The underground training hall was quiet.
Too quiet.
Dense air pressed lightly against my skin. The layered formations hummed faintly inside the walls—containment, reinforcement, isolation.
Good.
If I was going to dissect my own mind, I preferred a bit of silence.
I sat cross-legged in the center of the hall and closed my eyes.
"…Alright," I murmured. "Let's fix this problem."
Nova's presence sharpened slightly.
[Begin by observing.]
"No helpful insults today?"
[Later.]
Fair.
I inhaled slowly and let my awareness flow as Nova directed—it went not toward my soul space this time, but toward the surface layer.
The layer between mind and soul.
Where thoughts formed before words.
Where emotions flickered before being named.
At first, I sensed nothing.
Then—
There it was.
A sea-like world.
In cultivation terms—
My Sea of Consciousness.
And within it flowed my mental waves, the currents of that sea.
And what I saw next nearly made me laugh.
Nova's mental waves were calm.
Not silent.
Not empty.
Calm.
They flowed like a narrow stream of clear water into a single gate—our telepathic connection. Precise. Contained. Controlled.
Every ripple directed.
Every current intentional.
Nothing wasted.
Nothing spilled.
Mine—
Mine were a disaster.
A river in flood season.
Crashing toward the same gate while spilling wildly at the edges. Spray. Mist. Turbulence. Emotional debris flung outward in every direction.
"…That's embarrassing," I muttered.
[It is also inefficient.]
"I wasn't asking for a review."
[You are receiving one anyway.]
I focused harder.
The core river—the main flow toward Nova—I could not control.
Whenever I tried, it surged harder.
Like trying to grab a torrent with bare hands.
But the spillover—
The edges—
The leaking spray that scattered outward—
That I could touch.
They didn't look like anything at first. But Nova translated them for me—first into something like electrical currents, then into graph-like structures, which finally condensed into readable information.
Something I could falsify.
I focused.
The texture of the information sharpened.
The droplets weren't noise.
They carried content.
Fragments of emotion.
Subconscious intent.
Curiosity.
Annoyance.
Residual irritation toward Patricia.
Strategic projections.
Speculation about the Academy.
And worst of all—
Nova's presence.
Clear.
Distinct.
Traceable.
"…So that's what people could read," I said quietly.
[Correct.]
I concentrated.
Instead of trying to dam the river—
I altered the spray.
The first attempt was crude.
I replaced irritation with boredom.
Curiosity with mild distraction.
Strategic projections with idle thoughts about dinner.
The leaking spray shifted.
The turbulence didn't decrease.
But the content changed.
Nova remained silent for several seconds.
[…You altered interpretation successfully.]
I exhaled slowly.
"So I can't stop the river," I said. "But I can change what splashes out."
[Temporarily.]
"Temporarily is good enough for now."
Nova's tone shifted.
[No.]
I opened one eye.
"No?"
[Your premise is flawed.]
I frowned.
"In what way?"
[Your mental waves leaking externally at all is abnormal.]
"…What?"
[Your mind is directly connected to your soul.]
The air in the hall seemed to grow heavier as Nova continued.
[Your soulforce naturally protects the contents of the mind.]
[Thoughts, memories, intentions—these are internal constructs.]
[When mental waves spill outward uncontrollably, it implies instability.]
I blinked.
"…Instability?"
[Or external interference.]
That landed harder than expected.
"So even if I falsify what leaks…"
[The act of leaking itself remains an anomaly.]
I stared again at the chaotic river.
The spray.
The mist.
The uncontrolled turbulence.
"…Then what's the point of this training?" I asked quietly.
For a moment, Nova did not answer.
Then—
[The point is that you now possess enough information to search for a solution.]
I frowned.
"That's not helpful."
[It is accurate.]
I exhaled slowly.
If the leaking itself was the problem—
Then falsifying the content wasn't enough.
The waves would still be visible.
If something was spilling—
The solution wasn't to muddy the water.
It was to—
"…Cover it," I murmured.
Silence.
My thoughts accelerated.
If mental waves escaping were abnormal—
Then they needed camouflage.
Something that made the leakage appear intentional.
Natural.
Explainable.
My Spirit Intuition flared.
"…Aura," I said abruptly.
Nova did not react.
"If someone senses external fluctuations," I continued, "and they detect emotional turbulence—"
"They'll assume it's aura training."
Aura required emotion.
Focus.
Mental exertion.
Fluctuating aura naturally carried emotional traces.
Unstable aura was common among early-stage practitioners.
Especially those practicing Flow.
"…If my mental waves are wrapped inside aura fluctuations," I said slowly, "then the leakage looks like unstable aura."
Nova's mental stream flickered faintly.
[…You are approaching the correct direction.]
I opened both eyes.
"So instead of stopping the river," I said, "I use my aura to wrap the spilling content."
The spray no longer dissipates into open air.
It merges with the flowing aura.
Mental waves become emotional fluctuations within aura output.
Nova sounded almost amused.
[You are not entirely a muscle brain after all.]
I snorted.
"High praise."
[Now, even if someone senses your mental waves within the aura, they will not detect me.]
[But do not celebrate prematurely.]
Of course.
"This won't work forever," Nova added calmly.
"Why not?"
Nova's tone sharpened.
[Kid… do you really think the saying that elders can judge a person's true character with a single glance is a joke?]
The training hall suddenly didn't feel quite so quiet anymore.