The room felt like an abyss, vast and endless, with an eerie, almost calming familiarity to Zoey. The air was thick, heavy with a strange energy she couldn’t quite place. As she stepped further inside, she realized Crucible had disappeared. Oddly, she didn’t even need to turn around to confirm it—she just knew.

  It wasn’t because she’d been tracking his aura. Like White-Bullseye, he kept his aura tightly concealed, something she’d already noticed. No, it was his presence. And now that it was gone, the absence felt strange and glaring, like a light suddenly turned off in a room she hadn’t realized was lit.

  Her attention shifted to the one presence she did feel, strong and unguarded, emanating from the center of the abyss. Her eyes locked onto a small table where a figure sat. It was a woman—Zoey could tell from the shape of her figure and the way her aura flowed freely, unhidden and unapologetic.

  The woman wore a flowing, cloth-like robe, simple yet elegant, and a sheer sheet draped over her face, obscuring her features entirely. Despite not being able to see her, Zoey could feel the woman grinning.

  The table was small and unassuming, with a single glass orb resting on top of it, shimmering faintly. The orb reflected the faint, colorful glow of Zoey’s afterimages as she approached. Her movements brought color to the abyss, the shimmering streaks of light trailing behind her in a beautiful, almost hypnotic display.

  The woman tilted her head slightly, the motion deliberate and curious. Though Zoey couldn’t see her face, she felt the weight of the woman’s gaze, intense and fascinated. In a few more strides, Zoey reached the table, her afterimages catching up and dissolving into the abyss as its natural darkness settled once more.

  She stood in silence for a moment, the quiet stretching between them like a thread. Finally, the woman motioned for Zoey to sit.

  Zoey complied, dropping on the ground across from her. Her afterimages mirrored her movements, cascading into her body like colorful plates stacking perfectly into place.

  “Hello, Zoey,” the woman said, her voice calm and soothing.

  Zoey waved lazily.

  “I’m Holiday,” the woman continued, introducing herself with measured grace. “I’m what’s known as a Seer. I help people uncover their Core Attribute as a Veythari. I also evaluate their mental and emotional states to ensure balance.”

  Zoey smirked, leaning forward with her arms crossed. Didn’t they have machines for this kind of thing? she thought, the skepticism clear in her expression. The whole setup—Holiday’s robes, the orb, the cryptic vibe—felt more like theatrics than practicality.

  Still, she figured she’d humor the woman. Maybe this strange little encounter would finally give her some answers. She nodded, her afterimages faintly mimicking the gesture, and waited for Holiday to continue.

  The room seemed to pulse faintly as Holiday began to speak, her calm, deliberate voice filling the abyss.

  “Manifestation,” she said, her tone carrying a sense of weight, “is the art of transforming will and imagination into reality. It uses Mani, the universal energy, as a bridge between thought and existence. Through it, one can—”

  Zoey listened, but her mind started piecing it together in simpler terms. Okay, so basically, I think it, and it happens. Got it.

  “—shape the world around you using five core attributes,” Holiday continued. “Element, Possess, Image Revelation, Selfish Encasement, and Supreme Skills.”

  Five things, Zoey thought. Easy enough.

  “Each attribute serves a specific role. Element allows you to shape—”

  “Elements,” Zoey filled in mentally. Duh.

  “Possess enables you to infuse Mani into—”

  “Things or people, I guess,” she thought, nodding slightly as Holiday’s words flowed over her.

  “Image Revelation gives form to—”

  “Stuff you imagine,” Zoey thought again, her eyes flicking briefly to the glass orb on the table. Like pulling dreams into the real world.

  Holiday paused, her veiled face tilting slightly as if studying Zoey. There was something about the silence that felt weighted, deliberate. Finally, she continued, her voice calm.

  “Selfish Encasement is the enhancement of—”

  “Yourself,” Zoey thought, filling in the explanation before Holiday could finish. Like, boosting your body, mind, or spirit.

  Her afterimages shimmered faintly, swirling around her like they agreed with her internal definition. It was almost reassuring, watching the light ripple as her thoughts snapped into place.

  Holiday’s voice broke through her musings. “It focuses on internal mastery, strengthening your physical, mental, and spiritual abilities. Selfish Encasement acts as a foundation for more advanced techniques, such as creating barriers for example.”

  Zoey raised an eyebrow, her arms crossing as she leaned back. So basically, it’s supercharging yourself, she thought. It was starting to make more sense, but she couldn’t help feeling like the explanation was padded. She wanted to cut through the fluff and just use it.

  Holiday paused again, seemingly waiting to see if Zoey had questions. Zoey just stared back, her afterimages rippling softly behind her, as if daring the Seer to keep going.

  “And Supreme Skills,” Holiday said, her voice slowing slightly, “are rare abilities, unique to each Veythari, that transcend ordinary limits. They represent the pinnacle of—”

  The ultimate moves, Zoey thought. Like something out of a video game.

  “Domains and desires,” Holiday added after a moment, her tone lighter but still careful, “are advanced concepts tied to Selfish Encasement. But those will come later, once you’re ready.”

  Zoey’s thoughts snagged briefly on the word “desires,” but she kept her face neutral. She didn’t need another philosophical dive right now. Instead, she grabbed the notepad and quickly scribbled a note: Got it.

  Sliding it across the table, she leaned back again, watching as Holiday read it. The woman’s aura flickered faintly, and Zoey could almost feel the subtle approval behind her veil.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “You simplify quickly,” Holiday said, her tone tinged with quiet amusement. “That’s not a bad thing, but remember, mastery lies in the details, not just the overview.”

  Zoey shrugged. Details, schmetails, she thought with a smirk. I’ll figure it out as I go.

  “Are you ready to take the first steps?” Holiday asked, her voice probing but calm.

  Zoey paused for a moment, then grabbed the notepad again and scrawled: Nope, but fuck it.

  Holiday tilted her head slightly, the motion almost playful. Zoey felt the weight of her unseen smile.

  “Then let’s begin. We will now learn what your Core Attribute is.”

  Upon hearing the term Core Attribute again, Zoey’s mind immediately began piecing things together. Holiday hadn’t explained it outright—probably part of the theatrics. It felt like another power play, this whole I’ve got the answers, and you’ll have to rely on me act.

  How basic, Zoey thought, her eyes narrowing slightly before she caught herself. She didn’t usually jump to conclusions like that, but something about this whole setup was rubbing her the wrong way. She shook it off, deciding to focus instead on figuring out what a Core Attribute actually was.

  From what Holiday had hinted at, a Core Attribute was the foundation of a Veythari’s powers, a sort of central theme that tied all their abilities back to the five attributes of Manifestation.

  Her mind started breaking it down. So, let’s say you’re conjuring a massive wall of fire that burns hotter than the sun—that’s probably Element. Or you make some creepy marionette that fights for you? Spiritual Image. And what about summoning this weird little pocket dimension where time doesn’t work right? Selfish Encasement for sure. While you may touch on each attribute in small ways, your abilities will always lead back to your core. She smirked to herself slightly enjoying getting one over this Seer.

  Holiday leaned forward slightly, motioning toward the glass orb resting on the table.

  Zoey was about to comply, her fingers hovering near the orb, when an idea struck her. Instead of touching it, she grabbed the notepad and scribbled down a question: Is it possible for someone to have two Attributes?

  She slid the note across the table, leaning back as her afterimages trailed faintly around her in a soft, colorful ripple. Holiday stopped mid-motion, her veiled head tilting slightly as she read the note. For the first time, Zoey thought she detected a flicker of surprise beneath the Seer’s composed exterior.

  After a pause, Holiday nodded slowly. “Yes,” she said, her tone slower than before, more measured. “It is possible. But it’s exceedingly rare. Having two attributes places an immense strain on the body, mind, and soul. Most Veythari who attempt to develop dual cores… don’t survive the process.”

  Zoey tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint, almost challenging smirk. She tapped the notepad with her pen but didn’t write anything else, letting the silence stretch for a moment.

  Holiday’s aura flickered faintly, as though gauging Zoey’s reaction. “Why do you ask?” she finally said.

  Zoey shrugged. She scribbled on the notepad again: Curious. That’s all.

  She wouldn’t mention the door to this woman.

  Holiday read the note and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Curiosity is natural, but let’s focus on identifying your core first. Place your hand on the orb.”

  Zoey glanced at the orb, a flicker of skepticism crossing her face. Her afterimages trailed behind her as she leaned forward, their vibrant glow casting soft ripples in the abyss. Without another word, she placed her hand on the glass orb. The afterimages seemed to fall in line, condensing around her arm like a luminous train waiting for its signal.

  The moment her skin made contact, the abyss erupted into a dazzling golden light. It was blinding, overwhelming, and alive. The once-dark abyss now shimmered with brilliance, the golden radiance pulsing outward in waves, as though the orb itself were breathing.

  Zoey’s eyes widened as the light enveloped her, wrapping around her afterimages like it was weaving them into the fabric of the space itself. The energy surged through her palm and up her arm, an intense but oddly familiar sensation that sent a shiver down her spine.

  Across the table, Holiday remained perfectly still, her veiled face turned toward the eruption of light. Though her features were hidden, her aura flickered with a mixture of intrigue and amusement.

  Zoey’s breath caught as the golden light continued to expand, filling every corner of the abyss. For a brief moment, it felt as though she were standing in the center of something infinite, something far greater than herself.

  And then, just as suddenly as it began, the light started to recede, pulling back toward the orb in soft, glowing tendrils. Zoey felt the energy fade from her hand, leaving a faint, tingling warmth behind.

  The abyss returned to its original stillness, but the golden glow lingered faintly in the air, like an afterimage or cage of its own. Zoey stared at the orb, her fingers still resting on its surface, her mind racing with questions she couldn’t yet put into words.

  Holiday finally spoke, her voice calm but laced with intrigue. “Well,” she said softly, “that was interesting.”

  Zoey blinked, her eyes darting around as the golden glow faded from the abyss. Something felt off. She stretched her fingers experimentally, expecting the familiar shimmer of her afterimages to trail behind. But there was nothing—no vibrant echoes, no light show.

  “What the…?” she muttered, her voice sounding normal for the first time since she’d awakened.

  “So, Manifestation doesn’t interest you?”

  Zoey snapped her head toward Holiday, her eyes narrowing. “What?” she asked, her tone sharp but even. Something was off, this aura didn’t match the woman she just spoke too.

  “You care more about desires,” Holiday continued, tilting her veiled head slightly. A golden hue shining through the cloth where her eyes were. “Because to you, desires are power.”

  The words hit Zoey like a cold splash of water. She opened her mouth to respond, but her thoughts scrambled.

  “What the hell…” she muttered under her breath, glancing at her hands as if expecting them to tell her something. The orb’s light, her missing afterimages, the strange clarity in her voice—it all felt wrong, like she’d stepped into a reality that wasn’t quite hers.

  Holiday’s voice carried a weight that pressed down on Zoey. “Stay true to your desires, Zoey,” she said, her words deliberate and slow. “They’ll take you to the power you crave.”

  Zoey froze, staring at Holiday, her pulse quickening. “Lady, the fuck you on about?” she demanded, but the words came out too fast, her voice snapping back into its lightning-paced rhythm.

  And then they were back—her afterimages. They shimmered around her, bright and vibrant, trailing her movements like streaks of color reclaiming the abyss. The sudden shift hit her like a jolt, and her frustration flared.

  Zoey lunged forward, grabbing Holiday by the front of her robe. “What did you do to me?!” she demanded, her voice snapping out like a whip, lightning fast and sharp. Her afterimages flared wildly, as she clenched the cloth tightly.

  Holiday remained silent, her veiled face tilting slightly as if studying Zoey’s rage. The calmness only fueled Zoey’s frustration, and she raised her free hand, ready to rip the cloth away to see what the Seer was hiding.

  But before she could, a firm hand clamped down on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. The grip wasn’t painful, but it radiated authority, freezing Zoey mid-motion.

  She turned her head, radiating her own menacing aura, swirling around her like flames. But the presence she faced wasn’t fazed.

  Dark orange eyes met hers, cold and unyielding, staring down at her with an indifference that cut through her fury.

  “Take your hand off my Seer,” the woman said, her voice ringing out like iron.

  Zoey hesitated for a moment, her instincts flaring with rebellion. But the weight of those dark orange eyes, and the sheer authority in her voice, gave her pause. Slowly, reluctantly, Zoey let go of Holiday, her hands fell to her sides. She turned fully to face the new arrival, her eyes narrowing.

  “And who the hell are you?” Zoey asked, her voice fast but sharp with defiance.

  The woman’s lips curved into a faint, almost amused smile. “Iyana Portfield,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an edge. “Commander of Arrow-13.”

  “Good for you,” Zoey said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Get your people then, Miss Bigshot.”

  Iyana’s dark orange eyes narrowed, her glare sharp enough to cut steel. The air around her seemed to grow heavier, and for a moment, Zoey felt a chill crawl up her spine.

  But Zoey wasn’t one to back down. She shot Iyana an annoyed glare in return, crossing her arms as her afterimages shimmered in agitation. She was starting to put the pieces together—why this place felt so dull, so off to her.

  But something else also caught her attention, pulling her focus away from her simmering frustration. She glanced back at Holiday, still sitting calmly at the table. Her aura… it was different now.

  Zoey frowned, her eyes narrowing as she studied the Seer. The energy Holiday gave off wasn’t the same as before. It wasn’t the calm, measured aura she felt a few moments ago—the aura now felt sloppy, less focused in comparison, like she’d shifted into a completely different person.