"Ahh! Damnit!"
Gyeong cursed as he fell, rolling across the ground like a lunatic.
As expected, it was hard.
Controlling the five properties of Universal Ki was a fruitless endeavor that brought him nothing but pain, frustration, and meaningless suffering.
Two more years had passed since his training began.
Making it four years in total.
At least, that was what he believed. Relying on C to keep track of time was a definite no-no.
Speaking of the devil…
"Over there?"
Lying on the soft surface, Gideon shifted his head and noticed C moving about. She was crouched low, seemingly drawing something on the floor with her shadowy fingers.
Curious, he pushed himself up and approached, despite the lingering pain.
When he got close enough to see what she was doing, his eyes narrowed at the peculiar circle she had etched into the ground. In appearance, its shape resembled a complex mandala, layered with interlocking rings and jagged sigils that refused to settle into any familiar geometry.
Just what was she doing?
"…"
As if sensing his presence, C lifted her head and glanced in his direction. Despite having no facial features, he could feel the intensity of her gaze.
She spoke a moment later.
[Oh, you're here. How's that coming along?]
Gyeong shrugged and answered casually, "About as you'd expect. Slow, but I can definitely feel some progress."
[Is that so? You have it rough.]
"Forget about me. What are you doing anyway? I didn't think you were interested in drawing."
[I'm not drawing.]
"Huh?"
[Sorry. That came out wrong. Have you heard of magical circles? Wait... what am I saying? Tsk. Of course you wouldn't know anything about that.]
I am so lost.
Noticing his confusion, C stopped muttering. After a brief pause, she cleared her throat.
[Ahem… To put it simply, I'm creating your ticket out of this prison. Once ether is input into this magical circle, it will open a portal that leads into the flow of the River of Destiny. I've already set the coordinates, but I still need some time to cross-check everything. Honestly, this isn't really my area of expertise and it's my first time doing something like this. And since I can't use ether anymore, you'll be the one who has to supply it.]
"Oh," Gyeong replied as a hint of understanding finally settled in.
So that was what his so-called training in the Five Elemental Ki was for.
A heavy silence followed.
Gyeong stared at the circle again, his earlier curiosity giving way to something closer to unease.
"The River of Destiny… that definitely doesn't sound like the kind of place you casually step into."
[It isn't. Everything such as time, causality, probability flows through there. If you lose your footing, you won't simply die. Make sure to keep that in mind.]
"How comforting."
[You asked.]
Gyeong let out a sigh, rolling his shoulders as a dull ache pulsed through his body. "And you're telling me my job is to pour ether into that thing while hoping it doesn't tear me apart."
[Correct.]
He glanced at her. "You don't sound worried."
[I am not the one stepping through.]
"Tch. Figures."
Despite his words, he found himself kneeling beside the circle. Up close, the markings were even more unsettling. Some lines curved in ways his eyes struggled to follow.
"So when?"
C shook her head.
[Not yet. Your control is still unstable. If you input ether now, the portal will collapse or worse, redirect.]
"Worse how?"
She paused.
[There are places even the River does not return from.]
Gyeong went still. After a moment, he nodded.
"Then I'll keep training."
[You don't have a choice.]
A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Funny. I was thinking the same thing."
He rose to his feet and turned away from the circle. Behind him, C resumed her work, shadowy fingers tracing the sigils with meticulous care.
And once more, Kim Gyeong gathered his resolve and reached for the unruly flow of Universal Ki.
† †
Two more years passed.
Gyeong knew this because he had been keeping mental note of the time, using it as yet another way to endure the endless wait.
Even though time did not flow within this white space, the passage of time beyond it was different.
Simply put, it was a divergence of flow.
But after a certain point, his thoughts began to blur, and even that became difficult to maintain.
The story of his existence as «Kim Gyeong» was slowly fading from his memory.
He could no longer recall the faces of his parents, nor the appearance of his former body.
If nothing had been done, he would have forgotten everything.
After watching the mysterious C make occasional adjustments to the magic circle, he came to a realization that ether could be used to write upon the ground.
Through that, he managed to preserve his name as Kim Gyeong, most of his history as Kim Gyeong — excluding the moment of his death as Kim Gyeong — and, with considerable effort, barely maintain his sanity.
If he had truly died as Kim Gyeong, could he still call himself Kim Gyeong or was he nothing more than a lost soul?
Could he even be called living anymore?
Such questions had plagued the heart of Kim Gyeong throughout six long years in this hell.
He could experience everything a living being could, yet he was dead.
He was a soul.
His current form was nothing more than a "Spirit Body."
Famous philosophers loved to push the idea that existence was defined by perception; that as long as one could think, feel, and observe, one could still be said to be.
Gyeong found little comfort in that notion.
He could feel pain. He could feel exhaustion. He could even feel despair. Yet none of it anchored him to life.
There was no heartbeat to steady him, nor breath to ground him.
Everything he experienced, and would continue to experience, passed through him like a memory rather than a sensation.
A ghost pretending to be whole.
At times, he wondered if this erosion was intentional. If the Death Canopy, this damn white prison, was designed to grind souls down until they no longer remembered who they were, until escape became meaningless because there was nothing left to save.
That thought terrified him more than the River of Destiny ever could.
Gyeong looked down at the symbols he had carved into the ground with ether long ago. His name. Fragmented recollections. Dates that might or might not have been accurate. They were crude, uneven, but they were proof.
Proof that Kim Gyeong had existed.
Proof that he still did.
"I won't disappear." He muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.
Biting his lips, the soul known as Kim Gyeong murmured again.
"I won't disappear."
Again.
"I won't disappear."
And again.
"I won't disappear."
"I won't disappear."
"I won't disappear."
"I won't..."
"..."
Until he lost his breath and his mind was satisfied.