It fell apart into segments that looked vaguely like orange peel and revealed a spherical object in the middle. It was covered in words and Sam saw that he was able to read them. As he did so, he frowned. It was some sort of dense mathematical problem that he had not the faintest idea how to solve. It involved so many strange squiggly lines that Sam was beginning to grow nauseous just from looking at it. The only thing that he recognized was the number 1 next to the problem, which seemed to indicate that it was only the first out of a long number of puzzles. Frowning, Sam got to work. There was no point in giving up, and Sam recognized something in the equation as he worked. He was not closer to solving it, but he suddenly knew what it was. It was a strangely elongated version of Fermat’s Last theorem. Sam had read a book about that a few years ago, and he remembered that the man who had solved it had required hundreds of pages of equations in order to prove that his interpretation was correct. Luckily for Sam, he knew what the answer was because of reading the book.
“This equation is true,” Sam said to the sphere. It blinked green and opened, revealing another layer. He pumped his fist in delight at how something that he had seen as some extraneous fact when he had read the book was now so much more important than it had seemed back then. The next layer of the sphere had a sentence written on it and Sam read it out loud to himself.
“Why do you fight? Huh? What does that mean?” Was the thing literally asking him why he engaged in battle?
“I fight to survive. If someone else is trying to kill me, then I have to defend myself.” The sphere went red and the number 3 appeared above it, suddenly turning into a two. The meaning was clear. He only had two more chances to solve this.
Pondering the meaning more deeply, Sam realized that it was acting him in a roundabout way as to why he struggled to grow stronger in the face of adversity. That was actually a complicated question, and Sam found that he didn't really know the answer. He could create any number of platitudes such as that he fought for justice, or to grow stronger, but he knew that none of those really encapsulated it. Why had he been able to fight when the System had come rather than just giving up as the entire world order was changed? What allowed him to rise to where he was now? The fact that he had been able to reach the top 5 of the strongest people on Earth was only now starting to sink in. It was more than an impressive feat, it was downright improbable. He knew that he had the advantage of his strange Dao heritage, but that was not solely the reason. The truth slowly started to dawn upon him as he looked at the sphere and ruminated on all of his exploits after the System had arrived. He was special now, something beyond the ordinary. Sam had earned his place in the upper echelons of humanity through his grit and purpose. Suddenly the answer came into his mind like the first raindrop onto a drought stricken land.
“I fight because it gives my life meaning.” The sphere went green again and the next layer appeared. Sam’s eyes were starting to get blurry and he rubbed at them to clear them. To his surprise, his hands came back wet. He was crying. Stating such a profound truth of his journey as a cultivator resonated with him on a spiritual level and he suddenly felt like he was more connected to himself as a person. A System notification appeared in front of him and he wiped his eyes off to read it.
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You have found your Mantra.
“I fight for meaning.”
Your Mantra is what catalyzes your life, what makes you go through the struggle of cultivation, the pain and the strife in the hopes that one day you will have a brighter future. Knowing on a basic level what motivates you will allow you to persevere when others will fail.
Sam read the message and then re read it, smiling at how perfectly it described the feeling that he felt at that moment. He saw that there was an unread message from earlier, but he ignored it for now, moving back to the orb. Outside of the room, something started banging on the door and the voice of Berrigious rang out as if the man was standing next to Sam.
“Sam Atlas! You will pay for what you have done. I command you to-” Sam slapped his hands to his ears as soon as the man started talking, but he could still hear it loud and clear. As soon as he heard the word command, Sam knew that it was time for drastic measures. He reached out with his hands again and slammed them into his ears, rupturing his eardrums. Surprisingly, there was not that much pain, only a strange sensation of being submerged in water. He withdrew his hands, noting that they were covered in blood. Now he could work in peace.
Outside the room, Berrigious was in severe risk of having an aneurysm. Well, his clone was. The real Berrrigious was far too strong to suffer from such an affliction, but if he wasn't careful, the sheer rage that he was projecting through his link to the imprint would short it out.
The surrounding solar system started to tremble and shake as Berrigious screamed back in his own universe. Forcing his will upon the space around him, the noise was audible even in the vacuum and it was impossibly loud. The closest planet was struck with category 12 earthquakes, and mile high tsunamis which wiped out the vast majority of its inhabitants in seconds. On the other planets, the effects were not as pronounced, but they were still devastating. Still not rid of his rage, Berrigious raised his fist and punched out into the void. A shockwave of condensed Dao energy and mana eradicated the entire system in a blink of an eye, leaving him floating in the middle of a massive cloud of dust. Over time, it would coalesce and turn into a nebula, but not one that any sane person would admire. Tainted by the fear and anger of the inhabitants of the planets that it was made of, the nebula would, over the course of a few billion years, turn into a nightmarish semi sentient being that hungered for the cores of planets. For now however, it was nothing and Berrigious completely ignored it.
Now that his anger was somewhat stemmed, he was able to think rationally again. Sighing in relief that he hadn't been anywhere near the center of his domain when he had lost control, he tried to think of some way to enter Sam’s room. The man already had the box with the contracts in it, and from what Berrigious had heard, he was already almost finished with it. If he was able to open it, then Berrigious’ tentative foothold on the planet and its future would be completely gone. Without anything to offer it, the System imprint would abandon him, and Berrigious would be left with the taste of defeat in his mouth, a peculiar flavor that seemed to grow more bitter as one grew more powerful. As a being that could destroy entire solar systems, Berrigious’ tongue curled in on itself at the thought, or at least it would have if the entire concept was not just a metaphor.