Chapter 12
The Core is not merely energy—it is the will of nature, shaped and molded into strength.
Those who fail to balance its flow lose control of themselves, torn apart between consciousness and the very power they once sought to command.
Yet those who succeed in harmonizing it become heroes, their names engraved into the history of their world.
Perhaps even surpassing the boundaries of logic and reality.
The rain still hadn't stopped.
The sky seemed to bow, and the line between the world inside and outside the game grew ever more blurred.
Within a system that appeared to follow some unwritten ancient law, the Inti Lu served as the axis of all forms of life and power within that world.
From it was born the order that divided individuals into five tiers—a hierarchy that not only measured ability but also determined one's fate and worth.
The fifth tier—the lowest strata, known as Sesth—was home to the Human Change who possessed no talent whatsoever.
There, they struggled desperately just to gain acknowledgment of their existence.
They were the foundation of the pyramid that held the world aloft—working, fighting, and sometimes dying without ever being seen.
Yet it was there that belief was born: even humans without light could still spark a small flame in the dark.
A step higher lay the third tier, the Rumh class.
Here lived the majority—the ordinary Human Change, born from families that knew neither greatness nor the legacy of strength.
They trained, they dreamed, they often failed—but still, they remained the heartbeat of the world.
Rumh represented balance—between dreams and reality, between the courage to grow and the limits that imprisoned them.
Above them—on the first tier—resided the Mirhush, individuals standing at the threshold of miracles.
Their power rivaled the elites, and for many, Mirhush symbolized hope—that humans could still defy a destiny that had never been kind to them.
Then came the Svenush, the second layer that birthed true geniuses.
They did not merely match the elites—they transcended those boundaries, in ways no theory or training could ever explain.
Within their bodies, the Inti Lu flowed like stars pulsing in the void—burning without reason.
Their existence resonated, creating a distance between what was possible and what was not.
And at the summit stood Sosh, the fourth tier—beings far beyond the standard of ordinary humanity.
The Sosh were often called the shadows of Gods and Goddesses, entities no longer bound by mortal constraints.
They were not only powerful—they emanated eternity, as though every step they took rewrote the very laws of existence.
They were the hierarchy that shaped life itself, the system that kept the world spinning between disparity and wonder.
"Inti Lu—the source of all force that keeps the Human Change alive.But most people only see numbers, not stability.What matters isn't how high the value is, but how long it can stand in the middle—without falling to zero or exploding at fifty.If the Parameter remains steady at twenty-five, that's its living limit.Drop below—it dies slowly.Rise too fast—it bursts from within.Simple, yet strangely, no one truly understands."
In the silence filled only by the scratch of pen against paper, Theo stared at his notes—messy lines, meaningless circles, scribbles that looked more like defiance against logic than proper record-keeping.
His hand moved slowly, erasing what was unnecessary, fixing the order, reconnecting fragments of thoughts that had scattered.
Among the dots of dried ink, he tried to rediscover the essence of how one could measure the Inti Lu's strength within a Human Change.
Not just values or numbers—but something far deeper.
"The balance between life and destruction."
In a world bound by the laws of energy, the Parameter was a second heart—the Seed of Force that dictated the rhythm of power, marking the boundary between those who truly lived and those merely pretending to breathe within the whirlpool of energy.
Theo realized that in the world of Flo Viva Mythology, numbers were never the true measure.
True power wasn't determined by how high or low the Parameter was—but by how long that number could endure amidst waves of change.
He imagined someone with a stable Parameter of twenty-five, standing between two abysses.
Zero and fifty.
If the number touched either, balance would collapse, and the user's body would crumble along with their Inti Lu.
Thus, every training, every meditation, every sacrifice revolved around one purpose—
To keep that number dancing in the middle.
Never falling, never rising too high.
That was how this world worked—demanding humans to understand the unseen equilibrium.
Yet the journey to strengthen one's Parameter stability was not merely a matter of technique, but a spiritual ordeal called Sinarakata.
In this ritual, the Human Change had to merge two opposing forces—the lowest and highest values—into one vessel of energy, binding them through movements resembling an ancient dance.
Each dance corresponded to the individual's stability value.
Twenty-five movements for twenty-five stability. A hundred for a hundred, and so forth.
But the further the dance continued, the heavier the weight pressed upon the body and soul of the dancer.
Each step was a battle, each motion a wound that might never heal.
Many failed midway—their bodies shattered, their minds scattered like sand in a storm.
For those who succeeded in completing Sinarakata, not only did their strength grow, but so did their understanding of balance—between chaos and the will to live.
In a world that worshiped strength, Sinarakata stood as the line dividing those who merely wanted power and those who truly understood existence.
"Every class of Human Change ends with an 'H'.Whether it's an abbreviation, a sign, or—"
Thud!
"Damn it, the eraser fell."
"Haaah… what was I going to say again? Ah, I completely forgot.Forget it—focus on the notes.The world of Flo Viva Mythology is far too tangled to be neatly organized through theory."
The air in the room felt heavy, pressing like an invisible weight hanging above his head.
Upon the wooden desk, covered with scribbles and ink stains, lay a worn-out sheet filled with unfinished writing.
There, fragments of theory about Parameters, stability, and Human Change system anomalies sprawled half-complete—as if their author had lost his way within his own thoughts.
Theo gazed at it for a long time, letting his eyes trace the imperfect lines before shifting to the fallen eraser.
The sound of it hitting the floor was faint, barely audible—but enough to break the flow of his thoughts that once surged like a wild river.
In an instant, the complex world in his mind collapsed into an uncanny silence.
Earlier, he had intended to explain why the Parameter must never be too low or too high.
In the logic of Flo Viva Mythology, stability wasn't merely numerical—it was existential.
When the Parameter fell too low, the body lost control over the Inti Lu, leaving the user fragile—a hollow vessel devoid of life's pulse.
But when it grew too high, the power overflowed, consuming its own container, until both body and soul exploded into unbound energy.
To be continued…