Chapter 39 : Tempus Fugit - Bloated.

I could lie and pretend that I am feeling confident and shit, as my mind-soul floats in the depths of the Lower Stratum, what little I can feel of the currents of the sea of souls and thoughts under this much pressure very lightly buffeting me this way and that, my tether held firmly in my 'hand'.

I am not.

Not in the slightest, in fact.

Since I landed on this world, I played it safe with my powers -or as safe as I could make it in any case considering the nature of said powers- and this was, technically, the first time I would be walking outside of the beaten paths of 'my' training as a Sanctioned Psyker.

There isn't a word in all the languages known to mankind that can properly express how bad it could potentially go.

One does not simply play with the psychic-soul stuff of the universe, after all.

Except Magnus, maybe.

But… most of my frame of reference is built upon the Warp I 'know', the one which got murder-blended by a pseudo-eternal war between two species of 'divine' beings, then got somehow worse when too many Warp sensitives super soldiers left with nothing to do decided to murderfuck a fourth Ruinous Power into existence by being absolute morons.

The local Immaterium was calm, quiet, not still as a lake because that's not how those things work, but it was a comparatively infinitely peaceful sea that I was sailing on.

Which still didn't make the whole experience any less dangerous, it merely made it so that the only potential points of failure are my control over the energies of the Empyrean and, well, me and my rather lackluster knowledge of the things I was playing with.

At least, I won't have the time to bemoan my own failings if I end up creating a Warpstorm centered on my house or something along those lines, silver linings and all that.

I take a not-breath, my grip on my tether tightening a notch.

…Still, there were worse places to die, I guess.

It's funny, really.

I've been doing the same, technically mind numbingly boring, shit every day for months, yet I still wasn't over it.

Eldritch, non-euclidian, fractal forms all around me, in their multi-hued beauty, under a sky of ebbs and flows of roiling clouds, dotted with so many little stars I couldn't even hope to count them all, my mind-self getting slowly rocked by the deeper, calmer currents.

Same things, like always, albeit always different and in motion, like looking into a never ending kaleidoscope without being the one turning the cylinder.

And I couldn't get enough of it.

I think it's mostly due to the fact that I'm -at least I think so- the sole asshole being able to traipse around this playground.

My playground, all mine.

Maybe it is how rich folks feel when they buy a new, never seen before yacht and rub it in the face of their friends?

Except, well, I am keeping the existence of the Immaterium very close to my chest, and will take this knowledge to the grave if I can help it.

Still, it is a heady feeling, to know that you're the only one able to bear witness to this phantasmagorical, ever-changing landscape.

And I'm stalling.

I exhale in the real world, slowly shaking my not-head in the Immaterium.

Of course, I'm stalling, who fucking wouldn't, really?

After all, I'm making a pretty huge gamble here, one I'm pretty sure will work out in the end as long as I don't bend over to pick up the stupid ball, but it doesn't do anything to quell my fears-

-and the fact that this experiment, all of this, could very well end up being unneeded.

After all, if I manage to get the fuck out of Kuoh once the schoolyear's over, it would mean that I'm not on a course collision with the fucking plot and can go back to a semblance of a normal life and stop grinding like my life's tied to my capacity to blow shit up with my mind.

Doesn't mean I'll stop completely, but I'll feel a lot less pressure, let me tell you that.

Thank fuck I managed to stumble my way into a relationship to help me cope with all that potential nonsense because I'm pretty sure I would've blown a fuse at some point without a means to vent my everbuilding mental stress.

Honestly, I have no idea how those bushy tailed protagonists in the stories I used to read managed to deal with the fact they knew they got dropped head first into a death world and still conveniently ape a happy-go-lucky and can-do attitude.

The truth is, I'm scared.

Always, all the damn time, and I would probably be a mess if I didn't have multiple opportunities to ensure my survival-

And I'm stalling, again.

I feel my body repress a shudder in the real-world.

Yes, I'm scared, I acknowledged that not so long ago.

Scared of the potential bad ends waiting for my plump ass around the corner, scared that my little masquerade is going to one day blow up in my face, scared that I'll one day end up unrecognizable to myself when I look in the mirror, either due to some actions I'll have to take to ensure my continued survival or because someone thought too hard about me and changed my very being due to my connection with the Empyrean-

-and, more importantly, I'm scared shitless of being powerless and losing control over my own fate.

Which is why…

…I have to do this.

Because having a really big stick as a deterrent is worth all the friends you could potentially make in this world.

And I want myself a really big stick.

One last time, I take another, shuddering, hitching, breath-

-before finally taking the first step.

Mind-soul still floating in the depths of the Lower Stratum and my 'right hand' clutching at my tether like the lifeline it is, my not-eyes now closed to the wonders of the Immaterium, my focus, honed through my practice with my telekinesis, halves itself in two-

-one part on the tether, the oh so important lifeline guiding me back to my body-

-and the other starting to build a second tether.

I had thought, long and hard, about how I could exactly make what the Shamans of Old dreamed a reality.

Taking parts of the Warp inside of yourself to bolster your soul is fine and dandy, after all, but doing so without harmonizing it with your already existing metaphysical presence reeked of a tremendously bad idea in the making.

The Immaterium is, after all, ever changing, even here, in this universe where it is void of life and its ebbs and flows are gentle.

It still changes, because it is in its nature, being influenced by the minds of countless mortals and pseudo-immortals as it is.

So, how do you harmonize the psychic-soul stuff of the universe with your own soul?

Well, the answer is actually pretty simple.

From my free hand, Warp thoughtforms-particulate starts to slowly coalesce, braiding with each other, beating in rhythm with my not-heart.

Slowly, gently, a second extension of myself materializes, one which looks furiously like the first tether I'm still clutching with my mind's might-

-only to stop after a mere few centimeters, enough to either validate or invalidate my theory.

Not-eyes still closed and my other 'senses' muted, I probe gently with my mind-soul the beginning of a secondary anchor-link, one which goes nowhere, and can't help but relax a little when it beats in rhythm and without any dissonance with my mind-soul.

Because, after all, a side-effect of this dumb as fuck, extremely dangerous exercise aimed at weeding out the common rabble from the potential Navigators, is that you become skilled at taking part of the Warp and making it behave like your mind-soul.

To be able to snap back into your own body in a pinch before getting nommed on by a daemon with the help of the construct, yes, but still.

And so, my two step plan was born when I realized just how the tether was constructed.

It's a really basic, two step plan.

Firstly, create a tether which leads basically nowhere in the Lower Stratum, where the currents are easy to manage and it can't unravel like it would without any doubt in the original setting.

Secondly, reel it 'in', and make it stay.

Admittedly, while the first step is easy, I have absolutely no fucking clue as to how to go about the second.

I feel myself take a very slow breath in the material plane, even as I steel myself, going at it with the first thing which comes to my mind-

-and simply Will the unanchored tether to Join with me-

-and I probably would've missed a step if I had been standing, as I feel it working, somehow, having this very acute impression that I'm now a little more as a few tenths of a millimeter join me-

-that is, until a wet, hot sensation starts to make itself known in the material plane, one which just so happens to be between my nostrils and mouth.

My breath hitches as I realize that I'm having a nosebleed, which is kinda 'You're doing psychic stuff wrong' one-o-one, and I'm starting to relax my focus on the unanchored tether so as to dissipate it back into its Warp components-

-which totally doesn't work as intended as the fucker rushes in instead of going away, and my level of dread instantly rises-

-I snap back to my body in panic, wanting to have a first hand account of how I fucked up-

-and I almost instantly pass out, my nose a bloody fountain and my temples white-hot from the pain, feeling bloated for lack of a better word, like I'm wearing clothes two sizes too tight-

I groan, one hand coming to pinch my nose, the vocalization and motion both somehow making the matter worse-

-and I realize, belatedly, as the headache keep getting more acute by the second, like two drills getting deeper into my temples, that I'm actually fucking dying, the lack of general Warp fuckery in the vicinity having downplayed the urgency of the situation for a few beats.

The Voices, as if summoned by the happenings, start to weep in Sadness and Loneliness, almost making me think that this is it, that I'm a lost cause and that my second life is going to end like this, the weight of my mind-soul having somehow crushed my brain under its pressure-

-but it gives me the kick in the ass needed to try to course-correct this shit show.

Already open like I am to the Whispers, I let them flow through me, seeking out those of Wellness and Change, banking on them to heal me back to perfect health like they always do-

-but, bar making the headache a little more tolerable, 'I' am still too big for my body, and I have to do something-

My thoughts halt for but a second, as I lay curled in a fetal position on my bed, and, amid the seemingly everlasting pain, I get an idea.

Eyes closed, senses muted, my brain still getting slow cooked, I beseech the Susurrus, looking for something-

-and I find it, an ever-changing, excitable puppy of yellow-ish tone.

Without waiting or second guessing, I invite it to flow within myself, the multi-hue of Wellness getting a little brighter as a result as it keeps mixing itself with the blueish tint of Change-

-and, for a long while, I keep going at it, letting the blend of three different meanings coalesce inside of me.

Slowly, ever so slowly, even if I'm willing to bet it only took a few minutes at most, the pain progressively goes away, until I can finally relax when I finally get the impression that the clothes fit once more.

With a bone-deep and weary groan, I flop over on my bed, only now noticing the mess I made, caked in blood and sweat both.

I take deep, hungry lungfuls of air, staring sightlessly at my ceiling-

-before chuckling, mirthlessly, as I realize that I've done it, somehow.

"Note to self:" I rasp audibly, lightheaded and feeling funny due to my feverish blood loss, "Channelling Wellness, Change and Evolution simultaneously right from the start next time, because fuck going at it half-cocked like I just did."

Unbidden, a laugh tore itself out of my lips as I realize the enormity of what I've just pulled off.

I laugh, laugh and laugh-

-until I can laugh no longer, and pass out from exhaustion.

[AN: A lil' bit of a close call, I'd say :3

Hope you enjoy, xoxo]