6:00 AM. My eyes popped open, sharp and alert.
The rough blanket scratched at my skin. The same dull grey light filtered in. The air felt heavy, stale as ever.
Loop seven.
A cold dread settled in my chest, familiar as an old friend. But beneath it, something stirred. Not quite hope. More like a stubborn grit.
I didn't waste time. No staring at the ceiling. No dragging my feet. I swung my legs off the bunk, the frame groaning under me. My moves were quick, focused.
Forget breakfast. Forget trying to fit in. Six hours was too short to mess around.
I slipped out of the sleeping quarters while the others grumbled awake. The early chill slapped my face, shaking off the last bits of sleep. The training yard sat empty, washed in pale morning light.
This was my shot.
I dropped to the ground, crossing my legs on the hard dirt. The damp cold bit through my thin pants. Shutting my eyes, I pulled in a deep breath and turned my focus inside.
Nine Cycles Qi Method. It was the simplest trick for outer gate guards like me, barely enough to hit Stage 3 even after years. But it was all I had.
I pushed the weak Qi inside me to move. It felt thick, like mud, fighting me every step. My meridians, the energy paths, were tight and blocked. I forced harder, ignoring the ache starting behind my eyes.
First cycle. Slow as tar. Second cycle. Still sluggish, but maybe just a tiny bit smoother. Third cycle. I clenched my teeth, sweat dripping down despite the cool air.
I pictured my Qi like water, grinding down a rock. Steady. Stubborn. Unstoppable.
The sun climbed up, splashing orange and purple across the sky. Barracks noise started up, but I blocked it out. Two full hours. I gave everything to cycling my Qi, pushing it through, over and over.
By the time others hit the yard, I was shaking, worn out. My insides felt raw, like they'd been scraped. But there was something new. A small warmth in my gut, a faint buzz where before there was nothing. Not Stage 2 yet. But it was a step. Real progress, carved out of stolen moments.
I stumbled to my feet, legs like jelly. My head spun. I grabbed my practice sword, leaning on it for a second. Then I started the Flowing Water Sword forms. Thrust. Parry. Slice. My muscles burned, but the moves felt lighter. Quicker. The blade answered just a bit faster.
Practice builds skill. Repetition makes strength. This loop wasn't just breaking me; it was shaping me.
Duty called. I cleaned up fast and headed to the South Gate, getting there right before the shift swap. Jin Kai lounged against the wall, staring at his nails like they held all the answers.
He looked up as I took my spot, his usual smirk curling his lips. "Still slow as a turtle in mud, Wen? Your Qi flow might as well be dead. Pathetic." His tone oozed mockery.
Normally, that would cut deep. Today, I felt a dark kind of satisfaction. Let him think I'm weak. Let him look down on me. His mistake was my cover.
I did my job, but part of my mind wandered, tracing the Qi flow around me. It was a basic skill, hardly taught in training. Most guards ignored it. But I focused, trying to pick up the faint energy of people at the gate, the patrols, even the animals.
It was like catching whispers in a loud crowd. Just hints. A stronger pulse from Captain Liu as he walked by. Jin Kai's cocky, sharp energy. The steady hum of the gate's defense setup.
11:30 AM. The key moment was close. Staying at the gate was a death sentence. Dodging Jin Kai's blast wasn't enough. The automaton crash showed me that.
I needed a safer spot. A place to watch from afar.
During a quiet moment, I slipped off, heading for the low buildings near the main road. A fast climb up some crates, a jump to a drainpipe, and I hauled myself onto a flat, hidden rooftop over the gate area. Dust and bird feathers kicked up around me.
I lay low, peeking over the edge. Below, the city moved on, clueless about the countdown in my head. I saw Jin Kai showing off near the gate, the stream of merchants, the smugglers getting closer.
From up here, I kept working on my Qi sensing. Trying to tell energies apart, guess their power. It was rough, but it was new. Another weapon in my hands.
11:58 AM. The yells. The bright flash of Jin Kai's strike. The chaos right after. I watched it all from my safe hideout, heart racing, but untouched.
Noon. The bell rang out.
12:01 PM. Still breathing.
12:05 PM. Still alive. I did it again. Survived by getting out of the danger completely.
Relief mixed with bone-deep tiredness. I stayed hidden until things calmed down, then slid back into the city, sticking to side paths.
Back at the barracks, exhaustion slammed into me like a fist. I dragged myself into my bunk, the scratchy blanket feeling like heaven. Survival. Progress. I managed both today.
My eyes shut. Sleep pulled me under fast, into a thick, heavy dark.
12:45 PM. A hot, sharp sting burned my neck. My eyes snapped open. Pain blasted through me, shooting down my spine. My throat locked up. I gasped, trying to shout, but only a weak wheeze came out.
My hand shot to my neck, touching something small, many-legged, scurrying off into the bunk's shadows. A shadow spider. Just a common pest in these old barracks. Their venom hit hard, paralyzing, pure agony.
Black spots blurred my sight. The room spun. The faint Qi warmth in me felt useless, drowned by the poison's bite.
Death wasn't just the big, loud mess at noon. It hid in the small stuff. In the quiet. In the so-called safety of my own bed.
This loop wasn't just about dodging the obvious. It was about expecting every danger, everywhere.
The darkness swallowed me. Again.
