His gravity domain seed.
He could feel it, a dense knot of comprehension buried somewhere behind his sternum. But since forming it in the vacuum of space, he hadn't nurtured it. The tournament had demanded combat applications, not foundational work. Now he had time.
He closed his eyes and extended his awareness inward.
The seed pulsed weakly. Thirty meters at twelve percent efficiency. A pathetic foundation compared to what it could become. Domains were supposed to be expressions of law — a cultivator's understanding of reality made manifest. His gravity manipulation was Expert III, nearly Master. But expertise in a tool wasn't the same as comprehending the truth behind it.
He needed to understand what gravity was. Not how to manipulate it. What it meant.
