They say growth happens outside your comfort zone. If that’s true, I should be growing by leaps and bounds within this cursed valley, because there is absolutely nothing comfortable about it.

  It's been a week since the fight with the giant weasels taught me a humbling lesson: humans aren't the only ones with gifts. The mother weasel’s stealth was a harsh reminder of my own ignorance. Integrating cores has been its own brand of discomfort. With each one I absorb, the visions grow sharper, the creature’s life flashing before me. It wouldn't be a problem if I didn't have to experience them dying by my hands every time. Despite that, I've pushed through, integrating four red cores, one more orange, and another yellow. The progress is slow. My red core only now shows the faintest tint of orange, with most of the progress coming from those first two yellow cores.

  I sit meditating in my newest camp, east of the weasel den, wrestling with a puzzle. Yashir was specific: when I take a core, I’m only taking its ability to purify Arc, not the purified Arc itself. But I can feel it, ever since I first tried; when I integrate cores, I take everything, leaving not a single drop behind.

  “Why am I different?” I wonder. I stretch, a laugh escaping as a sniffle. I’ve spent so much time alone that I’ve stopped talking to myself out loud, but the internal chatter is relentless.

  “Great, now I'm going to think myself to death.” A genuine smile touches my lips for a moment.

  After packing up, I venture deeper into the valley. The Arc here is oppressively dense, a physical weight that presses on my core like deep water. It’s like trying to breathe in a burning building; the air feels impossibly thick, a pressure building behind my eyes, and my energy channels burn with discomfort. My vision blurs at the edges, and my balance falters. For the first time since I was dropped here, I’m forced to retreat.

  I made camp where the Arc was less dense but it was still a constant strain. I needed a solution.

  “If I can use my Arc to argue with my body, I wonder if?” Lowering into my meditation position, I tried to push my purified Arc to the surface of my skin, imagining it spreading out, a millimeter-thin layer of power coating my every pore. I could feel it leaking off me, a faint, shimmering red haze visible at the edge of my vision. Holding it in that state was like trying to hold water in cupped hands. It was a constant, draining effort that didn't seem to help with the strain on my core.

  I’ve been working on that shimmering coat of Arc for a month now. The heat is horrendous, a humid blanket full of monstrous mosquitos. Yesterday, I watched a swarm of them attack a rabbit. It was only a few minutes before the creature dissolved into shimmering white particles of Arc. The Arc skin helps with the heat, at least. It’s a natural insulator; I can make myself warmer or cooler depending on my focus. But even after a month of practice, the technique only marginally helps me withstand the high-density zone.

  “I need something more,” I think, chewing on some overcooked squirrel meat. The squirrel’s yellow core sits beside my campfire, glowing with a warm, vibrant energy. My eyes fall on it. "I wonder how you survive there with no issues."

  I pick up the glassy core, its gentle light pulsing in my palm. Hopefully it can give me answers.

  I close my eyes and start to absorb the core, but this time with a clear intention. “Show me. Show me how you lived in the dense Arc. Let me understand.” I pleaded as if offering a prayer. The memories then begin their typical cascade. I frantically search for nuts, I feel the terror of a swooping predator, the damp smell of the earth. My mind is lost in the blizzard of simple, instinct-driven chaos before I inevitably fall into a trap and die.

  I groan, the replay of its life giving me nothing. I had no control of the memories, just a silent observer of a foreign life.

  I needed to be more intentional. My gift of understanding has always been a passive byproduct of absorption. My last attempt proves I can’t steer the memories once they start.

  “I have to activate the gift itself, on its own. But how?” I mull over this while massaging my deep and black emblem on my chest. Focusing on my second core reveals nothing, no hidden switch or trigger. I need to get that feeling of activation, and my only starting point is knowing it happens when I absorb a core. I need a fresh one. An experiment.

  So, I set out to hunt. Or rather, to be hunted. Hunting in this forest is a fool's errand unless something aggressive finds you first. Against my better judgment, I smear the leftover squirrel blood all over my arms and clothes. Walking away from camp, I purposefully snap twigs and rustle leaves. "H-hey!" my first words in a month come out like a hoarse whine.

  “Look at me!" I call out, my voice laced with dark humor. "Tasty meal! Come get it while it's hot!"

  The forest remains deceptively peaceful. Then I feel it—not a sound, but a vibration in the Arc around me, a silent snap in the energy field.

  Instinct takes over. I augment my body an instant before something slams into me with the force of a battering ram. The air is violently knocked from my lungs. I can’t see a thing. Panic flares.I channeled all my energy, pushing my arms forward and shoving upward. My hands landed on a thick, slick coat of fur. With a desperate heave, I threw the massive weight off me, shocked by the strength I didn't know I had.

  Scrambling to my feet, I trigger my Arc blade. Its red light cuts through the gloom as I redistribute my energy into a protective barrier across my skin. I still can’t see my attacker. My eyes frantically sweep across the forest around me. That’s when I see it. Not the creature itself, but the leaves on the forest floor. I can see them depress as it circles me, a predator sizing up its meal. A low snarl finally ripples through the air, and then it pounces.

  The light from my blade ripples and bends around a distorted shape in the air—like a heat haze. It’s not truly invisible; it refracts light, not just any light, but light from Arc.

  It lands nimbly, its claws slashing at my barrier. I brace for a heavy impact, but the strike is surprisingly weak, more of a swat than a killing blow. I stagger slightly but correct my footing quick enough and slice the air where it just was. It does this same thing, again and again, before I realize what it’s doing.

  “It’s toying with me.” The thought sends a shiver through me as I keep trying to track its movement. I lose it for a moment only not to see something new, the leaves on the ground disperse into faint, green wisps of energy, and suddenly Its form shimmers into view as if it were always there. It’s a panther-like creature the size of a pickup truck, its fur an inky, shifting gold, and its eyes like black marbles haloed in gold. A thin coating of dense green Arc glows across its fur, a barrier far stronger than my own.

  Seeing it is more terrifying than when it was hidden. Its sheer size and power scream at me, making me feel small and weak. I feel my heart beat in my throat, my body screams at me to run away. I have to stop myself, I know the second I turn around I’m dead. My mind starts racing as I back away. “How do I beat this thing? What is it trying to do? Why isn’t it invisible?”

  As I retreat, I realize with a jolt of fear that it’s herding me back toward the high density zone. It knows I can’t handle it. I realize with a jolt of fear that it’s herding me, pushing me back toward the dense Arc zone. It knows I can’t handle the energy there. It’s trying to lead me to where it holds all the advantages.

  A new resolve hardens within me. I will not let it control this fight. With a blood-curdling scream, I charge.

  The beast rears up, surprised by my audacity. Its claws ignite with a vibrant green Arc far brighter than before as it bats my red blade aside. The sound is like shattering glass. My blade explodes, the dispersed energy stinging my hand and draining my core. Before I can react, a paw glowing with the same green energy slams into my side. The claws rake across my barrier, the screech of green Arc tearing at red energy setting my teeth on edge. I’m sent flying into a boulder. My barrier holds, but it flickers violently, and I feel the punishing drain.

  My mind races. While invisible, its claws glowed, but the attack was weak. Now that it’s visible, its attack shattered my blade. “It’s gift uses energy.” the revelation seemed obvious when I thought about it. The invisibility must be a massive drain, throttling its other abilities to compensate. It only becomes visible when it needs to strike with its full power.

  I see its claws begin to glow green again. My barrier won’t survive another direct hit. As its paw descends, I focus all my remaining red Arc to that single point. Its claws slam into it, my remaining barrier and it shatters, the green energy annihilating my red. The cost is immense; my red core is nearly empty. Though I’m surprised to see the creature recoil back from its attack.

  In that moment of desperation, armed with new insight, I reach deeper. I pull on the dense, potent energy of my orange core. The shift is instantaneous and exhilarating. My Arc blade reforms, no longer a dim red but a blazing, vibrant orange, humming with a warm, more stable power that feels fundamentally different, more efficient. The beast visibly recoils, surprised. Tired and battered, I get back to my feet, my barrier now shimmering with a steady orange light.

  Just as I anticipated, it vanishes again, choosing its weakened, hidden state over a direct confrontation. This is my chance.

  I watch its footsteps in the leaves as it runs, kicking off to my left. Instead of backing away, I lunge forward. As it lands, I pivot to slash, but it’s already airborne again. Its green glowing claws appear out of nowhere, aimed for my throat. I swing my blade up just in time. The clang of orange on green rings out as sparks fly. My blade holds. The dense orange Arc is strong enough, but I can feel the creature’s immense weight behind the blow.

  I parry another strike, but the sheer force throws me off balance. I see its other paw leave the ground as its back legs coil, preparing to propel its full weight into me. There’s no time to regain my footing.

  Banking everything on my theory, I drop into a low crouch and surge forward, a desperate, rising lunge with my blade outstretched. I scream, a raw sound of fear and effort, as I aim not for the creature, but for the heart of the distortion in the air. I feel the satisfying, gruesome crunch of its barrier shattering before my orange blade slices deep with no resistance through flesh and bone.

  In the same instant, its paw connects with the side of my head. My orange barrier flares, absorbing just enough of the impact. The creature’s immense body goes limp, its attack faltering as it collapses on top of me.

  I lie there, pinned just like how this fight began, panting for breath. As its life fades, its gift fails, and the massive, inkyblack-furred body slowly solidifies into view. The stress, the terror, the sheer relief all comes crashing down. “I didn’t die… Holy cow I didn’t die” is the only thought in my mind as I lay under the beast laughing tiredly. I shoved the immense weight off my body, struggled to my feet, and looked down at my kill. A raw, gleeful cheer tore from my throat, echoing through the silent forest. I had won.