Finding Tom was easy. I just had to walk into the dark section of the dungeon and call the grounder with a few insults. Passing Tom's test was much easier. I no longer had to employ the strategy of old, using the dungeon to fight itself. My swords and bow were all that was needed. It was hard to believe that the dungeon was ever a struggle in the first place. The beasts and bosses felt like low-level fodder. My kata sessions exerted more energy.

Within a couple of hours of passing the test, I was back in a hole in the ground. Earth piled upon my prone body as Tom hummed an old tune about Mother Muana. The last of the dirt covered me, leaving me completely buried. I didn't even have my straw to breathe through. Part of my theory was that it was the straw holding me back the whole time… or rather, the connection to life, air, and other impurities that didn't belong in the ritual of my soul.

Odd. I could no longer make out the words of Tom's song, even though it was a song I once knew well. I tossed the thought out and prepared for my body to die.

Pressure crushed me from every angle. My body broke. The scent of damp earth filled my nose. Tiny grains of grit pressed against my teeth. The muted sound of shifting soil was the only thing I could hear, like the world had been muffled and sealed away. An old part of me wanted to scream in fear and agony. If this were a loop before this one, I would've been doing just that. The lack of air would've killed me minutes ago. That was no longer the case. I had endured this trial so many times that it felt no different than lying on a terrible bed.

Dirt, rock, and energy broke my body in several pieces. The agonizing pain was dulled only by shallow meditation. I was in a state of mind similar to the mind's eye—present and yet distant. Time moved slowly in this state, dragging on the process. At the same time, I had complete control over my thoughts and reactions. The lack of air wasn't a problem, at least not yet.

I fought back panic as my body's foundation began to reset. It was usually around this time that I would pass out and die… or panic and die… or just die. The pain intensified. My soul ripped apart. If I could yell, I'd be shouting and cursing all the gods. Surely, progression didn't have to be so painful.

The weight of the world pressed and ground me. It was a new sensation of pain I hadn't experienced yet—proof that I'd lasted longer in the process. The tomb grew hotter, creating a new sensation. The combination of unpleasant feelings reached a boiling point.

I was no longer safe in my shallow meditation.

Panic and fear shot into my thoughts, begging me to give up, asking me to let go. It wasn't worth it. Tremendous damage was being done. There would be no recovery from this. I wavered under the assault. My trials never lasted this long. The process should be over. My heart beat rapidly. I thought the organ gave out minutes ago. Water cycled through my broken channels. The energy crashed against my core like a tide in a storm. It was an insidious pain that was impossible to endure.

Don't do this.

Please.

Let go.

Were those my thoughts? It sounded like my voice.

For the first time in a long time, I felt utterly alone. I was left to endure the agony alone. I'm not sure which part of me wanted to end the terrible process and which part stubbornly stuck it out. Hope abandoned me. I couldn't remember what this was all for.

Close your eyes.

My eyes were already closed.

Give up. You can try again. This is too dangerous.

No.

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The battle shifted from a focus on enduring pain to centering my will on the desired outcome. A goal that remained aloof and impossible to grasp, which stretched out the battle for control. The darkness pressed in closer, heavy and absolute. I almost didn't notice the thought at first—just a whisper at the edge of oblivion.

LIVE.

The word flared like lightning in my skull, tearing me out of the void.

LIVE.

LIVE.

LIVE.

The simple mantra cycled through my thoughts. It became my new focus. A promise made long ago to a man who had no hope. The same man who was trapped in a box and waiting to be rescued. I promised myself I would live.

No more dying.

As the world continued to break me, my mind became unbreakable. I had one goal and I would reach it. In my shallow meditation, I found refuge in the water surging through my channels. My mana meant so much for my survival… indeed, it was every bit a part of me as was my body and mind.

My mana wasn't trying to hurt me, I learned as I watched it crash against my core and torn channels. Instead, it was trying to reinforce my weakness. The cyan energy wanted the reset to be successful. No, it was serving my will. I took control of my mana—almost becoming one with it—an infusion of mind and energy. I directed it to the weakest parts of my body and the most vital functions. Under my command, I used the energy to revive my heart and bring much-needed life to my mind.

I didn't know how long I fought to live. I truly felt like I was past the point of living. It was only the mix of my mind and mana that kept me afloat. My body seemed to break several times over, and it was a constant effort to keep my vital organs functioning. I endured it all and continued to fight.

Throughout the battle, the constant pain lessened. My body no longer resisted the transformation process. It became like water—flowing with the process, allowing change and transformation to naturally take its course.

In the deep recess of my soul, I must've heard a click… a last segment falling into place. All at once, energy surged within. I felt so powerful, like I could shake the very world that entombed me. Then, like a last breath of air, the power vanished. Just as the weight of the earth was about to break me for good, Tom's massive arm pulled me from the grave.

I blinked at the glowing text in my mind's eye, unable to stop the grin spreading across my dirt-streaked face. The pain, the panic, the hours of agony—all of it had been worth it.

Congrats! You have reset your body foundation.

Your body essence has been reset.

You no longer have the rank of templar. Level and power adjusted.

Kip Mapper | Race: Islander Orc

Level: 15

Power: 23

Class: Ranger

Soul: Water | Rank: Lancer

Layers: 3 | Squire

Body: —

Agility: —

Endurance: —

Strength: —

Mind: Platinum

Knowledge: 3

Survival: 3

Wisdom: 3

Spirit: —

Perception: —

Refinement: —

Talent: —

Your rank is now at squire. Your level is 15. Your power is 23.

"Sogg's butchered beard," Tom said. "Ya did it… We did it. We actually reset yer body foundation."

I could barely see the excited grounder out of the corner of my eyes. There wasn't enough strength in my body left to move. I stayed still as a corpse, listening to my mentor celebrate and analyzing my progress. It seemed backward that I would have to lose levels and rankings to move forward. Wasn't this supposed to just be a soft reset? Why did I lose progress?

The setback didn't discourage or upset me, however. It was quite the opposite. I felt powerful—or that I could become powerful. As I looked at my soul and the foundations of my body that had been laid out, I nearly cried at my potential. It was just like looking at my platinum mind, yet my body essence had room for growth and could still be reforged. I didn't know if I could obtain a platinum-ranked body, but gold-ranked seemed possible—like that would be the bare minimum of my accomplishment.

"Not only that… ya got a perfect foundation," Tom said, between chuckles. "Gold will be the bare minimum of your achievement." The brute kicked my prone body with the top of his foot. "Well, don't just lie there. Let's get to work."

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