The strike to my head with its released finger elicits a crack along my forehead, and I can feel my skull fracture as the impact cuts off my vision. The bone inside my head feels odd, as if someone is hovering a finger right in front of my forehead, only a thousand times more severe and painful. But as I begin to stumble backward because of my head flying back, the demon speaks again.

"Vualki best! You close! Oh! Sacinate needs help!"

The sound of the demon speaking and the broken words coming from it make my shaking and trembling brain synthesize some kinds of thoughts, visions, and memories as everything begins to break down.

Despite my eyes not working from the impact on my brain, a world created only of chains appears from behind my eyes as I realize something. I've underestimated Chain Eyes this whole time. Everything within hundreds of feet is revealed to my blinded eyes. I'm given so much information that my damaged mind can barely comprehend it all, but I do know one thing. The outline of the demon. Thin chains cover every part of its body as thick ones cover its wounded hands.

The truth of the world, huh? "Ponderer and observer of reality." Only at the very edge of death do I understand what it meant. Time seems to slow as my brain shuts off, yet everything is revealed to my eyes; the Philosopher's eyes see all truth. You just have to close your eyes to realize what lies beyond. I was naive to think my first skill, my foundation, was so shallow. More lies in the depths of Chain Eyes, just as more depth remains for all skills. You merely have to dive and find it.

I take everything I've learned about Ether and hike it up to eleven, pushing all my knowledge into Chain Eyes at once, elevating the speed of Ether going to my eyes, the number of streams, and imbuing my will into each of them to give the bits of Ether my Sigil's signature. All the while, I intricately twist the Ether into braids for more power.

Everything moves in long frames, each second extending into a minute as the instinctual parts of my brain try to find a way to survive, but I can only observe. My eyes go into detail about Vualki, and I learn more about this demon. I sense its limits, insecurities, and what it does not think it can accomplish. This sense is shallow, but within this extended time, I gain clarity.

Vualki seems to worry that it is not enough. That it is weaker than the Hierarch, over there fighting Chief Birdie. I don't know where that word comes from, but my eyes, no, my mind, tell me it's true.

It also realizes that it is wounded. That it pushed itself to the limit, both in Ether and physical strength. Any more effort, and it will die just as the human is doing so in front of it. It doesn't seem to regret it, however. Vualki has some weird sense of honor and dignity that I didn't know could exist within demons.

But I seem to understand its point of view. How it sees reality as well.

I am a Philosopher, after all. And my own ability surprises me as, for a split second, I see myself through the demon's eyes. A human falls backward with a burst of blood coming from its forehead and literally every single other piece of flesh it has. Its hand is wide open, the machete it held broken and now falling to the ground.

It sees me as an obstacle to overcome in its path to triumph. It seems to have lofty goals, but I cannot learn them. I'm just a Philosopher, after all. Not a mind reader. I can only see what they see.

Wait, no. I'm a Daydreamer, too, right? How much of my Sigil have I ignored due to lack of experimentation? How much does everyone miss because of that? I doubt Earl misses anything, but I do not know. What I do know is that without even realizing it, I begin to imagine a world where I am not falling. One where my fist clenches and my feet stabilize. One where I put my whole body and all of my Ether from my gasp into an Explosion to slay this demon just as injured as me.

My perspective stays with the demon as it begins to turn around, assuming that I am dead from my wounds that would end any human ten times over. The strike to the skull was the final straw in its eyes. That mode of thinking makes sense, but I have my own. And I can visualize the future of my thinking, of my philosophy with my very mind. And then? All it takes is for me to struggle for it. My Ironheart allows me to persevere past what should be humanly possible. The will turns into a strength that flows through my veins, muscles, and body.

Only at the very edge of death and on the brink of being able to advance to the Wondrous Realm do I truly understand my first three Sigils. I've been relying on my Absolution and just pure toughness alongside the help of the Bloody Palm this whole time.

Chain Eyes has simply been to see if people are dangerous. Daydream has been supremely useful but limited in function. I've never really thought to use it for anything besides protecting my mind or quick enhancements in strength. Ironheart is similar. Struggler Defiance, I feel, only exists because of my Absolution in the first place. Had I not had the Absolution, for some reason, I think I would have only gotten Ironheart. I know not how I reached this truth, but at the boundary of death with my eyes closed, much is revealed to me in spiraling thoughts that question the world. I've been far too restrictive in my use of my skills due to a lack of imagination, and that's what a Philosopher is all about, right? Testing boundaries, both of themselves and the world, with their creativity to see how far they can go.

In contrast, all I've done is beat my fists against a wall, hoping it will budge, never contemplating why the wall was there or if there is a way around it. I may be a Moribound Struggler, but that does not mean I have to die just yet.

The Philosopher's world is built upon truth and imagination.

The Daydreamer's dreams are not real.

The Struggler fights against that world's truth while reaching for those dreams.

I take a risk, and if this leap of faith fails, then I am certainly dead. But only one future exists for me. The one where I do as The Cabin says. I perceive the truth of the world, dream of a better one, and struggle for that world. Never before have I truly done what it asked. I might have perceived, I might have dreamed, I might have struggled, but I've never done all of them together.

I sit at the very edge of Ether saturation, a region of threat and caution I've grown so used to over the past months. It's almost become a friend at this point. My feet dangle off the side of the wall that keeps my body safe, my limit for Ether. I've gone past my body's limit, but another yet remains.

And as I feel another sense of a paper-thin bubble wrap around my mind, I slide myself off, taking every ounce of Ether I have and forcing it into a trio of skills.

My dying brain, with a lack of oxygen, blood, and sustenance, cannot achieve what I ask of it, but I do not care. I push even further as I jump off that wall of the sanctuary, pushing off with my legs into the void, daring it to devour me.

I can feel my eyes burn with Ether as Chain Eyes is pushed beyond its normal limits, Ether flowing through the normal pattern at ten times what it normally does. I push it even further as I send two dozen strands of Ether into it all at once, each demanding the skill to work on their own. Then, a final push comes as I twist the Ether all at once, braiding it another time for even more power. Instantly, the perspective of the demon grows clear as I lose a direct connection to my body; only the chains of my body are what I can see.

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I can feel my mind overheat with effort as a scene replays in my imagination over and over again. Daydream relentlessly combats reality by imagining a new one where I am instead killing the demon instead of dying; all the while, it also defends me from the Bloody Palm. Ironheart allows me to not only split my thoughts but also my skills. Why would a Philosopher be limited in breadth? Any question can be pondered. Any reality thought of. Any chain resisted.

I can feel my soul or my will. I'm unsure if there is a difference, burn in agony as it is the carrier of all this effort. The will of the Moribound Struggler heaves with effort as I finally see something change in this incredibly slow-motion word that Chain Eyes has given me at the brink of death. No, it's not Chain Eyes that has given me this slowness; that is simply what happens upon the death of the mind. Everything slows as the mind grasps for any way to save itself. Good thing the Philosopher uses that very mind to do so.

The demon stops turning as it senses movement from my body, and I can feel its confusion and inability to understand. It can only watch in weakness and slowness as my body moves, and I do the same. I do not control my body right now. It is my dream and will that does so. I merely watch from the perspective of the demon as every part of me shudders, a carriage on its final journey.

My right leg, which looks more like a turkey leg after a meal, puts an inhuman amount of pressure on the ground cracking the dirt and stabilizing my fall, my Daydream and Ironheart forcing it to hold together by further weakening the chains on my leg. Then, I see my back and chest bulge with strength, bone shards falling out with the movement alongside thin streams of blood as my arm is pulled back. All the while, my head is still flung back as my whole body moves like a puppet of some being's will.

Of my will. I feel a huge amount of resistance as my whole body is put into a punch. The demon can only stand still as I move faster than its weakened body can react. I twist with such power that I can feel the wind move from the surface of the demon's skin as this fist of mine approaches the demon and mine's shared vision.

Then, just before the fist slams into the demon's stomach, I feel the chains on my body abruptly tighten in strength as everything from my Strugglers Gasp is funneled into my fist into an Explosion. My entire body slows to a crawl, but the Ether within my body does not.

The Bloody Palm, saturated in so much Ether that even it can only tremble, collides with the demon's stomach softly as my whole body is abruptly restrained from the movement of Strugglers Gasp's Ether. But that's part of the plan. My dream ended with its death, not injury.

A split second after the soft impact of my knuckle against the demon's stomach, I open my palm and press Ironbound against it as the Ether is detonated. An explosion of Ether so concussive occurs that my entire arm is blown backward, the Bloody Palm being severely injured with only a single finger remaining. I realize as it transpires that had it been an average arm, I'd be a cripple right now. A quiet scream comes from within me of the dark agony of the Bloody Palm's pain as a view reaches me from the demon.

It slowly looks down at its stomach and allows me to see the aftermath from its perspective. A hole the size of a coffee table has been blown into its belly, reaching from its hips to its shoulders. Liquid falls in clumps so huge that the demon instantly realizes its death. But unlike the death of Hura, it doesn't seem angry or prideful. It seems to die with dignity as its final act is raising its broken arm and placing a finger covered in its watery-like blood against my forehead. As if it was happy to have fought me. As if in another time, another place, another world, we would have been rivals.

Its lips move, but no sound comes out of its annihilated lungs. I am only able to generally learn its existence from the perspective I share. The thing is that it is much more detailed than the words it says.

I feel the concept of a pyramid of darkness where one has to climb to survive. A monster chases them relentlessly, and if they stop for a moment, they die. And this person that nearly died in that pyramid of darkness found a way to keep moving forward from another that saved it from the darkness. This other being taught it how to fight, not the actual techniques, but how to treat others with honor. How to enjoy a fight to the greatest extent as that is all it would receive. I only get a single picture in my mind as Vualki's vision goes black, and I return to darkness.

A young Volkar is pulled up by a bear covered in white feathers adorned with a beak instead of a maw. And behind that bear stood a legion of demons, each with a face somehow beaming with a brand of inhuman pride.

Before I can understand the many thoughts and feelings that come from the demon, darkness returns, and I fall to the ground on top of the demon's corpse. After I slam into the ground, the feeling of collapse fully returns to me as I come back to my body.

Chain Eyes allowed me to see from another perspective and see how they saw the world. It also protected me from the pain and agony of a body heading fast toward death. The Ether in my body has far eclipsed what I can normally handle; I'm just glad that the strike to my head has still left me blind, so I don't have to see my body melting apart from the Ether.

As I lay here, though, I feel a resonance deep within the core of my Sigil, and I am reminded of the Philosopher Sigil within the demon. If I advance, the Ether problem will fix itself as it has before. A unique benefit of the Philosopher's path of Sigilis.

But how? I can't move, and I'm stuck in the dark. How will I reach the Sigil? It is likely underneath me somewhere in the demon's body, but I am immobile and can't grab it. Maybe I can use Ether to pull it to me? But that will just make me fall apart faster, and time is ticking. But it's precisely because time is ticking that I should do that.

I can't see it, though. I stopped using Ether the second that I finished Explosion due to the pain, so I only have one option.

I can feel my whole being knurl in the effort, shredding my brain apart, as I force Ether through my body and into my eyes, forcing Chain Eyes into existence. But as the Ether wages a war of scorched earth toward my eyes, I feel everything from my core to my pupils turn to mush alongside torture so piercing that I feel my focus get ripped apart. My brain itself is being turned to fleshy goo from the Ether that rips it apart from the inside. Barely am I able to recover before I'm given an impossibly short glimpse of the world in a view of black and white lit up only by luminous chains.

But in that short glimpse, I see a blinding light beneath me near the demon's right elbow. It's Sigil!

Once more, I force Ether from my core through my ruined body toward my hand as I create Leash and throw the construct of Ether at where the light was. Agony wracks through me once more as I feel so lightheaded I forget what I'm doing. My thoughts stagnate, and I stop existing entirely to myself. Only when the presence of a three-sided Sigil with one side being Metamorphosed enters my mind from the Leash do I remember and frantically pull the familiar one into me.

The second I do so, I feel instantaneous relief to my very soul and pressure on the soles of my feet as if I was standing. Slowly, almost unbelievingly, I open my eyes, revealing a dark but familiar cabin to my eyes. Dark purple light radiates in from the outside, but no threat exists. No changes have occurred either to this place despite the fact I've advanced into a new realm of being. Or at least that's what's meant to happen at 4th Sigil.

I let out a breath I've been holding for far too long, only no air comes out. I'm in The Cabin, after all. This place isn't real, at least not like a physical place. This exists only in the soul, a manifestation of our paths by a long-dead God.

A short moment of me breathing in and out air that doesn't exist is the only thing in existence for me. Just a few moments of calm after what happened is what I need. The only place where I can think and spend time is here, for time seems to stop within The Cabin.

My thoughts fly at incredible speed now that my messy, concussed, and heavily damaged brain is no longer slowing them down. I can't believe I limit myself so heavily in my Sigil skills. How did I never figure out Chain Eyes could do that?! Have I really never closed my eyes with them active? Or is it that I've never been put in a situation where I had no other way to see the world than the skill itself? I guess I've never been blinded. Nor have I tried to use an ocular skill with my eyes closed.

I don't know. But what I do know is that I need to be more explorative in my skills. I feel like I'm learning too much. Most people only have a few and develop them to their very limits, creating incredibly powerful combinations and effects. Like Virgil only has half a dozen or so skills, but he uses them so adeptly and perfectly that it seems like he has ten times as many. His darkness is used to fight, hide, move, and stay safe. Meanwhile, it seems I have one skill for each thing, and they don't even seem to do a good job at that thing. It takes multiple of mine to do what other people can do in one, and even if that's not the case, they can adeptly combine the skills they have to create new effects.

Otto is a great example of this. He has dozens of skills and combines them to create hard-to-beat skills. I have neither of those attributes, the closest I come to combining skills is what I just did. Using Chain Eyes, Daydream, and Ironheart to reverse a would-be death. Does that count as a Quilt? Maybe. I think I have to use them better in unison for that. I could feel there was room for improvement. A lot.

I think that fighting someone using their own perspective alongside my own would be incredibly powerful. I can't read their mind, but I can slowly understand their mode of thinking. How they see the world. With that, I don't have to directly battle reality and force it to my will. I only have to change the world they see slightly enough to give myself an edge.

While I stand here thinking, the small glow from the tome in front of me on the purple wood table seems to beckon me, eliciting me to walk toward it without even noticing. And as I stumble into the table, my eyes are drawn to the lines of words already written into the page with an indecipherable glow that enters my mind directly.

The reader of this page has proven themselves. In all the ways they possibly could. You have achieved Release.

Your fourth Sigil toward Freedom, and toward Limitlessness. You now walk toward your inevitable Freedom.

You have completed a single Act of Absolution, as such, your Sigil will be slightly shifted to fit and mold with your old.

The Ebbing Captive

A single question remains for your Metamorphosis, my dear Captive, for only the Philosopher may make this accord over their truth and future.

Do you prefer to see others' perspectives, delve into your own dreams, or stand tall with a perspective of your own?