For two whole months, the stubborn "99%" on the panel hadn't budged (the panel's lowest display precision was 1%, incapable of showing decimal values). Every introspection felt like a silent questioning of his choice.
His resolve had wavered, and self-doubt followed him like a shadow, but in the end, he chose to trust the panel.
That trust finally bore fruit yesterday—the final 1% was complete.
At that very moment, an ineffable sense of completion replaced the previous "false perfection."
It was as if the final piece of a puzzle had clicked perfectly into place, closing a complete cycle.
It wasn't a violent surge of power, but a fundamental completion, an ascension of his very state of being.
It was a qualitative leap from ninety-nine to one hundred, a metamorphosis into a state of true, "flawless perfection."
The past three months had been fruitful.
