After a full cycle of Black Rainfall and stabilizing the gravitational stake, the system initiates a periodic body tribulation:
> "Minor Flesh-Trial – Gravity Variant. Initiates in 300 seconds."
No thunder. No chaos in the air. Only one enemy: weight—an invisible, rising mass that doubles every minute. Its sole intent: crush the Fogframe skeleton until it fractures into grey dust. Victory means evolution: Blood Pulse → Early II, and the birth of a new passive: Grav-Rush. Failure means the complete shattering of the physical path.
---
The quarter-light of dawn creeps over the shattered horizon. Silence dominates the lighthouse—until the system breaks it with an icy tone.
Each second adds phantom kilograms to his foggy ribs. The air thickens—not just damp like lukewarm water, but syrupy. Breathing becomes an exercise in defiance.
---
Within the crystal workshop, he carves a hot pulse-thread down his chest, exposing the semi-translucent core of his aura.
Between ribs three and four, he installs the Grav-Core β, tightly wrapped in a crisscrossed Bone-Lightning lattice.
A surge of 90 electric QP ignites the core. It syncs with his heartbeat—each thump compresses and releases the piston valve, echoing deeper.
A violet spark flares from within. The mist-blood begins to drag phantom mass, prepping for the imminent collapse.
---
He drops into the trench. Every meter stretches into three, stretched by gravitational drag.
Crystal stones shimmer as they weep—a rising frequency: 2 Hz → 3 → 4…
At the threshold, the system locks the trial:
> Weight Amplification: × 1.8 … × 1.9 … × 2.0
---
A lightning vertebra in his fog-leg snaps under pressure. Grey chaos-dust leaks from the fracture.
The pain isn't heat—it's a metallic chill, slicing from within.
Anchor Glyph flashes red:
> "Integrity < 70% – Structural Collapse Risk"
He channels 30 thermal QP from the sub Heat-Core to internally weld the break. It holds—but at the cost of half his heat reserves.
---
First wave: ×2.5g – The air becomes gel. He folds his chest inward like origami. The Pulse-Silk tugs his heart upwards.
Second wave: ×3g – Vision flickers. Black sparks dance. He inverts the Grav-Core, each beat pulling spectral impurities upward to the stake, lowering blood viscosity.
Third wave: ×3.6g – Time dilates. Every heartbeat stretches into a paragraph of sensation.
He releases the Lightning-Sprite. A cry of light rings out like a cathedral bell. Its flash triggers the soul-nerve in his core, completing the body–soul circuit.
The blood shifts—Emerald Green Surge floods his vessels.
---
Under crushing force, his spine twists like molten coils. Rather than resist, he fires a Pulse-Focus into the Grav-Core.
Gravity reverses—for one second. The spine straightens. But the recoil sends a vacuum-jolt through his core.
For a breathless instant, he feels his organs pulled outside his body—then slam back into place.
---
> Flesh-Trial: PASSED
Blood-Pulse: EARLY II
New Passive: Grav-Rush (converts partial weight into acceleration)
Bio-Integrity: 92%
The mine calms. Frequency drops to 1 Hz. The crystal walls dim from amethyst to matte charcoal—a sign: potential energy stabilized.
---
The trench base cracks.
From it emerges a small white stone—floating, defiant of all pull.
Life-Sense tags it:
> Grav-Seed α – Massless, but inversely magnifies any object's weight it touches.
The cornerstone for the upcoming ability: Gravity Steps.
---
Climbing out is impossible. Instead—
He activates Grav-Rush: the Grav-Core pulses twice—half redirects his weight into the Spike, the other half transforms it into vertical thrust.
He launches.
Twenty meters in one second. The wind peels mist from his skin.
He lands at the trench's mouth, exhaling green steam.
---
The Filter hums—a hiss like coal cooling in winter.
Energy yield spikes: +30 QP/min via stable impurity-weight conversion.
He lifts the Grav-Seed under pale light, sees a face in the reflection—faceless, like a mist-mask.
He whispers:
> "These bones… learned to laugh beneath the mountain."
But peace is brief.
The lighthouse pings:
> "Chaos-Starfall deviated—will impact the Glass Valley in 6 hours."
He chuckles, broken:
> "Next step… teach a snail to fly."
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