The more I absorbed directly, the heavier everything became.
Not all at once. Gradually. Accumulating.
My movements lost their unnatural smoothness. My timing dulled. Mana didn't resist me—but it no longer yielded either. It pressed back, demanding acknowledgment.
The system adjusted parameters aggressively, flagging inefficiency, projecting failure states that had never existed before.
I ignored them.
Others didn't.
"You're different," Rhea said during a break, watching me rewrap my hands. "Not weaker. Just… grounded."
"That's one word for it."
She hesitated. "You don't have to do this alone."
I looked at her.
"Yes," I said. "I do."
She didn't understand yet.
No one did.