— Rei POV —
Two days passed.
Not long enough to change the cave itself, but enough to make repetition useful instead of inefficient. What had felt inconsistent before had started to settle into something I could approach with intent rather than guesswork, and that alone made a difference.
The sensation behind the magic was still unstable, but no longer unfamiliar. I didn't have to wait for it to appear anymore. I could reach for it.
I raised my hand slightly, focusing on the same point I had been using, aligning my thoughts instead of forcing the outcome. The response came quicker this time. A faint light formed near my palm, flickering at first, but it held together longer than before.
Not strong, not refined, but stable enough to exist without collapsing immediately.
I let it fade instead of pushing it further. For now, consistency mattered more than output. Repeating something imperfect but controlled was more useful than forcing something I couldn't maintain.
"…Better."
The word came quietly, more observation than satisfaction.
Movement followed the same pattern. The wings responded faster now, no longer lagging behind my intent as much as they had at the beginning. They still felt unfamiliar, but no longer disconnected.
I stepped forward and pushed off lightly.
The lift was brief, just enough to clear the ground before I settled back down. The landing was controlled, the impact reduced compared to before.
Still inefficient.
But usable.
That was enough.
I shifted my attention toward the slime.
He hadn't left.
The distance between us changed from time to time, sometimes closer, sometimes further, but he never disappeared completely. That alone suggested intent, even if it wasn't clear what that intent was.
The difference from before was in the connection.
It came easier now.
Not fully stable, not precise, but no longer something that required full concentration just to initiate. When I focused, it responded.
I let it form.
"…You're still here."
The thought carried outward, structured enough to hold shape.
This time, the response came faster.
"…Yeah. I am."
I paused slightly, attention sharpening. The meaning was clearer than before, holding together long enough to resemble actual speech instead of fragments.
I turned toward him fully.
"…You've improved."
There was a brief pause before he answered.
"…You too, I think."
I studied him for a moment. The response didn't feel accidental. It held structure, even if it wasn't perfect.
"…You can maintain it now."
"Barely," he replied. "Still kinda weird, though."
I let the connection settle instead of pushing it further. Compared to two days ago, the difference was clear. Communication wasn't just possible now—it was usable.
"…You're not attacking."
I said it plainly.
There was no reason to phrase it differently.
He paused again.
"…No. I wasn't planning to."
The hesitation wasn't uncertainty.
It was clarification.
I held his response for a moment before continuing.
"…Then you're not a threat."
"Uh… I'll take that as a good thing."
There was a slight shift in the connection, something lighter this time, less rigid than before. I didn't comment on it.
Instead, I continued.
"…Two days ago, you affected something you shouldn't have been able to."
He went quiet.
"…You mean the dragon?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
"…I didn't kill it."
I watched him without reacting.
"…It disappeared."
"Yeah, but not like that," he said quickly. "It's… complicated."
"…Explain."
"I stored it."
I didn't answer immediately. The words didn't align with what I had seen.
"…That doesn't match."
"Yeah, I figured it wouldn't," he admitted. "It's not gone. It's just… inside me."
I stayed silent for a moment longer, processing that.
It still didn't make sense.
But—
It explained one thing.
"…Its presence remains."
"Right. Exactly. See? You get it."
Not completely.
But enough.
I let the connection settle again instead of forcing further clarification. Full understanding wasn't necessary yet.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, just unfilled. For a moment, I let the connection remain idle instead of pushing it forward again.
My attention shifted inward.
Two days had been enough to establish patterns, not just in movement or control, but in absence. There were things I hadn't needed to account for—things that should have been noticeable by now, yet weren't.
I hadn't felt hunger.
Not once.
"…Something's missing."
"Hm?"
"…I haven't needed to eat."
There was a short pause before he answered.
"…Oh. Yeah, same."
That response came too easily.
I turned slightly toward him, narrowing my focus.
"…You noticed it immediately."
"Pretty much. I thought about it at first, but then… nothing. No hunger, no thirst, nothing like that."
I considered that.
It matched what I had experienced.
"…So it's not temporary."
"Doesn't seem like it."
I let that settle.
That removed a variable.
Not needing to sustain the body simplified things, but it also confirmed something else.
"…This isn't a human body."
"Yeah… I figured that part out already."
I didn't react to the tone.
"…It changes how survival works."
"Honestly, I'm not complaining. No food, no water… that's actually kinda convenient."
Convenient.
I didn't disagree.
But that wasn't the part that mattered.
"…It means the conditions for failure are different."
There was a brief pause on his side.
"…That's a very serious way to look at it."
"It's accurate."
"Yeah… I guess it is."
The connection quieted again, not breaking, just settling into something more stable than before.
I shifted my stance slightly, letting my focus return outward.
Two days.
Enough to confirm control.
Enough to confirm limitations.
Enough to define what had changed.
"…Then there's no immediate constraint."
"Huh?"
"…No requirement for resources. No external dependency."
"Oh. Yeah… when you say it like that, it sounds kinda broken."
I didn't respond.
Because it was.
But that didn't make it simple.
I looked at him again, this time without shifting away.
"…Then survival depends on something else."
"Like what?"
"…Understanding."
He didn't answer immediately.
"…Yeah," he said after a moment. "That sounds about right."
That was enough.
The conversation didn't need to continue further.
For now, the variables were clear.
And that—
Was all I needed.