Chapter 2 — Awakening
I woke up unable to move.
For several terrifying seconds, I thought the Gravibear had somehow returned from the dead, broken into the manor, and finished what it started.
Then I remembered yesterday.
The training block.
The hunt.
Getting thrown into a tree.
Walking all the way home because Father apparently believed carrying his injured son would irreparably damage my character.
I attempted to sit up.
Every muscle in my body objected.
"...Right."
Definitely Father's fault.
Someone had left the curtains open.
Morning sunlight poured across my room, illuminating the clothes I'd discarded beside the bed and the metal case sitting on my desk.
The Gravibear's Core.
Even sealed behind layers of insulating metal, I couldn't stop looking at it.
Tonight, I would form one of my own.
The thought did absolutely nothing for my nerves.
I forced myself upright.
Bad decision.
Pain ran across my ribs.
"Gods."
Yesterday's healing potion had closed most of the cuts, but alchemy wasn't miraculous. Bruises remained bruises, strained muscles remained strained, and apparently having several hundred kilograms of Awakened bear introduce you to a tree had consequences.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
Tonight.
My Awakening.
I had imagined it for years.
Most children did.
Some dreamed about Flame.
Others wanted Storm because flying sounded impressive.
A boy I'd known when I was younger had desperately wanted Metal because he believed it would let him turn his skin into a sword.
No one had explained why becoming a sword was desirable.
I had always assumed Gravity.
Not because I was guaranteed it.
Father had made very sure I understood that.
But when your family had studied one Pathway for centuries, surrounded you with Gravity-aligned Mana from birth, trained you using Gravity techniques, and filled half the estate library with books on gravitational theory...
expectations formed.
I looked toward the metal case.
Gravity.
It would be convenient.
I stood.
My legs nearly gave out.
"...Extremely convenient."
Mother noticed the limp immediately.
Of course she did.
"Aaron."
Father looked up from his breakfast.
"Hm?"
Mother pointed her fork at me.
"What did you do to him?"
Father glanced toward me.
"He fought a Gravibear."
Mother slowly lowered her fork.
Across the table, Bella stopped drinking her tea.
I froze halfway to my chair.
Apparently Father had neglected to mention that part.
Mother turned toward him.
"You made our son fight an Awakened beast."
"He succeeded."
"He isn't Awakened."
"That was relevant to the exercise."
Mother stared at him.
Father calmly buttered a piece of bread.
Bella looked between them.
Then at me.
Then back at Father.
"You made him fight a Gravibear?"
I pulled out my chair.
"In his defense—"
Mother turned toward me.
I sat down immediately.
There were moments in life when bravery became stupidity.
I had learned to recognize some of them.
Mother's name was Ambrielle Funtin Gravitas.
Most visitors saw a graceful woman with soft features, violet-black hair, and a manner polite enough to make diplomats comfortable.
The family knew better.
Father commanded an entire Great House.
Mother could make him reconsider decisions by raising one eyebrow.
At the moment, both eyebrows were involved.
"You could have been killed."
Father finally looked up.
"I was present."
"That is not the reassuring statement you think it is."
"He needed the experience."
"Before his Awakening?"
"Especially before his Awakening."
Mother opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Something passed between them.
One of those silent conversations parents apparently learned after marriage.
Mother sighed.
Her attention returned to me.
"How badly are you hurt?"
"Not very."
Bella snorted.
I kicked her under the table.
She kicked me back.
Mother's eyes narrowed.
"Define 'not very.'"
"I can walk."
"Poorly," Bella added.
"Betrayal."
"Accuracy."
Mother pressed two fingers against her forehead.
"At least tell me you drank another recovery tonic."
I glanced toward Father.
Father glanced toward me.
Mother closed her eyes.
"Aaron."
"I'll have one brought."
"You have five minutes."
Father gestured toward a servant.
The servant disappeared with impressive speed.
I reached for a piece of bread.
Mother slapped my hand.
"What?"
"Eat the eggs first."
"I'm eighteen."
"Almost."
"That changes tonight."
"It does not change nutrition."
I looked toward Father for support.
He became extremely interested in his tea.
Coward.
Bella smiled into her cup.
I ate the eggs.
For several minutes, breakfast returned to something resembling normal.
That helped.
I hadn't realized how tense I was until then.
Servants moved quietly around the dining room.
Morning light reflected from the white stone walls.
Father read correspondence between bites.
Mother asked Bella about something involving her tutor.
Everything looked exactly like it had yesterday.
Which was strange.
Because by tonight, something fundamental about me would change.
Eventually Mother turned toward me again.
"Are you nervous?"
"No."
Bella immediately said, "Yes."
I glared at her.
Mother smiled.
"There's nothing wrong with being nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
"What element do you want?"
That question was worse.
I looked down at my plate.
"Gravity would be useful."
Bella laughed.
"That wasn't the question."
"It answered the question."
"No. She asked what you want."
I pointed my fork at her.
"You've become very talkative this morning."
She smiled sweetly.
"Maybe I'm enjoying your final hours as a Normie."
"I hope you awaken something embarrassing."
"Like what?"
"Soap."
Bella frowned.
"That's not a Pathway."
"Not with that attitude."
Mother laughed.
Even Father looked amused.
The tension in my chest loosened.
A little.
Mother reached across the table and touched my hand.
"For what it's worth," she said, "whatever appears tonight doesn't decide what kind of person you become."
Father looked up from his papers.
"No."
Mother glanced toward him.
He folded the letter in his hands.
"But it will decide what he needs to learn next."
There it was.
Mother comforted.
Father assigned homework.
Perfect balance.
I smiled.
"I'll be fine."
Mother squeezed my hand once before releasing it.
"I know."
The Gravitas Awakening Hall stood beneath the manor.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
Far beneath it.
I had been inside only twice before.
Once when I was eight and Bella had dared me to sneak downstairs.
We had made it through exactly one locked door before Father found us.
The second time had been during Bella's tenth birthday, when our family historian gave us a tour and spent almost three hours explaining why touching anything would be considered an insult to twelve generations of our ancestors.
Tonight felt different.
No servants followed us.
No guards stood inside.
Only family.
Father walked ahead.
Mother beside him.
Bella and I followed.
The deeper we descended, the colder the stone became.
Mana lamps lined the walls, but there were fewer of them with every level.
Eventually violet crystals replaced them entirely.
Natural ones.
They protruded from the rock in thin veins, glowing softly.
I could feel something here.
Even without a Core.
A pressure.
Not physical.
Something underneath it.
The Deepwell.
House Gravitas had been built above the anomaly centuries ago.
A vast concentration of Gravity-aligned Mana ran beneath the estate, deep enough that no one had ever reached its center.
Our ancestors had built around it.
Studied it.
Profited from it.
Probably argued over it.
Most Gravitas traditions eventually led back to the Deepwell.
Father stopped before a pair of black doors.
Unlike the ornate entrances upstairs, these were plain.
No gold.
No carved animals.
No heroic ancestors.
Only three silver rings surrounding a black sphere.
The emblem of our House.
Beneath it were words carved directly into the stone.
WE CARRY WHAT MUST BE CARRIED.
Father pressed his palm against the center of the door.
The rings glowed.
The doors opened.
A circular chamber waited beyond.
My stomach tightened.
The Awakening Hall was larger than I remembered.
White stone formed the walls, but the floor was completely black.
A circular platform occupied the center.
Around it were nine stone pillars covered in old inscriptions.
No chairs.
No altar.
No audience gallery.
Just the platform.
That surprised me.
For something that determined the magical direction of a person's entire life, I had expected more ceremony.
Father noticed me looking around.
"Disappointed?"
"A little."
"Why?"
"I expected fire."
Mother smiled.
"During an Awakening?"
"Decorative fire."
"You're forming a Mana Core, not getting married."
"I've seen weddings with less preparation than this."
Bella walked past me.
"Maybe the room senses when someone important is Awakening."
I stared at her.
She smiled.
I was going to miss her.
Unfortunately.
Father stepped onto the central platform.
"Come here."
I followed.
Up close, I could see thousands of tiny lines carved into the black stone.
Not decorative.
Runes.
They formed circles within circles, spreading outward from a depression at the center.
Father pointed.
"Stand there."
I did.
The moment both feet entered the inner circle, something changed.
The pressure I'd felt from the Deepwell sharpened.
My skin tingled.
I looked down.
"That's uncomfortable."
"It hasn't started."
"...Good."
Father almost smiled.
Almost.
Mother and Bella remained outside the outermost ring.
Father stood opposite me.
For the first time that evening, his expression became completely serious.
"Astri."
I straightened.
"You know the theory."
I nodded.
"Tell me."
I'd heard this lesson dozens of times.
Still, I answered.
"Mana exists throughout the environment. Human bodies naturally circulate tiny amounts of it, but without a Core we can't store or properly command it."
"And Awakening?"
"I sense Mana deliberately. Draw it through the body. Circulate it. Accumulate enough until it condenses."
"Into?"
"An Inherent Core."
Father nodded.
"What determines the Pathway?"
Here was the part no one could completely explain.
"My body."
"More precisely."
"My natural affinity. Mana lattice. Heritage. Environment. Development."
"Choice?"
"No."
"Desire?"
"No."
"Family expectation?"
I hesitated.
"No."
His gaze remained fixed on mine.
"Good."
There was a reason he asked that last one.
I knew it.
He knew I knew it.
Gravity was the Gravitas Pathway.
But tonight, I wasn't supposed to force anything.
Father stepped backward.
"One more thing."
"What?"
"Do not chase the Deepwell."
I frowned.
"You'll feel Gravity Mana more strongly than anything else in this room. That's intentional. It makes Awakening easier for most members of our House."
"So why not use it?"
"Use what your body accepts."
He tapped two fingers against his chest.
"Not what your name tells you to accept."
Mother smiled faintly from beyond the ring.
I took a breath.
"Understood."
Father left the platform.
The moment his foot crossed the outer inscription, the runes ignited.
Violet light raced across the floor.
One ring.
Then another.
Then another.
The chamber hummed.
I felt it immediately.
Mana.
There was no better word for it.
I had spent my entire life surrounded by something I had never truly sensed.
Now it was everywhere.
A vast ocean pressed against the edge of my awareness.
My breath caught.
Tiny currents moved through the air.
Through the walls.
Through the ground.
Through me.
I closed my eyes.
The sensation became stronger.
Mana wasn't warm.
Or cold.
Heavy.
Or light.
It wasn't any one physical sensation.
It felt more like discovering another sense and realizing you'd somehow lived eighteen years without noticing it was missing.
I inhaled slowly.
Draw it inward.
That was the first step.
Easy in theory.
I reached for the Mana around me.
Nothing happened.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
My brow furrowed.
Don't force it.
Fine.
I relaxed my shoulders.
Breathed.
Reached again.
Something entered.
Barely.
A thin current passed through my skin.
My entire body tingled.
There.
I followed it.
More came.
Slowly.
A thread at first.
Then several.
Mana entered through my arms, chest, legs, even with each breath.
I circulated it.
Down.
Across.
Around.
The exact path varied between individuals.
That was why instructors taught sensation rather than memorized circulation.
Mana wanted to move.
My job was not to bully it.
Only guide it.
More.
The chamber faded from my awareness.
My family disappeared.
There was only the flow.
Mana entered.
Circulated.
Gathered.
Some escaped.
I corrected.
More entered.
Again.
Again.
Time became difficult to measure.
At some point my breathing quickened.
Pressure built inside my chest.
Not pain.
Density.
The Mana gathered somewhere below my sternum.
Loose.
Unstable.
I pulled more.
The pressure increased.
Still no Core.
More.
Nothing.
I drew harder.
The surrounding Mana responded.
Too much.
My body tightened.
Something slipped.
Pain shot through my chest.
My concentration shattered.
The gathered Mana dispersed.
I gasped.
My eyes opened.
The runes still glowed.
Father stood beyond them.
His expression had not changed.
"Again," he said.
Of course.
I breathed.
Closed my eyes.
Started over.
Mana.
Circulation.
Accumulation.
This time slower.
The pressure rebuilt.
I tried compressing it.
The Mana resisted.
I forced harder.
It slipped apart.
Again.
Third attempt.
Failure.
Fourth.
Failure.
Fifth.
My shirt clung to my back with sweat.
The room suddenly felt much hotter.
I opened my eyes.
"How long?"
Bella glanced toward the clock mounted near the door.
Mother stopped her before she answered.
Father said, "Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Because Awakening shouldn't take this long.
I didn't say it.
He could read it anyway.
Father crossed his arms.
"Are you competing with someone?"
"No."
"Then continue."
I closed my eyes again.
Mana entered.
Circulated.
Gathered.
Failed.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Frustration crawled into every thought.
I knew this.
I'd studied this.
I'd trained my body specifically for this.
Why wasn't it—
I stopped.
There it was.
The mistake.
I had been thinking exactly like I had that morning.
Pull harder.
Add more.
Force movement.
Except yesterday, strength hadn't moved the block.
Changing the angle had.
I let the gathered Mana disperse.
Then did nothing.
For several breaths, I simply felt.
Mana moved through the room.
Most of it carried something distinct.
A pull.
Not downward.
Everywhere.
Tiny relationships stretched between every piece of matter around me.
Stone toward stone.
My body toward the ground.
The walls toward the earth.
The Deepwell beneath everything.
Gravity Mana.
So dense that I'd mistaken it for Mana itself.
But underneath it—
other currents existed.
Tiny.
Faint.
Neutral Mana.
Traces from air.
Plants somewhere above us.
Heat.
Light.
People.
My family.
I had been trying to gather everything.
No.
Worse.
I had been trying to make it behave the way the textbook described.
But my body kept rejecting part of what I pulled.
Why?
I changed the question.
What was it accepting?
I drew another current inward.
Slowly.
This time I didn't choose it.
I let my body choose.
Some Mana passed through.
Some lingered.
Some disappeared immediately.
And one particular current—
stayed.
It felt familiar.
Heavy.
But not oppressive.
I followed it.
Gravity.
My heart beat faster.
Don't rush.
I drew another thread of Gravity Mana.
Then another.
They settled beneath my sternum.
This time I didn't compress them.
I allowed them to gather.
Layer by layer.
A shape began to form.
Not because I forced it into one.
Because the Mana seemed to know where it belonged.
My breathing slowed.
More.
The Deepwell felt impossibly vast beneath me.
I could have reached deeper.
Pulled harder.
Taken more.
I didn't.
Only what I could hold.
Only what stayed.
The pressure condensed.
The loose currents began orbiting a central point.
Faster.
Closer.
Then—
everything stopped.
For a fraction of a second, the entire world became perfectly still.
My heartbeat.
My breath.
The Mana.
Even my thoughts.
Then something formed inside me.
A sphere.
Tiny.
Dense.
Mine.
My eyes opened.
Every rune in the chamber flashed violet.
A pulse burst outward.
My clothes snapped against my skin.
Bella stumbled backward.
Mother caught her.
The stone beneath my feet groaned.
Then—
silence.
I stared at my hands.
Nothing looked different.
"Did it work?"
Bella's jaw dropped.
Mother laughed.
Father closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, there was something in his expression I rarely saw.
Relief.
"Yes."
My mouth slowly opened into a grin.
"Gravity?"
Father nodded.
"Gravity."
I laughed.
I couldn't help it.
After all the uncertainty, all the lectures about expectation, all the possibilities—
Gravity.
I had awakened Gravity.
House Gravitas.
My father's Pathway.
The Pathway I'd spent my entire life preparing for.
"Ha."
I looked down at my hands again.
"Of course."
Bella recovered.
"Oh, shut up."
"You sound jealous."
"I haven't even Awakened yet."
"Exactly. Still a Normie."
"You were one ten seconds ago!"
"Ancient history."
Mother covered her mouth, laughing.
Even Father gave up trying to hide his smile.
For several seconds, nothing else mattered.
I had done it.
I was Awakened.
Then Father said:
"Now we find out what you actually awakened."
I stopped smiling.
"...You just said Gravity."
"Your Pathway."
He stepped onto the platform.
"Not your Expression."
Right.
Inherent Expression.
Every Inherent Core possessed one.
A natural tendency.
An individual way of interacting with the Pathway.
Gravity was the language.
My Expression would determine which words came most easily.
Father held out his hand.
"Can you feel the Core?"
I closed my eyes.
Immediately.
It sat beneath my sternum like a tiny star.
Violet Mana moved around it.
"Yes."
"Draw from it."
I did.
That was—
strange.
The Mana responded far more easily than external Mana had.
Of course it did.
It was mine.
Power moved through my body.
My skin prickled.
The room sharpened.
I opened my eyes.
Father pointed toward a small stone block beside the platform.
"Move it."
I stared at the block.
"How?"
"That's what we're determining."
Helpful.
I extended my hand.
Gravity.
Move.
Nothing happened.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
Bella leaned slightly toward Mother.
"Is pointing necessary?"
"I can hear you."
"Just curious."
I lowered my hand.
Fine.
What had the Gravibear done?
It created pressure.
Pulled fruit.
Changed local gravity.
I focused on the stone.
Heavier.
Nothing.
Lighter.
Nothing.
Come toward me.
Nothing.
Five minutes later—
still nothing.
My earlier excitement began leaking away.
Father watched silently.
I clenched my jaw.
"Maybe I need more Mana."
"No."
"Maybe the Core is too new."
"Possible."
"But?"
"But your Mana is responding."
He walked closer.
"Stop trying to copy another Gravity user."
I frowned.
"What else am I supposed to do?"
"What feels natural?"
Nothing.
That was the problem.
I could feel Gravity Mana flowing through my body.
I simply couldn't make it leave.
Wait.
My eyes narrowed.
Couldn't make it leave.
I stopped focusing on the stone.
Instead, I focused on myself.
The Mana shifted instantly.
I froze.
Something changed.
Small.
Barely noticeable.
But definite.
My boots pressed harder against the floor.
I looked down.
Father noticed.
"Again."
I concentrated.
More Mana flowed from the Core.
My body became heavier.
Not tired.
Heavy.
The soles of my boots compressed against the stone.
My knees bent.
I released the Mana.
The sensation disappeared.
Silence.
I stared at Father.
He stared at me.
Bella spoke first.
"You made yourself heavier."
"...Yes."
Her face twisted.
"That's it?"
"Bella," Mother said.
"What? He spent all evening trying to Awaken and his special ability is being harder to carry?"
I looked at her.
"I'm going to sit on you."
She immediately stopped smiling.
Father ignored us.
"Make yourself lighter."
I tried.
The Mana responded.
My body changed again.
This time the pressure beneath my feet weakened.
I lifted one leg.
Nearly lost my balance.
"Whoa."
I jumped.
That was a mistake.
I rose far higher than expected.
Not dramatically.
Maybe twice a normal jump.
But enough that I flailed like an idiot before landing badly.
Bella burst out laughing.
I straightened.
"I intended that."
"No, you didn't."
"Prove it."
Father rubbed his chin.
"Again."
I experimented.
Heavier.
Lighter.
Normal.
The amount I could change was limited.
Very limited.
At maximum output, I could perhaps double my effective weight.
At minimum, reduce it by a little less than half.
No crushing fields.
No pulling distant objects.
No launching rocks.
No manipulating the environment.
Only myself.
After several minutes, Father said the words I had already realized.
"Self-directed."
I exhaled.
"Seems like it."
Mother stepped closer.
"Is that bad?"
"No," Father said immediately.
I appreciated how quickly he answered.
But I could hear the rest.
It wasn't necessarily good either.
Gravity Expressions varied.
Some members of House Gravitas could affect broad areas from the moment they Awakened.
Others possessed incredible precision.
Some produced powerful attraction.
Some manipulated weight.
Some altered vectors.
Mine apparently affected exactly one target.
Me.
Bella attempted optimism.
"You can win every drinking contest."
I stared at her.
"How?"
She shrugged.
"Heavy people probably handle alcohol better."
"That's not how alcohol works."
"You don't know."
"I do."
Father ignored us again.
"The Expression isn't necessarily limited to weight."
That caught my attention.
"What do you mean?"
"What exactly are you changing?"
"My weight."
"Are you?"
I frowned.
I had just become heavier.
Obviously—
Then Father's morning lesson came back.
Why?
I looked down at my feet.
Weight.
Gravity.
Mass.
Not the same thing.
"What if I'm changing the gravitational force acting on my body?"
Father nodded once.
"Possible."
"Instead of actually changing my mass."
"Possible."
"How do we test it?"
His mouth moved.
This time he definitely smiled.
"There you are."
I blinked.
"What?"
"Ten minutes ago you wanted an impressive ability."
"I still want an impressive ability."
"And now?"
I looked at my hands.
The disappointment hadn't disappeared.
Not completely.
I had imagined more.
A lot more.
Father could alter gravity several meters away without visible effort.
The Gravibear had almost crushed me against the ground.
Our family histories described ancestors who could drag cavalry from their horses and collapse fortress gates.
I could make myself slightly inconvenient to lift.
But—
what exactly was I changing?
Only downward weight?
Could I alter direction?
Would reducing gravitational force let me fall slower?
Could I increase it during a strike?
Did the effect apply uniformly throughout my body?
Did clothing count?
Weapons?
Objects I carried?
If I jumped while heavy and became light halfway through—
My disappointment began losing ground to something else.
Questions.
Lots of them.
Father saw it happen.
"Don't stay up all night testing."
"I wasn't going to."
Bella laughed.
Mother said, "He absolutely was."
"I have self-control."
Three people stared at me.
I reconsidered.
"Occasionally."
Father stepped off the platform.
"We'll begin proper testing tomorrow."
I followed.
Then remembered something.
"Wait."
The metal case.
The Gravibear Core was upstairs.
Same Pathway.
Different Expression.
A beast capable of projecting gravitational fields.
My pulse quickened.
"Father."
He already knew what I was thinking.
"No."
"I didn't ask anything."
"You don't have to."
"But it's Gravity."
"Yes."
"My Core is Gravity."
"Yes."
"So compatibility should be—"
"High."
I stopped.
That wasn't the answer I expected.
Father turned toward me.
"But you're not absorbing it tonight."
"Why?"
"Because you've possessed a Core for approximately twenty minutes."
"Twenty very successful minutes."
"Astri."
"Fine."
We started toward the doors.
I made it three steps before stopping again.
Something felt strange.
Not painful.
A tug.
I turned.
The Awakening platform was behind me.
Nothing there.
Then I realized the sensation wasn't coming from the room.
It was above us.
Far above us.
From the manor.
I frowned.
My Core pulsed.
Once.
Somewhere upstairs—
something answered.
A heavier pulse.
Violet.
Dense.
Familiar.
The Gravibear Core.
Father stopped.
His expression changed.
"Do you feel that?"
I looked at him.
"You feel it too?"
"No."
That was not the answer I wanted.
Mother's smile faded.
Bella looked between us.
Father walked back toward me.
"What do you feel?"
I tried to describe it.
"A pull."
"From where?"
"Upstairs."
"The External Core?"
"I think so."
Father's eyes narrowed.
I concentrated.
The sensation strengthened.
My new Core pulsed.
The Gravibear Core seemed to answer.
Back.
Forth.
Two rhythms.
Not synchronized.
But aware of each other.
Father placed two fingers against the center of my chest.
His Mana entered carefully.
I almost flinched.
He closed his eyes.
Several seconds passed.
Then he withdrew his hand.
"What?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"Father."
"Your Core is stable."
"That sounds good."
"It is."
"But?"
He looked toward the ceiling.
Toward the Gravibear Core somewhere several floors above us.
"External Cores don't normally resonate with an Inherent Core from that distance."
My excitement returned instantly.
"So mine is special."
Father looked at me.
"No."
The excitement died.
"Could've let me have that for five seconds."
"It means we don't understand what's happening."
I considered that.
Then smiled.
Father sighed.
"Why are you smiling?"
Because something unknown was happening inside my brand-new magical organ.
Which, objectively, was concerning.
But—
"We can figure it out."
Father stared at me for several seconds.
Then gave a quiet laugh.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No. What?"
He started toward the doors.
"Get some sleep."
"You're avoiding the question."
"Tomorrow we'll test your Expression."
"And the resonance?"
"Afterward."
"And the Gravibear Core?"
"Afterward."
"Could I at least see it tonight?"
"No."
"Touch it?"
"No."
"Stand nearby?"
"No."
"What if—"
"No."
The black doors opened.
Bella walked past me.
"I think he's saying no."
"Thank you, Bella."
"Happy to help."
Mother followed, shaking her head.
I took one last look at the Awakening platform.
A few hours earlier, I had walked into the chamber wondering what Pathway would define the rest of my life.
Now I had an answer.
Gravity.
Just not the version I had expected.
I placed a hand over my chest.
My Core pulsed quietly beneath it.
Small.
New.
Limited.
Mine.
Then, faintly—
from somewhere high above—
the Gravibear Core seemed to answer again.
I smiled.
Tomorrow suddenly couldn't come quickly enough.