A loud gong that reverberated through John’s entire being shook his room. He groaned, the brief amount of sleep he had gotten having been far from satisfying the needs of his growing body.

The gongs became faster and louder, until even John couldn’t ignore it anymore. By now they were causing his entire vision to slightly shake, and his eardrums were close to bursting due to the immense strain placed on them. His eyes ripped open, and he stumbled out of his bed.

The moment his feet hit the ground outside the bed, the gongs stopped. John heaved a relieved sigh, opting not to go into the cuddly warm bed again. It would only cause the gongs to come back.

He ambled towards the washroom, splashing himself awake with a handful of cold water from a bucket next to the toilet. Somewhat awake now, he walked over to one of the small shelves next to his bed. Pulling the same tunic he had worn yesterday out, he slowly clothed himself.

Once he completed his sloppy work, he started stretching his entire body; a habit that had crossed over from his past life.

Satisfied with not having heard any crackling sounds, John licked the rough surface of his teeth with his tongue, only now realizing that he could just as well have created a toothbrush instead of some useless wooden planks. He sighed and opened the door, joining the small stream of children moving towards the classrooms.

Hearing the lively chitchat of the kids around him, he yawned to his heart’s content.

Soon, he found himself in front of an opened set of plain, undecorated wooden doors that had the number 1 inscribed on them with golden letters. Entering the classroom, he nodded towards Ronnie, who was sitting in the front row, and took his place himself on one of the dozen desks in the room. He was in the middle of the middle row, and as such perfectly capable of both sleeping and listening attentively if he wished so.

It didn’t take long until the other students filed in and plopped their butts on their respective chairs. Hushed conversations started around the whole room, and John observed the separate cliques that had already formed after just ten days. If there was one thing children were good at, then it would have to be forming cliques with lightning speed.

Finally, their teacher came in with his trademark smile plastered on his face. The conversations instantly died down as the old man walked to the front of the desk intended for storing his belongings.

He clapped twice and picked a piece of chalk up from the desk, drawing a set of scribbles on the blackboard. “Today you are going to learn how to practice cultivation. I know that you’ve already learned how to create things inside your core and make them produce aether, but that’s only the very first step. Today, I’m going to teach you about real cultivation.”

“First of all would, of course, be Meditation. It is Meditation that enables the most basic feats that normal people could only ever dream of.”

“You Meditate by letting the aether in your core flood into your channels, keeping it to a level where your channels are only slightly stretching from the amount you circulate. How much that takes is dependent on your talent. Be careful to keep the circulations slow, so that it can properly seep into every part of your body.”

The old man snapped his fingers, causing all of the tables in the room to start floating. John felt himself getting roughly pushed out of his chair. He landed on his knees and looked up, seeing what used to be his chair and desk float into the corners of the room, where they landed next to each other, forming a seamless whole.

“Sit down, each of you,” their teacher commanded.

The children complied, and John himself sat down with both legs stretched out.

“Now focus on your core, but don’t enter it. Command the tug you feel to do to your bidding, which in this case is to circulate aether through your whole body.”

John closed his eyes and did as he was told. He searched for the tug, feeling that it still seemed to be at the same “place”. He ordered it to circulate aether into his whole body, and the second he did a small stream of dark grey fog streamed into his parched-up channels. It stormed through them, filling his whole body with a slightly warming feeling.

By the time it reached his core again, about a tenth of it had been used up. John slowed the speed down, observing the constantly lessening amount of returning aether. The more he slowed the circulation speed down, the lesser the amount of aether entering his body and the more his whole body seemed to heat up.

He increased the aether output. The warmth in his whole body increased, enveloping him from the tips of his toes every strand of his hair.

It was comfortable, almost similar to a warm bath. John groaned and increased the output further.

Goosebumps appeared on his whole body. His hairs were standing on their ends, and the all-encompassing warmth had begun to even heat the core of his very being up.

But just as quickly as it had come, the feeling vanished, leaving him behind in the cold reality. His aether had run dry, and the amount trickling out of his core was pitiful compared to his consumption rate. For a moment, John was tempted to do everything he could to make the comfortable feeling continue.

He restrained himself in the last moment. John licked his lips as he looked down at his trembling hands. A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled the trance he had fallen into. It was mortifying how quickly he had lost control.

Decades of living, and it had only amounted to this much? Was his abundant life experience really not enough to withstand that little bit of warmth? This sensation was close to nothing compared to the drugs he had received during his time in the military.

And yet, John couldn’t help but crave for more. It had been fortunate that his aether had run out the moment it did, otherwise he would probably have become even more addicted without even realizing it.

He closed his eyes again, slowly breathing in and out. It seemed like Meditation wasn’t as harmless as it sounded. He would have to be more cautious of losing himself in the pleasure next time he did so.

His eyes snapped open as he looked at the other children, some of which were similarly shivering in pleasure. John felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. The smiles floating at the corner of their lips, the sweat accumulating on their skin; It reminded him of things he didn’t want to think about.

Fortunately or unfortunately, it seemed like he had been the first one to wake up. John glanced at the teacher, but upon seeing the gravely serious expression on his face, he quickly averted his gaze.

Gulping, he tapped into the tug at his mind and checked his aether levels. Taught to him by Ronnie, it was a handy ability for checking on the amount of pure aether you had in your core. It didn’t measure the materials inside it, but Ronnie had assured him that he would eventually be taught that skill as well. Just not by him.

John, feeling that there was no aether left, heaved a somewhat defeated sigh. Although it was in this case fortunate that his aether regeneration was far behind that of the others the fact that the rest of his group was capable of Meditating far longer than him was somewhat depressing.

‘Well, I guess I just had a late start. I’ll catch up soon enough.’

He continued breathing rhythmically until the teacher woke him up with a loud snap of his fingers that reverberated through the whole room just like a certain hateful gong. John’s eyes snapped open, staring at his teacher, who was just as serious as he was when he last peeked at him. It was an odd experience, seeing his normally carefree teacher completely serious for once.

“So, what was it like?” the old man asked with a chill in his voice.

“It was amazing! How come none of the other adults have told us about how great Meditating was?” a skinny redheaded girl next to John shouted in response with reddened cheeks and irregular breathing. A pair of amber eyes expectantly stared at the old man in front of her.

“Yes, Jessica, why didn’t they? Since Meditating is so amazing, don’t you think that we should stay cooped up in our rooms all day and enjoy it as long as possible? After all, we can substitute food and water with aether. So why have you not seen anyone do that yet?”

It didn’t take half a second before a high-pitched voice responded, “Because warriors have to fight, right? If Meditating is already so amazing, then Aether Bursting must be even more awesome.”

The old man put a hand on his shaved chin, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What if it isn’t? What if, at the beginning, you only experience tremendous pain when Aether Bursting?”

Jessica stood up and slammed a fist onto her chest. “I shall fight regardless of whether or not it pains me! As long as people dare to bear the flag of the burning Volcano, I, Jessica, shall not rest in peace!”

John stared up to her. It seemed like, no matter which universe it was, there would always be orphaned children bearing tremendous amounts of hate. Children who would do everything in their power, even sacrificing themselves, in order to destroy the particular faction that had destroyed their homes.

New Pandora had been like this. Alpha Centauri had been like this. At the end of the war the whole galaxy had been like this.

Perhaps this was just another facet of war. One that would never vanish as long as wars were waged.

A strange silence enveloped the room. The old man stared at Jessica unblinkingly, but the girl in question stared back defiantly, a fire burning in the depths of her eyes that didn’t lose out to her hair in its intensity.

“Fine then,” the old man muttered. His gaze wandered to the silent group in front of him. “Who of you shares the same resolve?”

The lean and muscular back of a boy in front of John shot up. “I, Logan, shall not rest until the last of the Cymian fleets have sunk!”

“Lydia shall not rest until every last Ardensian soldier dies a horrible death!” a short girl screamed in the far corner of the room.

“It is either the monsters or me! I, Andrea, will kill all of those feral beasts or die trying!” the tall blonde next to John shouted as soon as the previous girl finished her sentence.

“By Oriana, I, Ronnie, swear to eliminate every bandit gang that roams these lands!”

John’s head turned back and forth as one by one, every child in the room and stood up slammed their fists onto their chests, loudly swearing oaths on the eradication of their enemies.

Before long, it was only John who had remained sitting. All the others had sworn oaths to kill the enemies that had orphaned them.

Most had started sobbing, and some even started openly crying, using their free hands to wipe the snot and tears running down their faces away.

The smile had vanished from the old man’s face once and for all. He gazed upon them with misty eyes, similarly slamming a fist onto his chest. “LISTEN UP KIDS!” he roared.

Their teacher mustered them with a look that could cut through steel. “This old man swears to do his best to teach you! I shall provide you with everything you’ll need to become the cream of the crop! When I’m done with you your name shall strike fear into the hearts of your enemies!”

His fist distanced itself from his chest before once again crashing into it with a boom. “DO YOU SWEAR TO DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO ACHIEVE YOUR GOALS?”

““I DO!”” the combined voice of eleven children shook the room.

“GOOD!” The old man’s fist relaxed and returned to his side. “Now sit down and listen to me.”

The children obediently nodded, sitting down on the floor in unison.

Meanwhile, John blankly stared at a wall, clenching his fists so hard that his nails pierced his palms. The pain finally brought him back, but he wished that it hadn’t when he looked at the solemn children around him.

“Do you remember the sensation Meditation gives you? The pleasure? Forget about it! It will only distract you from concentrating. Remember that Meditation isn’t about Something as simple as letting yourself sink into a pleasurable trance. It is about resisting it, guiding the flow of aether into every nook and cranny of your bodies. Even the smallest overlooked area could spell your doom! It would mean that you could die in the most critical moment!”

The old man’s amber eyes gained a shining quality, seeming to radiate light out of them as he gazed at them feverishly. He waved his hand, causing exactly a dozen drops of liquid to appear in his palm. They each flew into one child’s forehead, slowly sinking into it.

As John felt the cool drop slowly dissolve on his forehead, he reflexively checked his aether reserves. They were rapidly rising, only stopping at ten times his previous capacity. Strangely enough, he hadn’t felt anything entering his channels.

“Now try to Meditate again, but this time you’re going to resist the temptation. Actively guide the aether in your body, move it into even the smallest of your channels. If you can’t even do this, then you might as well give your oaths up now. You wouldn’t be worthy of them.”

John closed his eyes, once again ordering his core to slowly release aether into his body. The grey fog spewed out the instant he did so, and with it came the pleasure.

But this time, he was prepared.

Resisting against pleasure wasn’t like resisting pain. Pain, at least, hurt you enough that it was easy for your mind to know that it was harmful. One’s body had natural mechanisms to cope with excessive pain.

However, the mind had no such mechanisms against the pleasure that Meditating gave him. It wasn’t a bad thing per se, but it would cause him to lose control of the aether flow.

And if losing control meant that not every single part of one’s body was strengthened, then he would have no choice but to grit his teeth and turn this pleasurable affair into a torture.

If he was already going to be sent into a giant medieval meatgrinder of a battlefield, then he may as well come prepared.

As John focused on the channels the aether was flowing through, a fog inside his mind seemed to have been lifted. For the first time, he could feel them in their entirety. It really was like what his teacher had told him it would be like; There were a few sets of extremely big and strong channels flowing through his limps and torso back into his core, with hundreds if not thousands of smaller ones branching off them. These smaller channels led to the rest of his body up this skin and even the roots of his hair.

‘Wait, if even your hair can be strengthened then how the hell are these guys cutting it?’

He pushed the stray thought aside and pushed aether into these smaller channels where it was only scarcely flowing through. A groan escaped his lips as the pleasure intensified even further, but he held on with trembling hands, somehow avoiding the open wounds he had inflicted upon himself.

With every inch the aether advanced, the pleasure intensified. Focusing became harder and harder, until John finally lost track of how much time had passed.

By the time the aether flow subsided, John had been able to feel the entirety of his body. Every nook and cranny, every last fibre and cell had been suffused by aether. No matter how much aether he fed his body, it sucked the aether at a set pace into it that increased with the amount of aether he supplied.

John shivered, opening his eyes again. He slowly moved his arms in front of him, looking at them as if he had never seen them before.

‘So this is what Meditation is supposed to be like. Amazing,’ John thought.

He had never felt his body in such clarity before. Carefully clenching his fists, although he wasn’t able to feel a noticeable increase in strength, the action felt far smoother. His thoughts and reactions now seemed closer to each other. It was, weird as it may sound, as if he were in full control of his body. Like his previous actions were more controlled by his subconscious rather than his conscious mind.

“Good, it seems like you’ve taken the first step. We’ll continue tomorrow since some of you can’t seem to believe the difference between those two methods,” the old man’s voice echoed through the silent room.

Brought back to reality, John slowly stood up and started walking out of the room when the old man gestured for him to stop. He turned around, seeing that the old man was examining him closely.

The other children thanked their teacher and went on their ways, some still with undried tears on their faces. Ronnie stopped at the door and sent him a concerned look, but after seeing the calm expression on John’s face he left the room.

“John, did you ever hate someone so much that you can’t bear to live under the same sky?” the old man asked him.

When John looked at him once again, he seemed to have aged even further. The wrinkles were more pronounced, the hair paler and the vitality in his eyes seemed to have vanished like a sweet lie.

John avoided that pair of eyes, instead looking at the nearest wall. “There’s no need to continue with this farce, old man. I already know what you want to know.”

The boy forced the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth down his throat. “And let me tell you that it is impossible for me to enact revenge on the people that have caused me to end up here. No matter what I do, I won’t be able to take revenge.”

“You never know, boy,” the old man responded slowly. His right hand gripping a necklace around his neck that John had never seen before, he continued, “Not even the Great Protectors know where fate may lead us. Perhaps you will get your chance, but would you be ready to pay the price necessary to achieve it?”

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’ve held you up long enough.” The old man waved his hands, shooing John out of the room.

Later that day, when John was back in his room, he stared at the fresco above him absentmindedly. He stretched a bandaged hand out, reaching for something that wasn’t even there.

“Fate, huh? I’m sure that bitch has nothing but shit in store for me.”