Chương 28: Chapter 27: The Yearly Grind

That loop was quite nice. I learned a lot, but I could learn faster if I were even better at magic. I'm not bad since I have the equivalent of 'faint predisposition', but I could give myself an even bigger edge. The third tier transformation skill 'heir predisposition' blinks on the arcade machine. It costs a whopping 1750 points. And so, I hesitate. Technically, I could get it now. My main problem is that, so far, my decision making when it comes to skill purchase has been middling… at best.

Animasomatic imprint — which lets me start every loop awakened — was pretty much compulsory. The soul key skill has proven immensely useful, but the faint close quarter predisposition has seen limited use because of how outclassed I still am by the people I am facing. Same with hide presence: I simply need to train more. At least those skills will absolutely prove themselves useful fairly soon, when it's time for me to take a second swing at dear Malice. My problem is the soul spell technique.

So far, I have yet to cast them successfully once, which means I have wasted those points. At least in the short term. My studies are going nicely so far. I don't feel a need to commit right now. I take one last glance at my happily updated skill list. Steve Prentiss. Qualia points available: Physical awakening: first stage Mage traditions: Demetrion's soul magic. Guild fleshcrafting.

Soul awakening: third stage Time Avatar traits: Perfect loop (time) Perfect soul (time) Reset (time) Atemporal Hypercognition (time) Avatar language acquisition (neutral) Native So-Sah (neutral) Native Kei-Sah (neutral) Fluent Ten-Sah (neutral) Novice depth clicking tongue (Wallkeeper tribe). Art of the Awakening: Advanced three gates meditation method Basic soul-based mana siphon.

Advanced training knowledge Path of Everything Art of the Soul Advanced telepath Advanced locus manipulation Advanced mass communication Advanced Soul sweep Basic mana siphon. Subsume own emotions. Hide soul. Art of the Warrior. Faint close quarter predisposition. Basic defender operator Advanced staff: Art of the Ape Basic squad tactics (com specialist) Adept mass communication Art of the Thief. Advanced arcane lockpicking Novice hide presence Art of the Mage. Novice mana manipulation and aspecting.

Novice fleshcrafting. There are a few minor changes I can spot. The depth clicking song comes from Martha, bless her nipple piercings. I hope to meet her again sometime soon. Subsume emotion is… interesting. I'm guessing this is what happens when I swallow my own emotions by pulling my soul in. I discovered the technique by accident and I regret it, because I'm getting the feeling this is interfering with the soul spells, which require powerful emotions.

So I stabbed myself in the metaphor by finding a way to calm down and carry on when I absolutely shouldn't. Curse me and my stiff upper lip. Still, this is shaping up nicely. I think I can see a way forward. I really needed a way forward. And now to walk it again.

This time, I don't rush to the Garden immediately. After linking with an ever cooperative Krane and warning Deza, I make my way to a nearby hotel to write down three sets of notes. I only travel there the next day. To be successful, I time my arrival with one of Kimera's occasional breaks, although she tends to just work through them. The lure functions, even if it takes far longer for her to come.

Just as before Lumie comes to check on me only to jump when I playfully greet her with a poke at her soul, and Kimera's soul is still distant when a puppet body clumsily sits in front of me.

"I apologize for the delay," she lies.

"Not to worry, I know puppets can be hard to coordinate." I am rewarded with a flinch, then a neutral expression as Kimera reasserts control. I decide not to wait.

"I'll be brief. I'm the Avatar of Time. We are all stuck in a time loop; I've helped you before, and this is proof." I carefully slide a notebook across the table. Only a few pages are filled so far, but I get the feeling it will be much thicker by the time we're done. Kimera doesn't touch it.

"So you are not here to help me with Project Metempsychosis then?"

"I am far from the mastery required to create the nodules. I can, however, help you with the Larim worm project." The puppet's expression is far too neutral for me to read anything, and I feel strangely eerie about trying to read her distant soul.

"Why not lead up with that?" she asks.

"Because your research into the Larim worms is known to many. It can even be inferred from your world of origin, while the mnemonic nodules are a more niche area of specialty an outsider would be unlikely to know. That was your reasoning, at least."

"... was?"

"The other version of you I already met. This will be the second time we work together, if you will have me, of course, master fleshcrafter Kimera." She mulls the words in silence for a little while, that being four seconds. Hey it's practically an eternity for her. Eventually, she just opens the page. The puppet looks down and freezes. I feel a storm approaching. I open the door for her which gets me an alarmed look, then her true self grabs the notebook with quickly sharpening claws. Her eyes widen.

She flips the page.

"How?" she yells.

"First thing first, your puppet is dripping on your chair."

"Oh! Sorry."

"It was never your specialty," I reply, shrugging. I'm scaring her. I can feel it in her soul as she reabsorbs the puppet. That surprise turns to shock when she goes through the entire book. She places it delicately back on the table, apparently lost. I push a bottle toward her. She mechanically opens it and drinks. So trusting…

"Oh, it tastes… decent? The consistency is a little too thick. I expected alcohol."

"You don't need alcohol. You need fiber. Miss occasional nutrient bars."

"Stop that! You don't know me." I cross my arms. Sadly, she flinches again.

"Perhaps you do know me, prospective disciple, but I do not know you and I find this rather unpleasant."

"We have almost a year to get familiar with each other… should you agree to be my master once again."

"Well, I… this is all rather unexpected." I give her more time while she double checks the notes.

"I can imagine. Take your time. I will explain the plan when you're ready," I add.

"You have a plan?" she asks, voice still quavering." We have a plan," I correct.

"Think of the situation as you losing the memories of a year which then repeats while I remember. The one who conducted the research was still you."

"I… alright. Yes. I understand this on an intellectual level, I just need some time to accept it in my heart. Now, explain the plan, my prospective disciple."

"We need to continue my training with flesh mana manipulation. Our first priority should be to bring me back to third ascension. Fortunately, you and, ah, your superior—""Antea?!" Shit I should have been more careful.

"She will figure it out and be quite supportive about it," I say.

"That nosey tyrant? Gah!"

"Master Arek can help us with a Visage of the Meek reversal, which will restore me to full strength."

"He will ask something in exchange," Kimera grumbles. Which is when I place the second book on the table.

"Anti-toxin research with scaled up production options."

"Good! Great. Then we can start immediately."

"We should go to him immediately, but we can only return the research results a week later." Kimera stops mid-standing up and before she can abuse another door.

"Why?"

"Because if he comes up with a demand, and you already have the prize ready, he will be extremely spooked and immensely suspicious. He's a shadow, remember?"

"Oh, true!"

"But if you come with a complete solution after only a week, he will feel completely outclassed by your talent and will prefer to shut up." Kimera's ruby lips twist into a rather devious smile.

I know where Lumie's sitting and also where the non-poisonous food is. It gives me confidence while I approach her table. A friendly poke to Lumie makes her squeal, gathering the curiosity of her group.

"We meet again!" I greet as she turns to me. The reaction of the rest of them is immediate and hostile. They instinctively move their bodies closer to the younger woman, glares shining in the window's light.

"You must be Kimera's first disciple…" Erynis hisses with a smile that reveals his canines.

"Oh don't mind me, I'm just greeting a fellow soul awakened." Then I easily grab the group in mass telepathy. Hello everyone. Surprise disarms the conflict before it can bloom.

"Mind if I sit here? Oh, are you making a throwable blade system? Aregian ambusher genes, right?" Erynis gestures with a frown, apparently too surprised to refuse me. I sit at the edge of the group opposite Lumie, then I gesture at his arms after my hands are free.

"I noticed the slits. I'm still far from being a proper disciple, but I'll do my best to catch up while helping Master Kimera. Hey, you guys like music? Let me show you something cool."

"Isn't that a flesh golem tool?" a nearby woman asks.

"Oh you of little faith. Observe!" I use the song key, playing one of my favorite tunes and feeling my soul relax as I do so. Waves of contentment spread through the stressed out ranks of the students. And now I'm popular again.

"I can help you settle!" Lumie offers. I could get used to this.

The third notebook I gave to Antea, with Kimera's blessing. I expected I wouldn't be summoned until after the explosion again because of how outlandish my claims were, so I'm very surprised when two guards show up at my door less than one hour after reception. I'm pretty sure I catch the smoky traces of a camouflaged soul in the vicinity as well, though I'm not good enough to tell. I should practice at some point. After the elevator drops me next to the office, I enter and bow smartly.

"Grandmaster Antea." She's back to being that terrifying matron I first spotted, and now I realize how much she softened her approach over the months. Wait… was she adapting her behavior? She's doing it again, authoritative behavior relaxing. Aaaaand I'm lowering my guard.

"Please take a seat. Thank you, Joz. Disciple Prentiss, tea?"

"Always. I wanted to ask, if you don't mind. Are you tailoring your persona to my reactions?" She gives me a half smile.

"Disciple, absolutely everyone does that."

"Are you perhaps extremely good at this skill?"

"I see my past iteration made you comfortable enough that you would be so… casual." Ah, she's pissed.

"Sorry I meant no insult."

"I understand. This must be rather new for both of us…" I sip a bit of the excellent tea. Hmm, fizzy.

"I assume we're waiting for Master Kimera?" I continue, this time using her title since I'm already skirting the edges of propriety.

"Indeed." It doesn't take long before Kimera comes storming in. Once again I open the gate in advance so it doesn't bang against the wall, feeling a faint amusement coming from Antea as I do so.

"Antea. Would you mind explaining why you were having a conversation with my disciple? Without me present?"

"We were waiting for you." Kimera searches my expression. I nod and point at the seat. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"We need to talk about the explosion," I explain.

"If you could join us?"

"Oh, yes. That." That indeed. Kimera frowns, probably trying to come to terms with the fact her research sometimes isn't the most important thing going on.

"This Year of Judgment affair is interfering with our work," she complains. Antea doesn't move but her soul shivers in a way that suspiciously resembles a sigh. A rather tired sigh.

"It appears this is the second time we cooperate?" Antea asks me.

"Yes."

"And last time I didn't believe you?"

"No, which is why I'm rather surprised you would do so now."

"Those notes are mine. I will not expand upon ciphers and markers but suffice to say, you being a time traveler is by far the most likely explanation for the mountain of very… of certain information you could not possibly possess. No one but me could possess." Her mouth twists with clear displeasure.

"As unlikely as it may sound. Now, have you tried to prevent said explosion?"

"We have. A few times. My only serious attempt, we were demolished by Malice and Pain's avatars. Notably, Krane could barely slow them down and I'm reasonably sure he's fourth awakening. And not a lightweight either."

"Hmm."

"If it helps, they dwell in the spider district."

"We do not have much time. Unfortunately, I do not have the power to send several squads there. I believe I could manage a pair of scouts." She pauses.

"Perhaps go myself. We will only be scouting for now. You are far from ready to assist us. Retuning to the training part, Kimera, I assume you have set up classes for your disciple? Remedial courses?"

"... I have prepared material. Why?"

"I will be assisting you in this endeavor."

"He's my disciple!"

"And you will be quite busy with your research, isn't that right? Let the guild assist you with setting up the best curriculum for our newest recruit, hmm?" Kimera turns a little red with barely contained fury.

"Let me attend classes. We want my education to be thorough," I say in a conciliatory manner.

"Then we go over the day's lessons at night. We did it that way last time and it worked pretty well."

"We did?"

"It was fun, too," I confirm. My argument apparently convinces her. Antea clarifies how much progress I've made so far before sending us on our way with the promise she'd find tutors for us. I have to admit, it sounds better than solitary studies for months.

Kimera requests Master Arek's help with the Visage of the Meek Reversal. A week later, a quietly amused Kimera delivers the finished product to an utterly baffled shadow. The complete surprise at a finished product then leads to a despondent shame until I almost feel sorry for the poor lad. Kimera doesn't act smugly superior because as funny as it is, her glory is undeserved. I think it makes it even worse for Arek. The reversal is much faster and easier this time.

After I've regained my hard-won muscles, Kimera's reaction turns subdued. This isn't how she reacted last time.

'What?" I ask her in the elevator.

"It's nothing," she shakes her head, growing a little pink.

"Hmm. Can we head back to the lab? Or do you need a moment?"

"I wouldn't dare to stand between you and your research."

"Disciple! Get me sample… oh, that was fast, thank you."

"Happy to help."

"Hmm, the notes say that Rokas symbiotes are a no go. I… hmm. Did I test it correctly? I was sure they would be a perfect vector for egg predators."

"You did. Your conclusion was that the dispersed nature of pseudogenes in their sequence limited how much they could be rewritten, restricting the coding space in a way that would prevent the product from working without fleshcrafter input." Fleshcrafters don't care about the length of DNA strands, or even the number of chromosomes when they transform themselves.

Genes are just a guideline to warp the flesh according to their will, but for gene mods and related products such as custom-made antibodies and the likes, they have to work within heavy constraints. The products must function without flesh mana, so fleshcrafters rewrite parts of the genome to give their products the desired traits, but there is a catch.

Getting longer DNA strands fucks with cellular reproduction, and is considered extremely unstable — some Patrician families still use those which means getting fleshcrafter help for every kid. But in order to get a product that can be cultivated without fleshcrafter input, Kimera can only rewrite the 'junk DNA' part of the genome of the host organism for her more complex alterations.

"You discovered that the non-coding parts of the strands were as large as advertised, but too fragmented to write in something as complex as egg hunting."

"Hmm."

"Page 3 of the notebook should have the codes you came up with."

"Oh, yes." She consults the book for around two seconds before returning her attention to me.

"It will be much easier when you can use nodules."

"Working on it."

"But otherwise you're turning out to be a surprisingly competent assistant, my disciple."

"I had a great teacher!" I shamelessly say. Kimera chuckles. It's a low-pitched rumble that comes from the chest, an unrestrained expression of amusement contrasting with the carefully curated appearance masters cultivate. When her laugh ends, her eyelids lower and she gently bites her lower lip. And then I feel the weight of her entire focus on me. She steps closer, smelling faintly of caramel.

"I love a silver-tongued man. So, disciple, tell me. Did something happen between us last time?" Her clawed hands rest on my own.

"Well, as the loop was ending, you did something very daring and… very hot."

"Why don't you show me? Oh…" I gently embrace her, giving her time to push me back but she doesn't. Her arms grip my shoulder when I kiss her. She's a bit shy, a bit hesitant and then very enthusiastic. Her soul gently blooms with happiness and excitement, and I mirror it, sending it back to her. The kiss grows more passionate. I'm losing myself. And then she pushes me back. Not gently.

"Oh, sorry," I begin.

"I —""No intimacy in the lab! Not with all those contaminants around; it goes against regulations. Imagine if you ravish me on the table and I push a jar of Lyrian acid on the tiles." Her gaze goes to her worktable. Her face is flushed. I guess mine must be too.

"No urgent experiment. Disciple, I find myself in need of a break. Come!" I am practically dragged through the door and to the nearby elevator. A passing sentry gives us a rather unimpressed look. Once the doors of the lift close she practically jumps on me, but only for a few seconds.

"That thing you did with your soul…"

"You liked it?" Her clawed hand gently rakes over my torso. I feel their sharp ends through the reinforced cloth of my disciple robe. A wave of pleasure follows it, all synapses firing. It's better than the very best massage.

"Oh. Nice."

"It gave me an idea." The doors open on her floor. I guess it's time to experiment.

Training continues. Antea provides me with a variety of patient private tutors, and between the language skill and the magic predisposition I apparently have, I pick up everything with a speed that makes the young teachers believe I'm not a complete waste of their time. And that's a reminder that I may be special now thanks to godly shenanigans, but this is Enderlith. Everyone who's anyone is special around here.

For our first date, I bring Kimera to the shallow depths for sample collection, using my soul to track down some of the mutated horrors dwelling there. Her war form is terrifying in a cool sort of way, quite fast too. We make love in a garden of luminescent mushrooms. She brings me to the Fleshcrafter's Garden hidden restaurants for some absolutely fantastic experiences. On the last day of the month, we go to space. I have to wear a suit; she doesn't.

We watch Enderlith's smoldering entrails tumble down towards Obis below in a moment of pure quiet. She gives my hand a squeeze I can feel through the glove. After we head back, she hugs me.

"We'll stop it. Don't worry. You said so yourself: you're not ready. But after I'm done with you, you will be." She nods to herself.

"You will be." I'm not so sure, but it will certainly be a start.

I sit on the floor of Kimera's bedroom, the lush carpet cradling my arse like a cozy egg. We should probably air the room.

"Very well, disciple. The time has come for the fleshcrafting affinity test. I want you to excite your blood first." I close my eyes and focus. Unaspected mana shivers through the 'three gates'. Aspecting to flesh is a fast and easy feat, mostly because my star affinity remains distant, cold, and pale, so far unresponsive. Flesh is warm and fluid, a bit feral and eager too. I'm familiar with it by now. With methodical care I direct that mana across my body.

This is something that I instinctually did when practicing the staff, but now the mana is aspected and significantly more… purposeful. I guide it to blood by sheer impression. Flesh crafting works through a strange synesthesia that changes the way my mind functions, which was a bit disconcerting at first. Blood is warm and fast and filled with useful things. Red, thick, the easiest, most relatable part of the body to infuse. Now that mana rushes through it, nutrients find their paths more easily.

Waste is disposed of with unmatched efficiency. If I were sick, the leukocyte hunting through mobs of red blood cells like bloodhounds would tear all but the most severe infections apart. I start sweating.

"Good. Skeletal system next." Strong, resilient yet still very alive, hiding a treasure inside. I could punch through a wall without breaking anything.

"Muscles." Lines of power. I could lift a car.

"Tendons." The bridge, the anchor.

"Nervous system?" Thunder, fine-tuned and shining like a midnight metropolis.

"Ligaments. The liver. Lungs. Good. Now more specific: your spine. Good. Even more specific: myofibrils?" I focus on the muscles then dive. Isolating parts of the body is easy: I just have to ignore the rest. Focusing on a type of cells is harder but myofibrils are on the easy end of the spectrum. They contain the contractile filaments that make the muscle move in the first place. I think about flexing, and my perception sharpens.

"Good. Good! Amazing, disciple. You pass with flying colors. I will say, you are not yet worthy of being one of us, but you are certainly getting there. Such fast progress. I am suitably pleased. Very pleased, indeed. Well then, disciple…" Her warm breath tickles my ear. The next moment, she gently bites the earlobe.

"We're going to see your control now for… extra credit. Suffuse your corpora cavernosa." Her hands start from my shoulders then to my lower back, and then around, and lower, trailing a wave of pleasure in their wake. I get hard so fast it hurts.

"I gave you an order, disciple." Corpora cavernosa, corpora cavernosa. Ouch.

"You're telling me to infuse my genitals, master," I remind her because I'm having a mixed experience right the fuck now.

"Less talking, more dick. I have something… special planned, disciple. Our technique depository is host to some very interesting tricks."

"You researched sex stuff?" I gasp. She bites my earlobe again, harder this time, then she licks it and I feel her tongue's shape change.

"Oh my God."

"You will be calling my name, disciple. Pants off."

This section of the Garden isn't famous for its decor, that's for sure. Kimera leads me through off-white corridors lit by a warm yellow glow. The rooms visible through inviting doors are also white, with plants and lush seats aplenty. Several gene modded pets follow students and professors around, purring and receiving a lot of well-deserved attention for being so fluffy. Nevertheless, I am nervous, because the area around those seats is designed to be water-proof and stain-resistant.

But it's the next step on my journey so it must be done no matter what. Kimera finds the spot we reserved. She sits down first, then her flesh dress rearranges itself to be simpler. Her spines are reabsorbed, replaced by curly brown hair. When she sees my surprise, she smiles.

"I will not lie and say this will be a pleasant experience, disciple. I will be dulling the pain, but your body's sympathetic nervous system will still trigger your fight or flight response. The guild found that a more, shall we say, benign appearance lowers the cortisol and adrenaline output so that you may focus more easily."

"Is this your original hair? Looks soft."

"Ah. Yes. I haven't used my original genetic material since I could do my first alteration. Do you like it?"

"I like all aspects of you," I tease. Kimera blushes as she frowns. Weirdly, this helps me relax.

"I have not come here to be flattered, my disciple. Focus on our training. Now, I will be doing an incision on your palm. Human brains place a large emphasis on hands, so healing them comes more naturally to beginners. You can look away if you want. I do not. Kimera manifests a long and viciously sharp claw on her index finger, then she gently takes my hand and places it on the white table between us. She stabs downs, then drags.

I can hear my flesh tear but the pain is dull like an old, closing would, not the terrifying bite of a sudden cut. Blood slowly pools in the hollow of my palm. A red droplet falls to the side trailing an inky red path. The liquid is instantly absorbed by the white table. No trace is left.

"As fascinating as it is, I will ask you to focus." I do so. I close my eyes and feel the pulse of harm radiate through my body. My nervous system is flashing, stuff in my blood is moving — most likely the platelets — while other veins contract. There is just a red dot that calls for attention. It's not large at all, but I find it compelling.

"Disciple, you are remarkably calm about this."

"Not my first time getting hurt."

"But I will still ask that you do as we said. Start with the muscle." Kimera clawed deep enough to reach my lumbricals. Very rude. Normally, the body would repair itself over a period of time with the liberal use of collagen matrices and, technically, I can already overcharge that. But closing wounds over hours is so pedestrian. The flesh bends to our will, so I'm going to will it closed and move on from there.

I focus on the muscle, then imagine it back into its previous configuration which was 'unmolested by my spiky girlfriend'. Sadly, nothing happens.

"If you had succeeded on the first try, I would have killed you on the spot, disciple, for you would be blessed by Transformation. Now, pay attention, I'm going to knit the edge of the wound shut using my own mana. I'll be very slow and not very subtle to help you out. Observe how the mana flows and try to do the same. Again, don't worry if you mess it up. I will correct any mistake you made afterward. I'm here for you. The important part is getting started."

"Alright." I don't achieve anything on the first day, and only make slow progress over the following week. We take frequent breaks during which Kimera insists I eat sweet things, apparently to help my body settle a bit. She's pleasantly surprised when I seal my first laceration, then she helps me heal through increasingly gruesome wounds.

I learn how to reattach ligaments, fix fractured bones, knit organs back in shape and generally rebuild myself all under Kimera's focused supervision, the only aspect of training she categorically refuses to leave to a tutor. She keeps the bleeding and pain to a minimum in order to make it easier for me to concentrate. Twisted bones are straightened, scars smoothed over and generally, I am the most 'intact' I've ever been after she's gone over everything.

Self-healing is the basics of fleshcrafting before bringing body control and mutations into it. It saddens me to say that I feel it's going to be a very useful skill moving forward. And while I make fast progress, the year marches on without mercy.

War is held at bay. Barely. Kerentis shows up at the same time as the previous iteration, which means her timing isn't random but a consequence of my own influence. My current theory is that while Kerentis is aware of the loop, she only starts hunting me down once Enderlith's surviving authorities manifest a rather uncanny ability to predict what catastrophe comes next. The moment traces of my influence appear, she goes after it with ravenous fury.

Her self-destructive behavior shows that she doesn't care about ruling because she knows she won't get to, therefore all her efforts are dedicated to wasting my time. So to speak. It's a sound strategy. Or it would be, were time not on my side. But then… why doesn't she come sooner? On a hunch, I check how long does it take to come by void ship from the Kerentis empire to here. As it turns out, she could show up before War does. So… what happens? I guess I won't get an easy answer.

Nevertheless, I continue with healing practice until the fateful night. This time, I have to untangle myself from naked limbs so I can answer the summons. Kimera wordlessly forms her dress around her, then we rush to the elevator covered by unmasked guards in their war forms. She doesn't let go of my hand the entire time. Antea welcomes us. There is no need for words. We are ready.

"Do you need… help?" she finally asks.

"I guess the previous you didn't have time to add it. I can reset the loop at will." Kimera's grip on my finger becomes painful.

"Do you need a moment?" Antea asks after a short pause.

"Yes, please."

"Then I will buy you time. Don't wait too long." Antea leaves faster than I can perceive. This leaves Kimera and I together. I push back a wave of misery threatening to swallow me. I hate it.

"Don't close yourself to me," Kimera orders, voice cracking.

"But —""Anything but that." I turn toward her, conveying my grief and anxiety and regretting it because she must already be feeling horrible and now I'm piling my own sadness on top of her own organically grown sadness. Kimera charges my ribs, her embrace strong enough to crack them. Her face is stuck to my chest so I can't see her cry. But I can hear it.

"Please don't let me go," she begs.

"I promise, I'll return. I'll always return in the end."

"You'll leave. You must leave."

"And I will return."

"And it won't be the same me. All those moments we shared, lost to a moment that will no longer exist. Everything will be undone." I hold her while she hugs me so tightly, it's like she's trying to merge.

"Not everything."

"Don't let me go…" The tree shakes.

"Please," she sobs.

"I'm sorry, Kimera." I don't dare to end the loop. I am stuck here like a man caught among towers of beautiful crystal. Any move and I will topple edifices of fragile dreams to a shattering end. I don't want to, because I will never get them back. Kimera will not change, but I will. We will never share this exact instant again. Ever. Those are the last seconds of this Kimera, and no one can do anything about it. Those seconds slip between my fingers like sand I cannot hold or reclaim.

So much for being the Avatar of Time. Fuck. Sounds of battle can be heard outside the walls. People are screaming. Kimera's claws dig in the meat of my back.

"Go. Now." It's the end. No good option but to obey. So, I do. Death count: 10 Loss count: 3 Qualia points acquired: 67 Continued learning of fleshcrafting theory: 12 Learned basic level fleshcrafting trauma healing: 55 New total available 2871

"What?" I ask the two gods.

"No quips? No snark? No witty remarks? Where be your gibes now?"

"Tequila?" the God of Time offers, waving an unmarked bottle of poorly made glass that contains a murky liquid.

"Fuck it, I can't get drunk anway. Start pouring, oh unrelenting one."

"Here we go. To your health!" The liquid burns on its way down but the aftertaste is glorious. Morag starts chugging the entire bottle, gives up midway and then just shoves the half-empty container down her throat. Her nightmarish teeth close with the sound of broken glass. She chews pensively. The pain of separation is dulled to an ache here by the nature of the space. I do not feel like smiling, yet seeing the shenanigans of the two gods, I cannot he; p but feel that despite everything, they have my back.

In their own weird way. I'm fairly certain they're not obligated to be there to welcome me every time.

"You know, this whole 'everyone I love forgetting everything' has gotten old very fast." Chronos shrugs.

"So do something about it."

"Wait? There is a way?"

"Who knows!"

"You know."

"Who! Knows!" He laughs. I sit back in my chair nursing the mysteriously full shot glass. Hmm. Standing up, I check the skill list, and find nothing. No skills related to transferring memories. But I also remember what Chronos told me at the beginning of my little outing. I can make skills. I can invent new techniques. Can flesh mana create memories? Perhaps in neuron packets I could transfer to other masters?

But then it would take a true master to safely unpack the neuron structures and integrate them with their own without fucking things up. If they even believe me. Who in their right mind would allow a stranger to completely rewrite their neural pathways. Still, there might be a way… or there might be a spell. A specific spell, and then I could store memories and return them. Or there might be a way to do it with soul magic as well, a transfer of memories as impressions.

Or even something more aggressive, like a superimposition. It's a shame I know so little about soul magic for now. Hmm. If I could do this, I could definitely break the loop, shatter the chains that reset the world around me every time. How prepared could Krane become with infinite time? So many possibilities. I think I'm a long way from them still, and yet… And yet.

"You sly god. You distracted me from my woes. You gave me a purpose." His eyes flash silver. Morag manifests a barrel of tequila she proceeds to dunk her head in.

"Thanks, you two." I don't think I need more skills for my next run. It's just… going to hurt a lot. But also it should be quite nice. Anyway, I still have much to learn before I'm even considered a journeyman, much less a master. I can't wait.

"I'm ready. Send me back!" Still not my flat.