My frantic gasps for air slowly subsided, but my heart still hammered like a drum. The experience in the void felt more real than the solid bed beneath me.
So. Not a dream, then.
The thought wasn't mine. It was a calm, resonant rumble that echoed directly in my mind. It was Voltaris.
I scrambled out of bed, my eyes darting around the dark room. "Where are you? How are you doing that?" I whispered aloud, feeling like a madman talking to himself.
A mental sigh, heavy with the weight of eons, filled my head. "Relax, boy. I am where I have always been: inside you. This 'gift' of yours is my prison, and you are the warden. We can communicate like this. It's far more efficient than shouting."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. A god. A literal god was my roommate, and my head was the apartment. "Okay. So... what now? What's this 'work' you mentioned?"
"Patience," Voltaris chided gently. "First, you need to understand the nature of our arrangement. The seal that binds me is powered by ambient mana, but it can be weakened by a direct application of a host's willpower and life force. That's you. The more you exert your will on the seal, the more it cracks. The more it cracks, the more of my power leaks out for you to use."
"So I just have to... think really hard?" I asked, skeptical.
"In a pathetically simplistic sense, yes," the god retorted dryly. "But raw willpower isn't enough. You need to focus it. Channel it. Your rage, your desire for revenge... that is the key. It's a potent fuel. Every time you feel that fire, I want you to direct it inward, at me. At the cage. Strike at my chains, boy, and I will reward you."
The memory of Iris's cold eyes and the crowd's mocking laughter flashed in my mind. The familiar, bitter heat rose in my chest. This time, instead of letting it consume me, I followed Voltaris's instruction. I visualized the anger as a physical force and pushed it inward, toward the core of my being where I could now sense his presence.
I felt a faint crack deep within my soul. It wasn't a sound, but a sensation, like a hairline fracture appearing on a sheet of glass.
And then, I felt it. A trickle of energy, cool and electric, flowed from that crack into my body. It was minuscule, a mere drop in an ocean, but it was infinitely more powerful than anything I had ever felt before. It surged through my veins, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
"There," Voltaris's voice held a sliver of approval. "You see? That is a taste of true power. Not the static shock you were born with. Now, hold out your hand. Summon your 'spark'."
I did as he commanded, lifting my right hand. I focused, but this time, I drew upon that new, borrowed energy.
It was no longer a pathetic spark.
A vibrant, violet arc of lightning, thick as my thumb, erupted from my palm. It wasn't wild; it was controlled. It coiled around my fingers like a living serpent, crackling with contained power and casting the entire room in a brilliant, pulsating purple glow. It hummed with an energy that made the very air tremble.
I stared, mesmerized. This was more power than I had ever dreamed of possessing. This was real.
"This is only the beginning, boy," Voltaris's voice echoed in my mind, a promise of the storms to come. "This is how you stop being a Zero."