The librarian told me to "begin daily mental centering exercises."
Which basically means:
> Sit. Breathe. Do not accidentally collapse the universe.
Easy.
Simple.
I failed immediately.
---
Morning — Attempt 1
Lune sat cross-legged beside me in the training courtyard, looking like a peaceful monk.
I sat across from her, trying to copy her posture.
Wind: soft
Sun: warm
Bird: chirping
Me: sweating like I was about to defuse a bomb
"Close your eyes," Lune instructed.
I closed them.
"Clear your mind."
Okay.
Sure.
I tried.
My brain:
What is breathing?
Why do lungs feel weird?
What if gravity stops?
What is my name actually?
Do ants have thoughts?
Who would win in a fight: ten ducks or one bear?
Lune: "Your mind should be empty."
Me: "It is empty."
Lune: "Not like that."
Tessa sat on a rock, kicking her feet, eating something crunchy.
I opened one eye.
"…are those fried mana crystals?"
She grinned. "The alchemist said they 'probably' wouldn't mutate me."
I stared.
She stared.
We kept staring.
Lune sighed so aggressively the wind changed direction.
---
Then the God Spoke
Just a whisper.
Not dramatic.
Not thunderous.
Just… present.
> "You struggle with silence because you were born in noise."
I twitched.
My heartbeat rattled my ribs.
Lune leaned closer, whispering just as softly:
"Stay here. Don't follow the voice. Focus on me."
This would've been easier if she didn't have the world's gentlest voice.
And also unfairly pretty eyes.
Like, excuse me, I am trying not to ascend or explode here and you're being aesthetically distracting.
I exhaled shakily.
The whisper faded.
Tessa wrote:
Rei: Vulnerable to affection attacks. Weak spot identified.
I threw a pebble at her.
She caught it without looking.
Because of course she did.
---
Afternoon — Attempt 2 (With Equipment)
Tessa decided meditation needed "science."
Which is terrible news.
She dragged out her latest invention: The Arcane Focus Stabilizer Mk. 0.6 (Absolutely Not Tested).
It looked like:
a helmet
attached to wires
attached to a bucket
attached to a crank machine
and for some reason one rubber duck
Me: "Why is there a duck."
Tessa: "If the duck quacks, it means the device is working."
Me: "How do I—"
The duck quacked.
Everything went white.
---
Inner Space, Again
But this time the space was clearer.
Sharper.
Less void, more… cathedral of stars.
He was there.
Sitting on the same throne of pieces that didn't belong together.
Only now, his silhouette looked more defined.
Less static.
More… person-shaped.
He tilted his head.
> "You came willingly this time."
"I didn't— Tessa put a duck on my head."
Silence.
Then:
> "…I do not know what that means."
"Same."
We stood a while, cosmic awkwardness filling the galaxy.
Then he said:
> "You are learning to separate your self from mine. Good."
I breathed in.
The stars breathed out.
"But," he continued,
> "You have yet to accept the reason I chose you."
"I didn't want to die," I said slowly.
"Yes," he answered.
"But you also feared living unnoticed."
I froze.
He didn't say it accusingly.
He said it like a simple truth.
> "You desired meaning. I answered. That is all."
"…So you're not controlling me?"
> "If I wanted a puppet, I would not choose someone who thinks like you."
"…is that an insult?"
> "…Yes."
---
Back to Reality
I woke up on the ground.
Helmet smoking.
Duck melted.
Lune kneeling next to me with the exact expression of someone who just witnessed the stupidest event in the history of stupidity.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
I nodded, dazed.
"I saw him again. He talked about… why he's here."
"And?"
"He said… I wanted to matter."
Lune didn't say anything for a moment.
Then she placed her hand on my shoulder.
Not dramatic.
Not holy.
Just human.
"…Everyone does," she murmured.
Which for some reason made my chest hurt in the most uncomfortable "I am feeling emotions and I hate it" way.
Tessa climbed over me holding a notebook and 7 different wrenches.
"We're trying again tomorrow."
Lune and I screamed:
"No."
She pouted.
"But I didn't even replace the duck yet"