His right hand—still partially aged to seven years old from previous Seed usage, creating grotesque proportion against his two-year-old frame—moved to his chest where the Seed of Infinite Choice rested in conceptual space, dormant potential waiting for activation.
This was the fourth use.
Three times before, he'd burned years of his life to create impossible options, forcing reality to present alternatives when only two choices existed.
Each time had cost him five years of aging on whichever body part he'd designated as payment.
His right hand: seven years old.
His left leg: seven years old.
His torso: seven years old.
All grotesquely oversized compared to his actual two-year-old body, creating the appearance of someone assembled from mismatched parts.
But it had worked.
Every time, it had worked.
The Seed responded to his will—PULSE—ancient artifact recognizing its bearer's desperation and offering its terrible bargain one more time.
[SEED-OF-INFINITE-CHOICE: ACTIVATED]
