The wall did not weaken.
It clarified.
Three weeks of structured breathing had strengthened his body. A fourth sharpened his perception.
Duke no longer needed to rely on vague sensation.
He could now isolate the responding point within himself precisely.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, spine aligned as the manual instructed. The house was quiet. The fire reduced to embers. Outside, the village had surrendered to night.
He inhaled slowly.
Guided the sensation downward.
Compressed gently.
The response came almost immediately.
A pulse — distinct, centered low in his abdomen.
Violet.
He did not see it with his eyes, but he perceived it clearly now — a dense knot of warmth, compact and steady.
He exhaled carefully and inhaled again.
The violet core answered more strongly this time.
He adjusted his focus slightly upward.
And that was when he felt it again.
The second presence.
Colder.
Still.
Higher within his torso.
Blue.
He did not attempt to stimulate it.
He simply observed.
Two centers.
Two distinct densities.
The manual had described only one.
"A practitioner's aura will gather around the lower dantian," the text had stated. "It will condense there before circulation begins."
There had been no mention of duplication.
He inhaled again.
Guided energy toward the violet core.
It absorbed readily.
Warmth spread faintly through his limbs.
He shifted focus toward the blue.
Nothing.
No pulse.
No response.
No rejection either.
It simply existed.
Dormant.
He exhaled slowly.
If this were a physical system, two absorption centers drawing from the same external supply could create interference. One could dominate. The other could remain inactive until conditions changed.
But this was not a chemical reactor.
This was his body.
He inhaled again and compressed.
The violet core flared sharply — almost impatient.
He steadied his breathing and observed the difference in texture between the two.
The violet center felt dense.
Compact.
Rooted.
The blue felt… foreign.
Not weaker.
Just separate.
A realization formed gradually.
The violet core likely belonged to Duke.
The original Duke.
The boy whose body he now occupied.
Aura affinity tied to this world. To this body.
The blue—
He inhaled once more, testing the thought carefully.
The blue core did not respond to local aura at all.
It neither absorbed nor rejected.
It simply remained.
Charles.
The name felt distant now, like a faded echo from another life.
But the mind that analyzed molecular chains and supply networks still existed behind his eyes.
If consciousness had merged—
If memory had merged—
Then perhaps structure had as well.
Two souls.
Two cores.
One body.
He exhaled slowly.
He did not believe in coincidence.
The violet core belonged to Duke's original structure.
The blue might belong to his former self.
If so—
Then its dormancy made sense.
The aura in this world resonated with the body native to it.
Not the consciousness imported from another reality.
He inhaled again, focusing entirely on the violet.
Warmth gathered more strongly than ever before.
It spread into his arms and chest, pressing outward faintly against muscle and bone.
He attempted once more to establish circulation.
Guide downward.
Compress.
Redirect upward along the spine.
For half a second—
The warmth held.
Then it collapsed.
Scattered.
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
Still no loop.
Still below threshold.
He opened his eyes.
The ceiling above him seemed lower tonight.
He stood slowly and flexed his hands.
His body was undeniably stronger than before.
When he lifted heavy pots during the day, strain came later. When he walked through the market, his steps were firmer. Even the way people looked at him had shifted subtly.
Less fragile.
But not yet warrior.
He returned to sitting position and reopened the manual.
Most who fail to establish circulation lack sufficient affinity.
He closed it again.
That was incomplete.
He had affinity.
The violet core proved it.
But something was disrupting stabilization.
Two centers.
One active.
One dormant.
If aura entered one system but detected instability due to structural division—
It might refuse to stabilize.
He inhaled again.
The violet flared sharply.
The blue remained silent.
He did not resent it.
He did not blame it.
He simply accepted it as fact.
He was not built like others.
The manual was written for singular structure.
He possessed dual.
He leaned back against the wall and allowed his breathing to return to normal.
Outside, wind moved softly across the village rooftops.
Inside, Duke evaluated calmly.
Possibilities:
The blue core would never activate.
It required different stimulus.
It required different energy source.
The third possibility lingered longer than the others.
If violet responded to this world's aura—
What would blue respond to?
He did not yet have the answer.
But he felt certain of one thing.
The stagnation was not lack of effort.
It was incompatibility.
Which meant—
The solution was not more repetition.
It was altered input.
He stood slowly and walked to the window.
The road beyond the village stretched faintly under moonlight.
Reese River Town awaited.
Larger markets.
Stronger warriors.
Greater exposure.
If this body had been built with two cores—
Then perhaps the world held something meant to awaken the second.
For now, he would continue strengthening the first.
The violet pulse answered faintly once more.
The blue remained silent.
But silence did not mean absence.
It meant waiting.
And Duke had never been impatient with systems that required the right catalyst.