Chapter 94
STRANGE CHANGE(2)
IAM had woke up with a heaviness in his head—not pain, not quite. It was more like an invisible pressure, coiling and stretching. At first, he thought it was just exhaustion, or maybe something lingering from the trauma of death itself. But as he lay still and focused, allowing the silence to flood in, he realised it wasn't normal at all.
No… it was his core.
There was a strange fullness in it, a sensation he couldn't quite describe in words. It wasn't mana—at least not just mana. It was understanding. A deep, incomprehensible insight had embedded itself into him, pressed into his very soul. The knowledge of a path—blessed and cursed speech—had appeared in his mind without warning, like a memory that had always been there, waiting to be discovered.
And IAM could feel it.
Not just know it—but feel it.
There was an intuition bubbling within him now. A whisper that if he could just finalise a concept, truly grasp it, hold it down and define it clearly—he would break past his current boundaries. He'd cross the invisible wall between being a novice and an experienced level ascender.
He sat there, unmoving, letting the knowledge root itself deeper. It wasn't forced. It wasn't stolen. It felt like it belonged to him.
IAM had learned how ascenders actually progressed from path classes at the hold, he recalls what he had learnt.
The core in an ascender's brain didn't just hold mana—it held understanding. Each person's chosen paths, their insights, everything they'd come to know and internalise about their abilities, were stored there. The moment mana flowed through it, it became tainted by that understanding and changes it. That tainted mana became the essence that shaped reality—allowing ascenders to manifest their concepts into the physical world.
This was how ascenders understanding gives them the power to affect the world around them.
But every core had its limits.
There was only so much understanding a novice-level core could handle. Each new drop of insight piled onto the last, swelling the core like an overfilled container. And when that limit was finally breached—when the last piece of understanding tipped the scale—the core would explode. And the avien would temporarily break.
Normally, this meant death. A final, unrecoverable end.
But not always.
If the understanding within that explosion was strong enough, or unique enough, it wouldn't scatter and disappear. Instead, it would pull the shattered pieces of the core back together, twisting and reforming them into something greater. A new core. A higher vessel. This new core would be bigger and able to handle more mana and more understanding. And the avien would be restored, stronger and far more efficient.
It was evolution by understanding. Growth by collapse.
IAM let the new understanding settle. He felt the layers of it, the complexity. He knew how long it could take to ascend. Months. Years. A lifetime. And with each level, it only got harder, the demands stricter, the concepts deeper.
Within each level existed tiers:
Low tier: 0 to 25%
Mid tier: 26% to 50%
High tier: 51% to 98%
Peak tier: 99%—that fragile edge where your core threatened to burst, and everything hung in the balance.
Only at 100% would the true explosion occur. Only then would one ascend to the next level, if they survived it.
And right now—somehow—IAM had reached peak tier novice.
He could feel it. As sure as breath. His understanding had carried him to the edge of transformation.
That was what disturbed him most.
Before his death, he hadn't been anywhere near this level. He hadn't even been approaching it. Something had changed. This was more than just progress. This was a transformation that had occurred during his return from the dead.
It was undeniably connected to his resurrection.
But the why eluded him.
Was it an additional benefit—an unexpected reward from whatever force had revived him? Did it suggest that his revival wasn't just accidental, but intentional? Maybe some external power had a use for him… and this knowledge, this understanding, had been seeded into him as preparation. That... maybe he was brought to this planet on purpose.
Or…
Was it something else? Something within him?
IAM couldn't tell.
But he was certain of one thing—if he died again now, there would be no return. That much was certain.
And thinking of death—remembering it—sent a sharp, sick shiver down his spine.
He could recall the moment. That final breath. That collapsing silence. The nothing that swallowed him whole.
And the feeling of it—the feeling of dying—was so far beyond words that language itself seemed laughably small in comparison.
You'd have to experience it to understand.
Whatever had brought him back… whatever strange mechanism or mysterious force had tugged him from the jaws of the end… it was powerful enough to pull him from that. From true death. It wasn't something he could ignore.
IAM's thoughts wandered to the question of why he would even be needed. What made him important? What made him necessary?
IAM couldn't think of many reasons. He certainly didn't think he was special enough to be chosen for something grand.
Apart from his "wonderful personality", he really couldn't figure it out.
Still… something out there had decided he was worth keeping alive.
And that was always a good sign.
And in his current state, anything that needed him alive was better than something that needed him dead.
He tried to shake off the heaviness in his chest and moved forward, his thoughts still tangled.
Distracted, he bumped into someone in the hallway, offering a quick, mumbled apology. As the person walked off, IAM turned his head instinctively, glancing in the direction they had come from.
A glowing billboard screen caught his eye.
Bold white letters flashed across it, reading:
HOPE is MINE.
The words hovered over a slick animation of sliding outfits—jackets, streetwear, shoes that shimmered as they rotated.
IAM stared at it for a moment, confused.
Then he remembered—this was the clothing brand that had approached him not long ago. MINE.He hadn't thought much of them at the time. But seeing this now, right in front of him in a commercial space, made him pause.
They might have actually been more popular than he'd realised.
He tilted his head. The slogan sounded strange. There was something twisted about it. Possessive. Even a little ominous. But… it was memorable.
He let his eyes drift to the shop next to it. Its sign was sleek, almost unassuming: Lux Jewellery.
Very boogie.
Through the massive glass windows, he could see inside. The entire store gleamed with gold and soft ambient lighting. Well-dressed customers stood at velvet-lined counters, trying on bracelets, necklaces, and earrings. In the back corner, a small setup for piercings glinted with metallic tools and silver studs.
IAM almost turned away, uninterested, until something clicked in his memory.
Bryan.
He wore metal studs in both ears. IAM remembered him mentioning it—said he got them done recently because he was going for a new look. It hadn't meant much at the time.
But now… the memory lingered longer than expected.
IAM stared at the sign above the door for several seconds, his eyes unfocused, as old images flickered through his mind.
He blinked slowly.
Then, without thinking further, he stepped forward.
He pushed the door open.
And walked in.