There are things I've always wondered about: the destiny of every person; the predetermined outcome of a life. From the physique, personality, talent—are these core capabilities decided the moment we enter this world? I've always thought that over in my mind. It is a simple fact that we are not all born equal.
Every creature has its own way of living. A shark suffocates if it stops moving; a horse is born to run; an eagle sees for miles; a tiger is born to hunt. Nature gives them a single path and the tools to follow it. They exist as they are, and yet... those same principles don't seem to apply to us. Humans are different. Try to outrun a cheetah, and you'll be left in the dust before ten strides. Yet, sit behind a wheel, and you can even tear through the sound barrier itself. Humans are a walking contradiction, forever chasing wishes that weren't meant to come true.
It's probably meant that way.
I remember it clearly from the smell, ticking clock, and that discussion with that person. It was an old doctor that I met.
The core of the human paradox lies in our refusal to occupy a niche. We exist as the universe's only "universal predator." *Humans are born with a biological tabula rasa(blank slate) that we immediately begin to fill it with tools, technology, and sheer will.
This creates a haunting dissonance. We are physically fragile, yet we possess a cognitive hunger that demands we sit at the absolute apex of the food chain. We have successfully silenced every natural threat, from the lion to the plague, only to discover that the strength behind our rise also made it capable of destroying ourselves. We are the only architects capable of building a world, and the only monsters capable of burning it down simply because we can.
Even death, the only absolute. Inevitable, yes, yet we have turned its existence into a game of delays. We pump medicine and restart hearts that were meant to stop; we prolong life far beyond its intended expiration. That act itself is the ultimate defiance, a middle finger to the natural order.
We think we are breaking the rules of the universe, but we forget how vast that universe truly is. From its inception to its constant motion, logic dictates there must eventually be an end behind all of it. Something or perhaps someone. We may never know.
No matter how I view my life, looking back, it seems every path I've taken was predetermined before I even chose it.
The same goes for this moment. It's like the universe simply led me here.
My expression darkened, slowly draining the blood from my face. It finally dawned on me: I may have fucked myself. From the look in her eyes, she had decided.
Basically, I agreed to lose myself. And for what—power? Not a bad trade, thinking about it.
I came here wanting a tool I could actually use. Right now, I have nothing; I am weaponless. As much as I crave strength, reality tells me my path is already determined. I can train, but eventually, I will hit a plateau, and even that won't be enough.
And now, it's right in front of me, served on a silver platter.
"Was that the basis of everything?" I asked, "Like… if I asked for something tiny, even the smallest bit, it's still considered the whole? Not just a slice—you have to give the entire pie?"
*I don't even know why I asked that.
She tilted her head. "What is a pie?"
I froze. "Uhm… okay, let me put it another way." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Hypothetically, if I asked for something smaller—let's say, 'I want to see something beyond'. I know, it's not smaller... And I offered you my eye… is that how it works? Equal value, just more specific?"
"However," She countered, "you have neglected to take the currency into account."
"Yes." I raised a hand to pause her. "But based on the logic you laid out—the Principle of Essence. I am still giving up a piece of myself. I'm sacrificing my physical capability to 'see.' I am surrendering one of my five senses. Instead of giving my entire self, I am offering a part of equal value. What I am willing to trade is the 'finite'."
"I appreciate and admire your method of reasoning.," She said with a sheepish smile, as she caressed my cheeks, "However, as I have previously indicated, in the absence of mana, your soul cannot accommodate such a transaction. Essence does not quantify what is taken away, rather, it measures what remains capable of maintaining consistency."
A cold slithered down my spine.
Then he caressed the bags under my eyes, her sharp nail almost grazed it. "You presume that relinquishing a sense constitutes a form of payment because it is finite. Yet finitude does not imply containment, it merely denotes a boundary."
I tried to lean up. "Then what is the difference?"
"Mana creates distance" She replied, "Essence creates continuity."
She leaned closer, "When a host relinquishes an eye under the support of mana, the loss is contained within defined limits. The door opens. The door closes. The self reasserts itself."
"You have none."
"Should I consent to receive your eye," She continued, "that does not constrain the extent of what I may lend to you; it solely dictates the point at which I initially replace you."
"Your sight is not merely a function," She said, "It embodies your judgment, your orientation, and your interpretation. The instant I perceive through your sight, I begin making decisions on your behalf."
"To offer a limb as payment, under the belief that it holds equivalent value," She straightened, "It does not possess such equivalence,"
She forced my eyes to look at her. Her voice softened, "You cannot give me a part of yourself and expect the rest to remain unchanged. There is nothing enforcing the boundary."
"This is why the price is not defined by what you lose." Her fingers curled, "It is defined by that which you will no longer have the power to oppose."
At this point, I have given up. I scoured through my brain, searching for a gap, any crack. I threw everything, looked for a logical loophole I could wedge myself into to pry this whole thing apart. I needed a rule I could lean on, a boundary that would say this is negotiable.
Even though it felt half-assed, I really can't think of anything else. I'm at the point where the person before me was simply inevitability itself.
Nothing held against her... Not like I asked thousand of questions...
It felt like I'd reached the end of the road and found no cliff.
I am at my wit's end.
Truth be told...
I'm scared.
Then, a thought surfaced.
"Would my body even be able to withstand it?" I asked. "There are cases where the physical body collapses. Destroys itself under the strain"
Like what I'd read from the case studies.
I kept my gaze on her, not challenging or pleading. I'm just asking the only question left in me.
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she exhaled, slowly.
"You are still pointing at the wrong body," She said.
I frowned. "What?"
Her gaze was settling somewhere behind my eyes or beyond it.
"The flesh you inhabit is insignificant," She continued. "It is an expression. A shadow cast by a deeper structure."
A pressure settled around me, not on my skin, but through it.
"What bears the contract is not muscle or bone," She said. "It is the astral body. The soul's shape. That is where strain accumulates."
My throat tightened. "So if my physical body—"
"—fails," She said, seamlessly, "the body serves merely as a vessel; what holds true significance is whether the soul can withstand it."
I went still.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I felt the subtle pull of inevitability threading through the space between us.
She studied me for a long moment.
Then she spoke again.
"You have unveiled it to me." She said softly, almost reverently.
I stared at her.
Silence stretched between us.
Then she leaned in and whispered into my ear so softly that I could feel her breath. "Reach for the stars with hands willing to bleed. A star does not care if the hand is scorched. It only knows how to burn."
The silence that followed it, wasn't empty: it was heavy. I began contemplating all the pros and cons. I realized then that I wasn't choosing between life and death. I was choosing between a life of predetermined plateaus, a "suitable" life or one where every step might erase who I was, and where I might finally mean something.
"Losing the ability to choose..." I whispered,
I closed my eyes. I thought of the shark that suffocates if it stops. I didn't want a "suitable" path. Well, this was no different from what I had before coming in this world, but at least I could make something good of it. It really circles back, huh.
Is this really the right path?
I questioned myself a thousand times.
Same circumstance, yet one is opportunity. Funny how that works.
I inhaled through my nose, closing my eyes, then exhaled slowly.
"I accept."
No voice responded.
I waited for the sky to crack or the ground to shatter, no thunderous voice, or sudden rush of energy. None of that happened. Nothing seemed different. My thoughts remained the same.
But then, the world began to slow down.
I felt a change before I could even understand it, like something settled within me. Suddenly, I became hyper-aware of reality: the distance between the soles of my feet and the ground; the microscopic friction of my clothes against my skin, of the way my weight distributed itself across muscle and bone; the air entering my lungs, the temperature, its pressure, everything.
Yet, I was not overwhelmed by it.
More than anything, I felt deeply rooted in the world than I had ever been, as though I had been acknowledged by the laws of reality.
A voice whispered inside my chest, not hers, not mine, but somewhere in between.
[Do you understand what you have agreed upon?]