Translucent, cloudy liquid swirled gently within a crystalline vessel, echoing the silent dance of secrets within secrets. These vessels, called Curir, served as wallets—vital lifelines within the unruly flow of the production city's rhythm. Curir were coveted in this city; they were the only shield against the dangers of transporting Notium—a resource as rare as it was volatile—in quantities that whispered of promise and peril.
This resource was the primary energy source for all colonies spread across the spacium realm and, at the same time, the energy on which the Authority holder functions. In the early stages, this resource was mainly used to grow, but it loses that property as the Authority holder advances, taking a different place in their heart.
Sadly, however, nothing good comes without an equivalent exchange, and one thing was certain in this bizarre world: nothing is truly perfect.
Yet Notium's beauty was deceiving. This elusive substance was branded by volatility and acid, threatening to consume any flesh it touched and ignite into wild bursts if provoked by flame. Its perilous nature hung unspoken in every Curir.
A shiver, cold and crawling, climbed Nox's spine at the knowledge that this volatile lifeblood now coursed within him. Greed, bright as a dagger's edge, nevertheless flickered in his gaze—fascination entwined with risk.
Unlike paper money, Notium had inherent value, and Nox had three whole drops. The highest amount he ever came into contact with was two, and that was when his mother passed away, receiving her inheritance in the process.
This was not a large sum, given that his father was an Authority Wealder, but most of his assets were confiscated after his father's death, leaving us with very little.
Twerling the Curir in his hand, weaving it through his thingers, not considering its dangerous properties, Nox thought of the gigantic web inside of his soulsea. It seemed fairly complete and required no strengthening. At least not through external sources.
And using it to buy my own stuff would be a very productive way to use it! Much more productive than using it on his development!
After justifying himself, Nox planned to set these drops aside and maybe use one later to understand the process of absorbing and growing one's fragment, simply to experience it.
Putting down the Curir, Nox sat on the floor, planning to enter his soulsea.
As he tugged on the strings floating before his mind's eye, Nox felt himself fall back once more. Opening his eyes, he was no longer in his room but standing on the surface of a silent, still lake. This was his soulsea, the representation of his soul, and above was a golden web forming a gondola above the sea, illuminating the dark and silent surface of his soul.
Unlike on his last visit, Nox came this time with a clear goal. This goal was to start the process of soul assimilation.
Right now, Nox was in the first stage, or, as others might refer to it, the first Rank.
The progression route of the holder stadium would have been to slowly accumulate and help the fragment grow. This could be sped up by feeding more Notium into the fragment, which is also the students' main task during their stay.
Nox did not need this; he was out of this prepubescent stage of not truly being an Authority Wealder, and at the same time, having a fragment inside him.
His fragment was of critical mass from the get-go, instantly throwing him into the first rank, called the Assimilator stage. Giving him many options.
What did this include? Well, as the name says, you get assimilated by the fragment, and in return, you assimilate it.
This process is far longer and more complicated. Slowly assimilating one part of oneself at a time.
The usual starting point would be the Soulsea, where he was now. First assimilating the soul, then the mind, the body after that, and at the end the fate of the Individual.
Each path for an Assimilator could have slight differences, as the concepts can affect assimilation, either speeding it up, slowing it down, or starting it at a different step.
Thinking about it, Nox couldn't help but second-guess whether doing this was truly the right way to go.
If one rationally thought about the process, one was giving up one's own humanity, step by step, in favor of the Authority. On the other hand, there were steps to take to preserve it, which was one of the primary difficulties of Authority Wealders. Treading the line between Human and Concept, searching for strength while preserving oneself.
Nox exhaled, a soft resignation floating away with his doubts. He was no fool to chase hope in the darkness; lessons etched by others who braved the path before him anchored his resolve. He cast his gaze to the web's luminous heart, noticing a subtle descent and gathering density—perhaps, he mused, progress, barely perceptible yet achingly real.
If it were to continue this way, it would take years to reach the surface of the lake and fully integrate into the soul, which was where Nox's role came into play. Over the years, through trial and error, many ways have been discovered to move forward and quicken processes that would otherwise take a long time.
This had many reasons, with the primary propellers being age and the attraction force; as if going by the natural speed, the individual would succumb to one of the two sooner or later.
Now, Nox only needed to step into the footsteps of his predecessors, without taking unnecessary risks.
The most effective way to accelerate the soul's assimilation was through rituals and understanding. Sadly, Nox was little more than a novice in the field of rituals, and understanding his source element, fate, would inevitably be arduous and time-consuming.
He did intend to do both, of course, having already started his studies of ritual languages and fate itself, but this was not the reason he had entered his soulsea today.
Lifting his right arm, five threads started flowing out of his fingers, every finger letting out one. Not resisting gravity, imposed in this space by his own subcocious mind, they flowed downward toward the surface of the soulsea. Breaking the surface, causing five small ripples where the threads made contact; what was strange, however, was that the ripples were far larger than such small threads should have been able to create. These white threads slowly took on a golden glint, not entirely turning golden, but simply radiating a similar radiance to the strings above.
Slowly growing as they traveled, fusing together, creating a wave that disturbed the tranquil embrace of the soulsea. Expanding in size, the wave that was now five, then eight, then ten meters tall, expanding towards all directions, closing in on the edge of his soul.
"Boom"
The wave flowed over the edge, covering the pillar-like existence called the soul entirely.
A tidal wave of sensation surged in Nox—no longer did he merely sense his form, nor the faint impression of his surroundings. Now, the vast, wild terrain of his soul pulsed with life beneath his awareness, as if he'd bled into its essence, and it into him—the boundary between self and soulsea utterly lost.
Liflessly standing there, his body fell to his knees, and then his face made contact with the surface of the water.
"splat"