant any new insights would only be useful as long as he remembered them down to the smallest detail. It would be one thing if they were words or pictures, but these were ideas and abstract concepts. How did one force their subconscious to remember such constructs?
I can't. It's just not possible.
But who said that was the only solution to this problem?
I just have to be quick.
Yes. He would have to consolidate the Thought space and shade his perception soon after he had accumulated a bunch of insights in his memory. That was the only option. He couldn't and wouldn't spend days here trying to get familiar with each and every one of those insights.
That method worked for others because they couldn't accumulate insights regarding a Vision at his pace, but if he did that, he'd be wasting the opportunity, and given how much the ground was shaking, he was sure he didn't have much time left in here.
Knowing that he'd have to go on a no-nonsense focused state after this, he pondered this from all angles to ensure he didn't waste time later.
Nodding, he thought, But I can't imprint it right away either. All I know how to do is stick some paper together and fix some cogs.
That would be an utter waste. This was an optimization problem—he would have to cram as many important ideas in his memory before he made that leap.
What if the cluster of Thoughts was set in stone once he imprinted them onto Thought Space? He would be left with a weak-ass Vision that could barely manage to stitch three pieces of paper together.
That would be tragic.
On that note, why can I use Instability Inducement at all without a Thought Space?
Cera had told him that it didn't make sense for someone like him, who hadn't shaded his perception, to be flinging out Visions. Did that mean the Vision had found some way to embed itself into his scattered Thought Space?
However, that's when an idea crossed his mind, No, that's too simple. What if it was something far more involved, something related to the Rune in my head? Could the Vision have...imprinted itself unto the Rune?
Yes! That would answer a lot of questions brewing in his mind. Like why he was able to gain a Vision just by reading a few words off a parchment or why he could use it as a shadeless Observer. If the Vision and the Rune had some kind of affinity, it was possible that the Rune acted as a Thought Space for the Vision.
Thought that did lead to a question in and of itself. Could he use the Rune as a Thought Space for himself?
He was nodding for everything until now, but this time, he shook his head, I won't try to use it as my personal Thought Space even if it's ten times better than whatever I can cobble together. It's just not worth it.
What if one day, Hensen came along and stripped him of the Rune? Vern would be helpless, left completely at the madman's mercy. He had to build up strength to resist the lunatic, not hand his hard work to him on a silver platter.
Before getting started with this, he massaged his head a little. It was getting harder and harder for him to keep his focus. Even though Representation wasn't a problem right now, his brain was still paying the toll. This whole day had been exhausting physically, mentally, and emotionally. On top of that, repeatedly using foreign Thoughts to accelerate his thinking only exacerbated the situation.
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CLAP
He slapped his cheeks as hard as he could and felt a surge of blood rush to his brain. Whining was for those who had the luxury. He didn't. He was always on a clock. So he would act like it.
Time to get it done!
This was the final stretch. He could almost see the light at the end of this tunnel.
He sat back up and cleared his mind before he started, Right. So, I need to induce Stability in more objects around me.
There were quite a few things that could be stabilized. His attire, for one, but he didn't want to become the most notorious seamster in the city. He wanted the limited insights his brain could manage to be very practical.
Well, for that, there were also the fissures in the ground, which could do with some stabilizing. But he hadn't forgotten what happened to him when he messed with that Polluted statue in the station. Any manipulation that could cause too many cascading changes would suck him dry in no time.
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Yes, it seemed like he had infinite Representation, but he wouldn't bet his life on having enough to mend the fissure in the ground all the way to its center by the pyramid's peak.
He wasn't suicidal yet, and even if it didn't kill him, what if it made him unconscious—causing him to miss the opportunity to shade his perception? All in all, a bad idea.
So, after some careful consideration, he settled on a few objects available to him in this ruin of a world. The list included—a cracked pillar in the building closest to him, his umbrella, pen, mechanisms of his gun, and finally himself.
He would start with these and monitor his memories at all times to see if he missed something. He tried to keep the sample biased towards more realistic scenarios he might face in the future so that insights related to these could always come in handy.
With a plan at hand, he didn't waste even a moment and began the mad rush. He shifted his focus to the large pillar-like object that lay there in the ruin, a crack running down his length. He didn't dare move too close to the buildings, he could perceive it just fine from right here.
This was the perfect target because even though it was split down the middle, the other chunk was still on top of the other—meaning he wouldn't need to move them closer together.
In his perception, he assigned a dark gray to both the halves and considered how the balance would shift to accommodate them combining together. Then, he visualized how the seam between them would slowly mend itself and fade away. Once he felt he was sure enough about the details, he let his eyes do the rest.
Stabilize.
Another rush of thoughts claimed him, tunneling him through a bunch of ideas, and the border between the two chunks of the pillar began to disappear from its edges towards the center.
However, when he was about fifty percent done, it stopped. But Vern was ready this time. He wasn't going to wait for his perception to shatter and leave the Vision half-complete. The instant the automated guidance within his thoughts halted, he took over and directed the process himself.
In reality, the recovery of the pillar did suspend for a split second, but it picked right back up, and in another few breaths, it was finished. He had stabilized—no, repaired an architecture just with his thoughts.
How cool was that?
At least he considered it impressive. But he wasn't done. He had to cram more experience as soon as possible. So, he moved onto the Umbrella that was sitting on the ground. He had repaired the tiny gears that made up the Umbrella, but the whole contraption itself was still out of order.
But he wanted to take this chance to further test a theory. If it worked, he wouldn't mind losing some insights from his useless memory. He wanted to know just how much matter his Vision could create in the name of stability?
Because when things break, some of their particles are lost to the wind or get turned into a different kind of energy. Like when they repaired those bits of paper or shaped the cogs, it was creating matter out of nothing. He wanted to know the limit of that.
So he picked up the contraption and looked at its rotation mechanism which was missing more than a dozen gears. He perceived the whole lattice as a dark gray, with the missing gears as gaping black holes in the machinery.
Now, instead of using the cogs he already had, he visualized new ones materializing out of thin air within the mechanism, plugging the holes as he shifted the balance of those dark hollows to a bright white.
Stabilize.
Another rush of thoughts claimed him…
CRACK
But his perception shattered the very next instant, and he was jerked out of it. Expecting this to happen, he picked up the original cogs while eyeing the results of this short burst of manipulation and was pleasantly surprised.
PITTER PATTER
Small pieces of metal dropped on the ground from the umbrella, and on closer scrutiny, they all looked like half-cut gears and cogs. So his Vision could indeed create matter out of nothing! But it was severely limited. All of these components were practically useless.
And he quickly figured out the rationale behind it.
Creation and Structure are two separate Fundamentals, after all. Can't expect one to do the job of the other too well. Creation-related fundamentals were grouped in the lower-south-eastern Octant of the Insight Sphere, whereas Structural ideas resided within the upper-north-western Octant.
He was glad he had made the connection between Fundamentals and Observations. It was helping him comprehend why Observation worked the way it did.
Vern didn't linger on this discovery and moved on as he thought to himself, Let's do it correctly this time.
He first made sure all the original cogs were in proper shape, then he loosely plugged them into their desired position and induced stability in the whole contraption. This time, the cascade of thoughts pushed the seventy percent boundary, almost stabilizing the whole thing on its own.
Once that was done, he picked up the umbrella and clicked the primary switch on its shaft.
WHIRRRR
A smile appeared on his face as the intense grinding of the umbrella dulled out the noises of the crumbling world around him. After basking in the soothing sound for another moment, he closed the canopy and placed it inside a pocket of his coat on the ground.
While doing that, he pulled out the revolver and picked up the pen. These were his next experimental apparatus.
He first emptied the chamber of the gun, then induced a minor Instability into it. After fiddling with the grays in his perception for a while, he visualized both realities only to be swept up into the whirlwind of thoughts that piloted the Vision almost to completion. Closer to eighty percent—the rest he finished on his own.
Putting back the bullets into the chamber, he cocked the gun and—
BANGG
Still working, huh?
This was good. No, this was great. A little more push and he would be ready.
However, after performing the two-step routine of Instability-Stability on the pen, he groaned. He had just begun to feel optimistic about his memory not being a problem, but his fears were not unfounded. He felt it. Some of the thought nodes which his mind always went through at the start of the Vision were missing this time.
It was clear what was happening. He had reached the limit. But he had to go through this last trial no matter what. He would trade other Insights in his limited short-term memory for this one any day—hence the reason he left it for the end.
This last trial required him to be prepared. Mentally and physically.
He wiped the pen's nib clean off any residual ink and held it against his thumb. With a focused gaze and a hint of levity in his voice, he declared, "For Science!" and then drove the sharpened point into his thumb. The sharp tip ripped through the epidermis like butter and punctured it—blood leaking out of it in a constant stream.
He winced, acknowledging the acute sting, but refused to yield to the discomfort. Instead, he narrowed his perception on the wound. In his perception, it became a dark hollow surrounded by a blurry gray that became lighter the farther he Observed from the point of impact.
With an inner command, he envisioned a wave of restorative light sweeping over the darkness, its luminosity snuffing out the shadows and knitting the torn flesh together, cell by cell, layer by layer, restoring its previous unblemished state.
"Stabilize," he whispered with gritted teeth as a cascade of rapid-fire insights danced through his consciousness. When the flow of ideas ebbed, he took the cue and completed the procedure. The puncture on his thumb receded as if drawn back through time, leaving behind blood that now seemed misplaced—a random splotch almost.
"YESSS!" He shouted, throwing his fist up in the air.
It worked! It really worked. He still felt some pain in his thumb, but the wound was closed. He didn't know human anatomy well enough to know exactly what was going on underneath such that he still felt the pain, but this was good enough for him. The ability to close wounds would be nothing to balk at.
But he didn't give himself more than a couple seconds to celebrate. He had to imprint all this into his Thought Space. Right now. Missing out on embedding them in the Thought Space would really be the tragedy of ages.
He sat up straight and placed the pocket watch in front of him.
It was time to shade his perception.