Kale sat cross-legged in his cramped living quarters, the faint hum of activity from outside barely registering in his mind. His thoughts were consumed by possibilities—exciting, endless possibilities. Perception and senses were adaptable tools. What if he could combine his anchor with his unique active seeking state? Could it further enhance his adaptability?
The idea sent a thrill through him, excitement sparking in his eyes like embers catching flame. He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on his knees as he mulled over the concept. If he could master this combination, he might unlock something no other seeker had achieved—a seamless integration of perception and knowledge, tailored uniquely to him.
But first, he needed to test something.
All seekers were taught to close their eyes when accessing the Ocean of Knowledge. Absolute focus was key; distractions only led to failure or worse, getting lost in its boundless expanse. Yet Kale wasn't like other seekers. His connection to the Ocean felt… different. And now, he wanted to push that difference further.
Closing his eyes, Kale lightly tugged at the familiar pull within him—the sensation of reaching for the Ocean. At first, nothing happened. The silence behind his eyelids stretched endlessly, unbroken by golden threads or motes of light. For a moment, doubt crept into his mind. Had he imagined his uniqueness? Was he just another ordinary seeker after all?
Then, slowly, tiny pinpricks of light began to appear. Motes floated lazily in the darkness, glowing faintly like fireflies dancing in the night. They swirled around him, drawn to his presence as though magnetized. More and more appeared, until they filled his "vision" completely—though calling it vision seemed odd since his eyes remained shut.
The motes grew brighter, their glow intensifying until it became almost blinding. Kale flinched instinctively, shielding his face even though there was nothing physical to block. When the brightness faded, he found himself standing once again amidst the vast expanse of the Ocean of Knowledge. Golden streams weaved through the air, threads stretched infinitely in every direction, and motes danced like stars scattered across the cosmos.
It worked.
Not only had he accessed the Ocean without fully immersing himself in the traditional method, but he'd done so faster than any normal seeker ever could. The realization hit him like a wave, leaving him breathless.
Kale let out a shaky exhale, realizing only then that he'd been holding his breath. He sighed deeply, allowing the weight of what he'd just accomplished to settle over him.
But amidst the triumph, questions lingered in his mind.
What made him so different? Why could he access the Ocean in ways others couldn't? Was it because of his active seeking state? Or was there something deeper—something about him—that set him apart from everyone else?
He stared into the shimmering expanse before him, searching for answers that weren't there. The Ocean offered guidance, but not explanations. It gave fragments of knowledge, not truths about identity or purpose.
Still, Kale couldn't shake the growing curiosity about his circumstances. Something was off—not wrong, necessarily, but unusual. From the way the threads responded to him, to how quickly he adapted insights, to the strange headaches that accompanied his dives into the Ocean—it all pointed to something beyond the norm.
For now, though, those questions would have to wait.
Kale focused instead on the task at hand: solidifying his anchor. Perception was his foundation, and he intended to build upon it relentlessly. With each dive into the Ocean, he would refine his senses, sharpen his instincts, and strengthen his connection to the world around him.
As he prepared to leave the Ocean's embrace, one thought lingered in his mind:
Whatever made him unique wasn't a flaw—it was an advantage.
And he planned to use it to its fullest potential.