Chương 37: Chapter 35: Looking Back

His flow state was quickly disrupted by the notification and its implications. He'd tried, hard, to raise the level of any of his stats by an entire point, and failed for the longest time. He could only attribute his newfound success to the floor, as it was the only thing majorly different.

'Seems my theory about more magical stuff being starved at upper layers was true. The deeper I go, the more powerful I am able to get.' With Sensitivity's ability to "See" currently hamstrung into blindness, though, he wasn't in a position to check what the difference in the air was.

Thinking about David, the tier 1 Imprint user, Aaron knew that he drew on something else in the Underworld to power it, but he never pinpointed what exactly that was, which would make it hard to see whether there would be more of it in the air no; just from density of everything else when it came to his Sensitivity, he guessed yes.

His running theory was something of an "energy concentration," where there was some ambient energy that people could draw on and would slowly sink into you if you had a vacuum, but if you had too much, then it would be pulled out. So then, with skepticism and excitement in equal measure, he dove inwards again to scan what was doubtless to be a stark difference, considering 1. 8 was such a powerful benchmark.

And yet, as he pulled on that part of his mind, looking for Onward Evermore, he found it to be somewhat lackluster. Oh, it was stronger- a lot stronger, definitely more than twice as strong as 1 had been, but it wasn't equal to 1. 8 at all. And, considering he had 1. 11 before rather than the generic 1, now into 2. 11, he'd say it was actually a bit less than double the heightened Sensitivity. He could only sigh. He still did not understand the numeric decisions of his Status.

But he didn't need to in order to look at his Primary so, with metaphorical eyes wide open, he dove back into the imagery Onward Evermore presented when Sensitivity landed on it. While he couldn't exactly see it, his Sensitivity did interpret Onward Evermore's state into the emotions it invoked, making Aaron feel guilt and reluctant acceptance.

He got the sense that it wasn't in a position to do anything, and it would be of no assistance any time soon- worse, it was very clearly much worse off than Mycelaric Expanse, meaning that if he got energy, it would still be better spent going to Mycelaric and thus securing a stable generator. Despite that, though, he also felt a mix of relief in the emotions, because it was visibly healing, and how his Primary was producing its own energy- though consuming it at the same rate said energy was made.

In other words, unlike Mycelaric Expanse, his Primary was gradually repairing itself. All he'd need to do was wait some indeterminate time, and it would be better; so, at the very least, he didn't have to rush. But that didn't mean he had to be idle, either. He hadn't come here only to look at Onward Evermore, after all. His eyes opened again, and he carefully rummaged about the nearby belongings, notably avoiding his sword's edge to look at his metal case.

Leaning back and sliding down against the petal, he tried doing what Commander Paxton had mentioned before: emotional control to produce energy. Every other time he did so, it was throwing himself at a problem over and over again that he knew he should not be able to make progress on, but did anyway- such as overpowering his Primary or…

well, that was the only example he had for now but his theory still held true; With nothing to actively do, he'd have to figure out another, more stable way to go about it, and already theorized about a possible alternative. When he first decided to keep the case he felt an extreme burst of energy compared to what he normally was capable of, so it was still possible, even with his broken Primary. Now, he just had to do that again; to achieve that, he simply let himself reminisce on it.

Running his fingers over its damaged surface, dim light painting it yellow, he invoked memories of his family, his grief, and the desire to not only move forward, but do so standing tall, proud of what he'd become. Slowly, he entered the right state of mind, a combination of melancholic, accepting, hollowed, ambitious, and determined.

When a flicker of energy appeared within him, he didn't do something stupid like stop to admire it in a waste of time, but locked onto that particular emotion, keeping himself there, in his memories. An hour went by, then two, and his energy production soon peaked; maintaining that plateau, he went for another hour before it rapidly tapered off, becoming exponentially harder for two reasons. He was bored, and getting thirsty.

Those invasive emotions that could not be ignored quickly upset the balance, making it close to impossible to reach the right state of mind. Eventually, he sighed- whether in relief that he could be done or exasperation at being interrupted, he didn't know- and gently plucked his sword from where he'd tucked it, exiting the flower and stretching his sore legs as he assessed the stockpile of power he now had.

While not as immense as it would've been if his Primary put the same amount of effort for the same amount of time, it was sizable, and relatively stable, unlike how the energy normally was. Perhaps because his body inherently rejected something foreign to it, but Onward Evermore's energy always came in waves, specifically when he needed it and nothing more. With this, though, he felt it resting there like a sleeping dog, waiting for his command.

He fed a trickle of it to Mycelaric Expanse, getting a positive response in return, and slowly increased the amount provided until he felt Mycelaric was no longer able to digest it as fast as he could provide- quickly cutting back into a more comfortable amount. Now that he knew abilities could be overwhelmed, he'd have to be careful to ensure his weren't. In their normal states, they were certainly a lot more durable, but with the fragility he felt from them now, it was better safe than sorry.

Looking around at the pillerous stalks holding up the dandelion mass, he sought out the best place to take and eat from. He didn't want to cut down some of the pillars for fear of causing the entire thing to topple, but that would be difficult considering he saw somewhere close to a hundred of the things, maybe more- and that was only those serving as pillars for the entire structure, not even accounting for the many that were doubtlessly at the top.

He found a solid candidate to eat from when he looked back at the flower he first plucked his clothing from, and decided there would be a good place to start. Walking along the field of shattered mirrors, he made sure to give those still standing as wide a berth as he could, while also trying to avoid the shards along the ground.

Between stalks, where the dandelion flowers hadn't pushed the glass away, directly, it there were piles of the stuff"I should make shoe wraps at the very least," he mumbled to himself as he felt another crunch of a missed shard beneath him, luckily not piercing his foot. At some point, he was forced to walk between two mirrors that were a bit closer to each other than he would've liked, putting him about five feet away from them both.

Luckily, nothing jumped out at him, but as he passed and glanced into his reflection, he got a good look at his own face and paused. This particular mirror was one that did show his reflection, but instead of sitting in a lightly shaded area, at the edge of a shadow for the green behemoth above, he found himself looking on in a wide-open field, an endless ocean of shin-high swaying grass.

His reflection standing close to the threshold, he got a clear view of the little yellow dots surrounding him on the other side, a few dandelions poked through the grass, though notably, they were nowhere else. Most striking, though was Aaron himself. It'd been a year, maybe more, since he really looked at his own reflection, and the contrast to what he remembered about himself was staggering. Brown hair and eyes, they were somewhat forgettable on his mundane face.

The most unique trait about him was the pattern of freckles, many appearing on a little belt all along his face that started from one cheek, ran along his nose, and ended on the other; it was a trait he'd inherited from his mom, though he missed out on her ginger hair and blue eyes. She always said she thought the freckles looked better on him with his father's eyes to match, the memory making him smile. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Structurally, his face resembled his father closely, with a soft yet visible jawline and thinner cheeks; not exceptional looking, made slightly more disheveled by the burgeoning beard growing in. It was patchy and scraggly though, a trait he also got from his dad, so he'd have to cut it off when he got something less powerful than an infinitely sharp sword. But, most of all, he liked how healthy he looked.

Color in his cheeks and a bit of fullness to his face were the most obvious, but there was a new spark in his eyes. A new awareness. Wide open as he stared at himself, he realized that they weren't partially half-lidded as he used to keep them, sagging a bit- he even saw a little smirk playing at his lips that he didn't realize was there until pointed out to him, as if he'd just remembered a good joke and was trying not to laugh. He looked… Happy.

Not content, but a bit adventurous and lively, helped along by the bright yellow clothes- all of which looked completely ridiculous on him, but in a funny way. A man walking down the street, looking to make people laugh. His smile twitched downwards slightly when he realized how smooth the wraps were on his reflection. He remembered the knots sticking out as he tied them, giving the clothing a somewhat bumpy look. Had they gradually been squashed down? But, when he glanced at his chest, he saw them still there.

Looking back up, the smile very slowly slipped off his face as he realized that his reflection was not perfect, that his clothes were different. And, finally, finally, he realized that if this were truly his reflection, he wouldn't be standing so close to the edge of the mirror. He'd be standing five feet back. Like he currently was in the real world. The light expression on his face turned flat as he stared at his fake self, at whatever this thing was, and remembered there was a mirror behind him as well.

Throwing a glance back, he saw that one was completely empty. When his eyes faced forward again… Nothing really changed with the other self. He wasn't sure if it was better or worse that it was still mimicking him, that it hadn't tried to jump out and grab him or change its behavior in any way. But still, unnerved, he slowly moved away from the mirror, seeing his expression wane further into a light frown. And knew, that this was not reflected on his face.

Keeping himself neutral, it was only the reflection that frowned. Mildly unnerved, there were no further complications as he made it to the flower, looking out at the distant glass. He wasn't sure if the air pressure or earthquake caused by his falling dandelion ball had broken many of the mirrors in the immediate vicinity, but he was grateful for it. He spent a moment collecting himself next to the edge of the flower, looking up at the sky, blue and true.

He saw no sun, but half of it was blotted out by the green mass anyway, maybe more considering those dandelions sticking out of the sides. Almost instantly, he was hit with a longing to be up there, at the top of that dandelion, looking out; a spark of energy accompanied the emotion, breaking him out of his funk. There were monsters on Floor 1, that much was true; not like the monsters on 0 that were truly just animals from other planets, but monsters, things created down here, not born.

Those that were not alive, and had no soul- if such a thing existed, which he was inclined to believe considering Gods were real as well. That didn't mean he'd stop, it meant he had to go harder. Eyes panning around, he saw how many of the mirrors with a reflection in them stood close to the edge. Waiting. Ready.

He also remembered the other sapients hiding behind them, close; whether there was a trick to ensure that the reflection wouldn't grab you, or the reflections weren't truly dangerous unless you pressed into them with Sensitivity like he did with the ground of floor 1, he didn't know, but there was no chance he would risk it getting closer.

'They won't get me,' he told himself,'And if they try, I will cut them down. I faced a Mushki and lived, I have more to fear than some glass.' Instead, he brought his attention to the flower, the dandelion and stalk he intended to try eating, considering it was already damaged from… His head tilted in confusion as he realized the flower, previously halfway bald from his scavenging for the wraps, was fully repaired again.

'Oh, I'm so stupid, I didn't even stick around to see if it would heal; my PRIMARY heals my body strongly when it's in control, of course the titanic mass would heal itself too…' He'd walked through the field of shattered mirrors for no reason, and risked himself for nothing. He could, and should just stay right here and sustain himself off this flower, especially since it was the closest one to the place where he'd seen the sapients.

Seeing them as the most accessible part, he went for the petals first, trimming off a bite-size portion of it with his sword, catching it, and popping it in his mouth. (Author's Note: I went outside and ate 3 dandelions for accuracy, tasting all the different parts individually.) Strange to chew with its springy yet soft texture, it was notably not all that juicy, feeling instead like a damp sponge, but with a lot less cohesion to it that broke apart easily. Taste-wise it was…

not all that much; actually quite bland. It might've been his fried tastebuds from all the junkfood he was used to, but nothing really jumped out at him, though faint notes of grass and an earthy undertone told him there was something there; the aftertaste was even a bit sweet though he might've been imagining that. But, it was not very good for juice. Though there was some, it wasn't enough, and he needed water, so instead, he turned his eyes to the stalk. After all, shouldn't most of the water be there?

That's where it went up and down. Going around to the back of the flower, he made sure to take it as far up as possible so as not to weaken the bend in it, where it balanced on the back of the flower. The first sliver he made was hard and inflexible, like the rind of a watermelon, green and waxy, so he cut a bit deeper, not fearing the fragility of the plant considering it was thick around as an old oak.

Past a foot, he actually did hit something softer; wiggling the section free, just below the surface there was a much juicier part below, though not filled with water, but a sappy, white liquid. Taking a whiff, he was hit with a much more pungent, earthy smell, and realized that the hints of flavor he tasted in the petals actually came from this sap.

'Does that mean the sweet aftertaste will be intensified as well?' he wondered, seeing the juicy section he held. Shrugging, he took a big lick from the inner sap. Spitting it out instantly, he dropped the green section and started to gag, an intensely bitter flavor forcing itself on his tongue, making his entire jaw hurt. Thankfully, he managed to avoid vomiting, but he knew immediately that he would not be doing that again.

He sighed, with that part down, he'd have to eat a lot more of the petals to get the proper water, or maybe figure out a way to juice it? He walked over and cut a larger yellow chunk off, ripping bites off and chewing slowly as he considered. While he was more thirsty, he actually could go for a snack right now, so it wasn't hard to make himself chew.

'How do I get more water from the flower? Water, not that sap stuff. Could I eat the rind? It really didn't smell all that bad, so I think it's just the concentration that really gets me.' He slowly worked his way down an entire petal, and as he went, he noticed that it slowly got sweeter. It was as he pulled the last of it off that he finally got his epiphany, seeing a hole in the flower, a glistening liquid falling free and coating the base of the petal.

Licking it, he tasted a mildly sweet liquid, in such levels that he knew he would be able to collect enough to satisfy his thirst.

'Nectar! Nectar, of course! Why didn't I think of the nectar! It's literally sugar water!' He quickly polished off that particular floret, spitting out the last bit when he ran into a pit at the base, likely the immature seed of the dandelion; around the opening left behind, he saw many itty bitty openings, each slowly excreting nectar.

'Thank God.' It might be a little difficult to extract it, but he did have something that could quench his thirst, and it tasted good. * It took half an hour, maybe less, before he was completely satisfied. Not hungry nor thirsty, he'd torn the flower up. Taking so long, he was also able to see the petals grow back in real time, proving that it, too, would regenerate.

'Man I could go for something hearty, but it wasn't too bad if I think of it like a salad and soda.' Stretching, he looked around again and verified that the mirrors hadn't moved, but also that the sapients hadn't come back, leaving him to remain alone. He knew it would take longer than a few hours, perhaps upwards of multiple days, but it still irri-'Has the sky… dimmed a bit?' he thought, face warping into a grimace at the possibility.

He knew that he'd said it would take days, but he thought in like, many days worth of time. Not that there would be literal days! There wasn't even a sun! He was in the Underworld! Why would there be a day cycle? Calming himself down, he tried to say that maybe he was just seeing things. After all, the sky wasn't turning orange at all- but that could also be because the Underworld would make it so it'd transition straight from blue to black. Whether he was being paranoid or not, he leapt into action.

Quickly forming a massive length of petal rope, he tied his glasses case in a dense ball, then tied that around his torso multiple times, even tucking the case into his "Shirt" to be sure it didn't drop. Stabbing his blade into the stem, making sure to keep it horizontal so that the sharpness of its edge didn't make it cut through and slide out, he started to climb. He'd wanted to see the world from that flower above, hadn't he? What better time to do that than right fucking now!

Regrettably, his caution was soon rewarded.