April 17th​

“How do you define yourself, if not by your actions?” I quietly asked myself.

I sat on the edge of the building, letting the rain fall around me as I stared off into the distance. No answers came from the rain, nor the sight of roads and trees beyond the parking lot. I cycled in, letting the energy fill me. Fire and earth slept, stronger than the rest of the passive mix of energy. Actively pushing was wood, emanating from the plant on the rooftop nearby.

Behind me, several people were taking soil measurements and other measurements of the blackberry bush underneath the makeshift greenhouse. Karen had managed to snag a couple of professors and researchers from the school and over the past couple of days; the bush had proven its worth by fruiting almost at a visible pace. Replanted clippings apparently didn’t have nearly the speed, but still grew out of season.

A tiny portion of the root had been clipped as well, but the moment it had been the cycling of wood energy from that portion of the root had faded. The root was still growing in another pot, but it hadn’t pushed up canes overnight nor was it building up any strength as well. A couple of us had panicked that cutting the root had stopped the main plant from whatever it was doing, but thankfully the root had just sealed off the cut portion and continued happily on.

To further its growth, several more people were building an actual framework of a greenhouse. It’d taken Danny a couple of days and throwing quite a bit of money around to buy the Seekers way past the queue of other jobs to get that happening. Danny had confessed that it wouldn’t be hard for us to build it but he couldn’t actually find the materials, only a company that already had them.

Danny was trying to find someone to install an internal staircase up as well, but that was a bigger project. Not everyone wanted to climb up a fire ladder, which I understood. But apparently the complaint was it was too difficult to expect everyone to do so.

Apparently not everyone wanted to light their dantian, much less go through the blocks. I couldn’t understand that, honestly. If everyone had as hard a time as I did after the third, I could see possibly stopping then. But why put zero effort into gaining free strength and stamina? The literal extra energy?

“You guys need me to bring anything down?” I looked at the handful of workers and researchers once again. At no positive responses, I shrugged.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed off the edge dropping the thirty-ish feet to the wet concrete below. Melissa still hadn’t finished her technique, but a thirty foot drop was still within my own ability to absorb without issue.

Entering the building, I shook the water off and hung the raincoat up, letting it drip into the buckets underneath the hooks. “How’s it going?” I asked Tasha.

The woman in question looked up from her computer and nodded at me. “Alright. I’ve fielded a few questions regarding if you were going to be teaching any classes soon. Did you want to plan one?”

I dropped into a chair. “I’m not certain what I’d be teaching, besides possibly trying to monitor people making further breakthroughs? Or maybe falling lessons?”

“The gist of the questions revolved around similar things, yes. I think people are hoping to see what it looks like with more breakthroughs,” Tasha agreed. “You’re somewhat of a goal right now for others. I’m tracking everyone that’s a direct member of the Dantian Seekers and anyone else that’s been willing to give us their information, and most people are only in their first or second breakthrough.”

She smiled. “Ironically, the people who didn’t have power are more numerous in the second breakthrough category. Everyone’s being really good about following the ‘fix your dantian’ requirement so the others are somewhat lagging behind.”

I shrugged. “I guess I don’t mind, but I don’t like the idea of just showing off that I’m stronger than everyone else. That doesn’t seem right.”

“So, what do you want to do a class on then?” Tasha asked me.

“Let me think on it a bit, I don’t know just yet. I don’t mind showing off some, but I want it to have a reason.” Which reminded me... “Hey, is Danny upstairs or doing his karate thing?”

“His karate thing.” Tasha smiled a little. “Did you need him?”

“No, he was asking a couple of days ago to test something with me and sparring with more breakthroughs. I’ll go find him, thanks.” I nodded to Tasha and got up.

After changing into my own workout clothes, I found Danny again sparring against someone else, but only the two of them were there and no onlookers this time. They were sparring at non-slow speeds this time.

“Hey Danny, I called, making them separate, bowing to each other. “I’ve got some time if you want to do that difference between multiple breakthroughs testing you were talking about?”

Danny looked me over. “You sure your head is feeling alright? You were hurting pretty bad yesterday.”

I nodded. “I’m OK. Headache’s gone with no soreness remaining.” I looked between them. “So, how do we do this?”

“I’m Pat,” the other guy introduced himself. “So, do you have any martial arts training?”

I shook my head. “Only what my dad taught me. Wrist straight, thumb on the outside if you have to punch someone.”

“Well, that’s not wrong at least,” he laughed. “Since Danny’s higher than I am, I assume you’re going to be using me for a test on those differences?”

“No,” Danny immediately said. “Nicole’s at five, I’m at two, you’re at one. We’re going to have to be stupidly careful letting her hit us. I was more thinking of getting the block pads and having Nicole block hits until she’s comfortable trying without them.”

“Wait, five?” Pat whistled. “I didn’t realize. Yeah. Let’s definitely get you blocking first then, no beginner punches.”

Danny grabbed a couple of small pads that were hung up on a wall and slipped them onto his hands. “Alright, punching pads. These are basically used to train hits to specific areas, or there’s the bigger one used to block kicks.”

He held the pads up in front of him and Pat punched out a few times, denting them fairly heavily with each strike. “Honestly, I don’t expect them to last too long, we can put some pretty heavy damage on them even now. But we can use them right now just to let you get the feel for it.”

Danny pulled them off and offered them to me. I grabbed them and fumbled for a second before slipping them on. I held up my hands in front of me, the pads facing outwards. “Like this?”

Danny adjusted my hands a bit. “Alright. Just brace yourself and let Pat punch the pads. We’ll work up to full strength, I promise.”

I nodded and put one foot back a little. It was kind of strange, since the height difference was enough that to hold them up for his punching he’d be punching next to my head.

After feeling the first few punches—more like hesitant feather taps—against the pads, I just gave him a look. “You’re barely even hitting. You guys were going faster during your test spars a few days ago.” Pat nodded and then started punching a bit harder, switching to using his back arm. I frowned as the strikes hit the pad but still didn’t push my own arm back, much less make me need to actually brace myself. There was a bit of echo through the energy flowing in me, but it felt almost negligible. “How hard are you hitting?”

Pat paused. “I actually practice Judo so honestly I’m not a straight punch type of person. But I’m throwing backhand punches with a good bit of strength, yet hitting the pad is like punching a padded wall. You’re not giving in the least.”

I tilted my head. “Huh.” I looked at Danny. “Do you want him to punch my hand then? Or what’s next?”

Danny looked between the two of us. “Try a couple of punches without the pad. I don’t think it’s going to make much difference though.”

I pulled the pad off and held my hand out, open palm facing Pat.

“Don’t lock your elbow please,” Pat asked, and I crooked my arm slightly. He took a couple of tentative punches at my hand which didn’t move, before he threw a haymaker, solidly connecting with my arm. I felt the impact that time, but it still didn’t move my arm. “That’s entirely unfair,” he complained, showing a half-disbelieving stare.

“For science’s sake, were you cycling?” Danny asked.

“Yeah. I’m fairly certain that was a brick breaking punch and you didn’t even move. I’m not certain you actually had to strain.” Pat gave me a look.

“I was bracing for the impact and actually felt that, if it helps?” I offered.

“Not really.”

“Are you good with me doing a few punches into your hand then, Nicole?” Danny asked. “It’s not going to take long to realize I’m probably not going to be much better.”

I nodded, holding my open palm out again. Danny’s punches were a little stronger and I had to actually pay attention to the hits to keep my arm steady, but not much else.

“Can I try something?” Pat asked after Danny gave up.

I turned to look at him. “What’s that?”

He shook his head. “Something slightly different. Reach out your arm like you were punching at me?” Shrugging, I did so. His hand lashed out, grabbed past my wrist, and twisted to my elbow; his other hand going into my shoulder and putting weight against it as the sudden movement caught me off-guard and forced me to bend over. “You OK?” he asked, not going any further.

My elbow and shoulder twinged but didn’t truly hurt as he pushed against me. It took me a second to mentally go over what he did, before I pushed back, bent my arm back the way it had come, and stood up.

Pat grunted as he tried to resist. “Damn, you shouldn’t have the strength to do that. Literally. The pressure against your joints shouldn’t let you.”

“So soft martial arts aren’t a counter for the breakthrough difference either,” Danny mused. “Or at least not grabs. Pat, you think you could redirect a punch?”

Pat looked at Danny then at me. “If she can walk herself out of an arm lock, doubtful.”

“Try the same one again?” I asked, holding my arm out. I had a thought about that. Pat nodded and grabbed out at me again. Knowing what was coming, I cycled and resisted the action completely.

He grunted at my immovability, put both hands on my wrist, and threw me with a pivot of his hips. I landed, rolled, and came right back up as if it’d been an expected gymnast tumble.

“If you recognize it, you can pretty much negate me, huh?” Pat asked and I nodded. “About the only thing I’ve got is you’re so lightweight that I can easily pick you up and throw you even if I’m not using your own strength to do it. But that doesn’t do me any real good except for a ringout.”

“Do I get to do punching now or something?”

Pat paled just slightly and Danny frowned. “I’m fairly certain you could put your fist through an actual concrete wall without issue. I’m willing to carefully try it, since I believe you said Tony was claiming the fifth breakthrough on the false path when you were on your second.”

“He had a steel barbell. I don’t know if that helps or hinders the idea though. I don’t think it had any sort of energy in it, where if I punch you—it will.”

Danny nodded thoughtfully before grabbing one of the pads and putting it on. He held his hand up away from his body. “Non-dominant hand and ready to fall. Punch the outside edge of the pad if you can and work your way up on how hard you swing. I’m fully willing to just take a spill instead of trying to resist.”

“You who are about to fall, we salute you.” Pat had gotten a water bottle from somewhere and used it to salute Danny.

As I tried to mimic the stance Pat had been using, Danny spoke up. “Another step forward. Back arm down lower, front fist up a little higher. Front fist is for shorter punches and less strong. Back fist is for stronger punches, turn with your hips. Just try not to miss and punch my wrist or something please?” He laughed, but there was a little nervousness to it.

I lightly tapped the pad with my fist a few times before punching just a little bit harder. Danny’s hand rocked back, but he didn’t really move. “Stronger?” I looked at him.

He nodded.

I short punched a few more times, each time trying to hit a little harder, still not cycling. After the fourth one, Danny stumbled back.

“Hold on, hold on. Ow, I’m really starting to feel that, even though you’re not really catching more than a couple of fingers.” He rolled his shoulder and came back up. “Alright, cycling now. Do a few with your back arm, then I want one really good hit. But not cycling your power at the same time, please.”

I could actually sense warm energy flowing off of Danny a bit as he cycled. It actually gave me a bit better of a sense of where his hand was in the pad. I took a few easy aiming punches at the pad to make sure I could actually hit where I was going to try and Danny adjusted his footing. He really was preparing for a fall, left leg back and basically ready to be pushed.

I centered myself and punched. This time I could feel Danny’s energy where I connected and it seemed to actually push back against me in resistance, but my own energy blew right past it as my hand connected with the pad and Danny’s hand inside of it.

His arm flew backwards and Danny spun. Maybe partially on purpose, but also out of control as he fell onto the mats with enough spin he actually landed face first. He lay there for a moment.

“You OK?” I asked worriedly.

Danny lay there for another second before rolling back over, rubbing his shoulder. “Just thankful you don’t have good aim.” He laughed. “I turned my wrist and you didn’t hit my hand full on, so I didn’t take the full hit. I still had to throw myself to not have my arm wrenched out of socket. Glad I didn’t resist or that could have caused some wrist issues.”

“Seriously?” Pat asked.

Danny sat up, still rubbing at his shoulder. “Yeah, you probably really wouldn’t do any good redirecting a punch anywhere she didn’t want it to go. Especially if she was trained.” He then groaned as he stood up. “I’m going to go get a couple of aspirin.”

As he walked off, I turned to Pat. “Hey, question for you.”

He looked at me and nodded.

“How would you define yourself, without actions that define you?” I paraphrased the statement.

“Uhh. Husband, father of one? Warehouse worker? Fisher?” he offered, not sure where the question came from.

“And defining yourself with your power?” I pressed.

“I don’t know. It helps at the warehouse, but that’s using it which is an action. Why?”

“I did something dumb and actually got a comment out of the alien for it. ‘Define yourself or be defined by your actions,’” I explained. “So I’m trying to figure that out. I mean, I can say I was a student, now I’m a researcher. But I don’t see how that works with this power either. Thanks though.”