I step forward.

The ground is no longer a foundation—just a boundary.

My blades slice through the air as I twist, but the force behind them feels wrong. Too light. Too weightless.

My muscle memory fights me, every movement just a little off. My mind screams something is wrong. And of course it is…

I glance up—or rather, down. The bed, the table, the barrels, all hanging above me like an illusion. Except it's not. My feet are planted firmly against the ceiling of the white room.

I exhale sharply. The strain isn't in my arms or legs—it's in my head.

With a flick of my waves, I release my hold and let gravity take over. I flip midair before landing lightly on my feet.

I sigh.

Training upside down. A brilliant idea in theory, the perfect way to separate body and wave control. Ever since reaching the First Body State, I've felt the imbalance—my physical prowess has surged ahead, but my wave output lags behind.

I need to push them.

So I tried something new—using my swords purely through my waves, removing my body's foundation entirely. If the Pillar is a blade, then maybe I need to wield it as one.

However…

It's harder than I thought. It's like all my muscle memory is useless. My body wants to move one way, but my waves don't know how to follow. It's the difference between instinctively swinging a sword and trying to control a puppet from the outside.

I walk over to the water container, grab a cup, and fill it. My helmet retracts, and I down it in one gulp.

Sweat drips down my face.

I glance at the timer. Three hours have passed already.

Progress is slower than I thought.

I channel my waves to the virtual panel and check for new messages but none, just the old ones from Ayu.

I want to focus on the Body Path for a while. Good luck with your training!

I will see you afterwards.

Be ready ;) Love U, Ayu.

I smile. Weird, but warm feeling being able to exchange messages like this after more than month of being together.

I take a deep breath as I pour in another cup of water.

Though I am very sure the 'Be ready' means there will be a spar session coming up.

I'll be at a disadvantage if I can't make any progress myself. But… what can I do, really? I'm way behind her on the path to the Second Body State, and now I'm stuck on the Pillar Path because of this new approach I came up with. Should I just scrap it and see if Darius managed to figure it out? Maybe between the three of us, we already have what we need to progress the 'normal' way.

But… something in me refuses to let go. Not after just a few hours of failure. If I give up now… I know I'll regret it.

I close my eyes and lean my head back, emptying my mind.

Seconds stretch into minutes.

A while later, I open my eyes again.

Let's get back to it.

My helmet slides back into place as I step toward the center of the room.

The upside-down training wasn't working. What else can I try?

Maybe I should break it down. Goals. Steps.

What do I want? To reach the First Pillar State.

How do I get there? We need to create an internal EM wave-based framework that links specific elements of our neural networks—those Chiara coined neural nodes, or just nodes. These nodes form a simplified version of our brain's structure, and they must be connected through specific wave frequencies and amplitudes with the output of the Pillar.

Now, there's an almost infinite number of ways to establish those connections: which frequencies work best, which nodes link together, how to properly sync with the Pillar's emission, and so on. But the key is to find an optimal configuration—a state Chiara called resonance.

Why resonance? Well, since it's a wave-based system, we can model the whole thing as a vibration problem—an eigenfrequency search for the brain-Pillar model.

All of this, aside from the specific terminology, was covered in the knowledge we gained from the orb. And while Chiara's pure scientific method offers a proven path forward, I still believe the system leaves room for… creative interpretation.

So—what's my approach? I treat the shapeless, energy-based Pillar like a sword. The goal is to find the optimal path—my blade path—one that passes through every node with the least possible motion. In this model, frequency comes from the pace of each strike. Amplitude from the range of motion.

And what's failing?

It's too complex. Too many combinations. Too many possible paths. My sword trajectories are off—too stiff. Too deliberate. Even though my wave-body synchronization used to hover near 100%, reaching the First Body State knocked everything out of alignment. The asymmetry between my enhanced physical form and my current wave control dropped that number below 95%.

And that last 5%—hell, even 1%—feels like a goddamn mountain.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

And it's not just about speed. It's not how fast I can swing to cover all the points. It's how I do it.

How fast should I swing here? Should I connect this node with that one, or the one on the other side? Should I go for a thrust, a wide slash, or keep it short? If I speed up here, will I need to slow mid-swing to control the follow-up?

It's like a thousand-piece puzzle, and every piece is the same damn color.

I don't even know where to start. Heck, I don't even know if there's a solution. Treating the Pillar like a sword? Imagining the neural link as a sword path? Through thousands of nodes? Is that even realistic?

Chiara showed us a solid, proven path forward. So… why change it?

But the conversation with Darius kept playing in my mind. The way it all connected. The way I felt… something.

I take a deep breath.

Fuck it.

Seven days. That's the deadline. If I can't crack it by then, I'll drop it and go with Chiara's way—and hope Darius did his part.

With that settled, what can I do? What areas can I still improve?

First, wave-body synchronization. But how long would that take to reach over 99%? At least a week, and that's if I stop advancing on the Body Path—which would be a waste. So, no. That's out.

What else? I could run analytical simulations, map every node, compare potential paths… but then why did I even take this approach if I'm just going to do it the old way? It's pointless. Besides, that's not my style—pure theory with no practice? Nope.

Improve my swordsmanship? Maybe. But progress has been slow. Like hitting a wall. I can't just count on some sudden enlightenment dropping from the sky.

Dammit. I don't see this happening anytime soon. I mean, finding the single best sword path through more than a thousand fucking points? Like—how the hell could…

A single?

Wait. I have two swords. That makes it two paths… or is it still just one?

But one sword can follow one route, the other a different one—and together they could cover everything, right? Still, it feels like too much. I can't multitask to that level. I'd need an actual pattern. Something that makes sense from a dual-wielding perspective.

But that idea... another path.

Why am I locked into thinking there's only one sword path? I mean, sure—the manuals, and Chiara, talk about a resonance state. An optimal alignment that matches your internal node pattern and natural frequency. Just like the Body State had its rhythm, the Pillar has one too.

But nowhere does it say there's only one way. No one ever said it has to be a single, uninterrupted link.

Chiara did it that way—but the manual doesn't make it a rule.

So why not break it down?

Why not cover all the nodes using multiple sword paths? Smaller, tighter sequences that I can optimize individually. Then I just figure out how to connect them. Like… molecules. You link atoms into simple compounds, and those compounds form complex structures. Same concept.

My thoughts start racing. The more I run through it, the more it clicks.

Short sequences. Modular forms. Multiple optimized paths.

I feel my skin tingle—like I've finally unlocked the part of the puzzle that's been grinding in the back of my head.

I grin.

But I can take it even further. A sword path—does it really have to be a fixed set of moves?

Why not a possible set?

Not a line, but a web. Not a sequence, but a map of choices, shifting and reshaping with every breath I take, every twitch of a muscle.

Every tiny adjustment creates a new outcome. A pivot in the heel, a subtle bend in the wrist, a tighter grip. A breath held an instant longer. A glance thrown to the side. A delay that stretches into invitation. A beat skipped that becomes a trap. A different stance. A wider slash. A shift in the elbow during a thrust.

Each one of those is a fork in the road.

A divergence.

A new world born.

That's the butterfly effect, not in theory but in motion—rippling through combat, reframing the flow in the blink of an eye.

And all of those—the actions that happen and the ones that don't, the phantom moves aborted mid-thought, the fake-outs, the reversals, the moments when my body almost acts and my opponent reacts anyway—those are part of it too.

The reality of the blade, and the imagined weight of one that never swung.

The slash that never landed but opened the door.

The strike that was never thrown but won the fight.

That's swordsmanship.

No—fuck that.

That's combat.

All paths. All options. All timelines. Every branch, every feint, every flow—layered and laced together, not in succession, but in parallel.

Not a path I follow. A field I navigate.

A battlefield that unfolds and folds again with every step I take.

Futures collapsing. Possibilities blooming.

And I'm there, in the middle of it all—not walking the path, but shaping it. Choosing the truths I want to make real.

The realization dawns slowly, like mist pulling back from a mountain peak.

But just as everything starts falling into place, I hit a wall. A potential issue. If I want to take this concept beyond just reaching the First Pillar State—if I want it to be viable in actual combat—then there's a problem.

How can I visualize all these paths?

Ayu's body was drenched in sweat, the scent of burnt flesh clinging to the air.

Hours had passed—how many, she wasn't sure—until she finally opened her eyes.

Her limbs felt weak, her breathing slow and heavy. It was time to stop.

She exhaled, staring up at the blank white ceiling, willing her thoughts to settle as the currents running through her body slowly faded.

The path to the Second Body State was harsh. Nothing like the first. She had been pushing herself for nearly a week, yet something still felt off. No matter how hard she tried to attune to that natural flow of her body, she couldn't slip into the state she had once achieved with the first.

But it was no surprise. She had known from the start how absurdly difficult this step would be. While the First Body State had relied on synchronizing pulses with the body's natural rhythm, the second required an entirely new layer on top of that foundation. It wasn't just about finding the pattern—it was about merging those active charge nodes, generating stronger, more focused shocks. And it wasn't uniform, either. Some parts of the body required a singular pulse, others a fusion of two, and some even three. No longer a simple two-dimensional rhythm, this was a three-dimensional structure where each point had depth. A pattern layered over another.

Ayu sighed. Thinking wasn't going to get her anywhere. Overcomplicating things would only hold her back.

So, she did what she always did—trusted her instincts. Trial and error, again and again, letting her body learn on its own where the pulses should flow, where they shouldn't. Letting it find the balance, the path to that elusive sweet spot.

Yet the process was exhausting. She had pushed through countless runs, endured endless cycles of pain and failure, but she still hadn't reached it.

Still… she was getting closer.

Her body was adapting, her instincts refining the process, cutting away hesitation. The progress was slow, but it was there.

So all she needed was time. Time and the endurance to withstand the pain, to push past the distractions, to empty her mind and let her body take over.

This was her path.

Born of instincts, sharpened through struggle.

Ayu had never been the smartest in the room—not even close. But she knew where her strength lay. She knew the road she had to take, the one that fit her best.

And, more than anything—even through the pain, through the exhaustion—she knew… this was the path she loved.

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