Maksym Pachesiuk
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Moon Cultivation [Book 2] - Chapter 127: Break or Fall
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 23:36:01 +0000 UTCMy breakthrough was to take place in the Hall of Meditation. But not the one I was used to. The Hall of Meditation, like the Halls of Order, Medicine, and Technology, was one of the school’s structural divisions. When a first-year spoke of the Hall of Meditation, he usually meant that utilitarian corridor lined with fifty cramped chambers that looked more like gas chambers or shipping containers.
Kate brought me to a different hall. This one bore no resemblance to an industrial facility. There was no crowd, and no one was in a rush.
For one thing, it was far more spacious. Two floors with a balcony that gave access to the second tier of chambers, yet didn’t obstruct the open central space.
The Flow Chambers here were separate rooms, each about the size of a small bathroom. Some chambers came with soft flooring and mats, others with chairs and little tables. In some there were paintings on the walls, in others deeply embedded monitors, sensor indicators, and transparent walls and doors that sealed just as tightly as the steel ones in my old hall.
The transparent walls had the same dimming function as Rene’s glass trainer’s booth. About a third of the chamber walls were matte-white, which meant people were inside.
The ceiling of the hall was high, supported by central columns. The columns had both a practical purpose, holding up the roof, dividing the hall into zones, and a decorative one. Ivy and other climbing plants wound around them. Some niches between them held bonsai trees, others miniature rock gardens, fountains, and artificial streams. Four columns in the very centre formed a giant aquarium stretching up to the ceiling. The soft yellow-tinted lighting created the effect of a perpetual sunset, refracting and shimmering through the water at odd angles.
The passageway niches still had plenty of space for comfortable sofas and little tables. The air didn’t reek of eternal antiseptic mixed with plastic, but of something fresh and subtle. Perhaps mountain mint blended with coffee.
At the centre of the hall, around the aquarium, was a self-service area with low sofas, tables, kettles, coffee machines, and even a counter with a real barista.
Marko?
That thinhorn was definitely a Marko model.
He had no fewer visitors than my acquaintance. I wondered if the prices here were just as extortionate.
Overall, this hall had been designed for calm and comfort. The music, flowing from invisible speakers, was almost too drowsy.
Nearer the entrance, on the right where the first chambers should have been, was a medical post. Two doctors in light white coats were calmly drinking tea at a table beside their field bags, glancing now and then at holographic screens displaying the vital signs of everyone inside the chambers.
By the table stood a counter with a thinhorn of an unfamiliar model.
That was where Kate led us.
She explained the change of plans to the horned clerk and pointed at me — her replacement. He didn’t like it. He called for a supervisor.
The supervisor, a young-looking woman with fours on the collar of her black jumpsuit, also disapproved of the change and began lecturing Kate on the importance of following procedures.
After ten minutes of apologies, I was finally allowed to set all the boxes with materials on the table. They gave me a set of clothing and pointed me towards the changing room.
For a moment, panic flickered — I was leaving my precious goods behind. But Kate hurried me along. We’d already wasted a few extra minutes on apologies.
The package contained a standard grey kimono with the school’s black emblem and a pair of Crocs. On closer inspection, though, the belt wasn’t so standard — it had a mechanical strangler-buckle.
Changing was slightly awkward. I had to do it under the watch of a medic, who quickly and confidently began sticking sensors on me. Tiny flexible patches, transparent, with lacework of microcircuits, or perhaps micro-formations within, went one after another on my neck, chest, stomach, wrists, even my collarbone and nape. Each clung to the skin with a faint chill and a thin beep as it synced.
“This won’t interfere during the breakthrough, will it?” I asked as he leaned in with another patch. “If everything goes right — no. If it goes wrong — it will help us.”
“Reassuring.”
I was already used to jumpsuits and tight gear, but the kimono, not only light and almost weightless but far too loose, left me feeling uncomfortable from the start. I hoped it would feel better once things got underway. We’d just stepped out of the changing room when the medics at the tea table suddenly jumped to their feet.
One of them was staring at his tablet, the other grabbed a bag, scanning his colleague’s reaction. The tablet clattered onto the table. The first medic used a Palm movement technique and dashed towards one of the nearer chambers along the opposite wall. His partner with the bag leapt after him, raising a gust of air and overturning cups on the table.
The chamber door opened before them. A moment later, like a blast wave, I was smothered in heavy, dense, scorching qi.
It lasted only an instant, then the qi dispersed.
The chamber wall became transparent once more.
On the floor lay a cadet in the same grey kimono I had been given. The first medic tore off his belt with one hand and bared his chest.
So that was the point of the kimono… to save the medics precious seconds.
The first pressed his palm to the cadet’s chest and began rhythmic compressions. The other waved his hands above the boy’s head. I had seen this before in the old hall — he was forcing air into his lungs.
A few seconds later, the cadet convulsed, arched his back, and coughed, spraying blood across the first medic’s white coat.
The second immediately jabbed something into his neck, while the first rolled him onto his side.
Another pair of medics rushed to help, and the chamber quickly became too crowded to see what was happening inside, even with the transparent wall.
“Seen enough?” asked the medic escorting me. “Move along. Or have you changed your mind? If that rattled you, delaying the breakthrough and calming down might not be a bad idea.”
I turned to Kate, looking for support.
She shrugged, uncertain.
“It really might be a good idea,” she said. “Mindset matters.”
I looked back at the chamber where the resuscitation was happening, and on the way my eyes snagged on the horned clerk, calmly wiping spilled tea from the counter.
Something clenched inside me, not fear…
Well, no point lying to myself!
I was afraid. Afraid that in a moment I’d be the one in that capsule. That all this romance with Black Lotuses and segmented shields might end the same way — with my blood on a medic’s white coat.
On the other hand, if I cancelled the breakthrough today, the demons would know I was preparing it. And they would do everything they could to make sure I ended up just like that poor bastard.
“We continue,” I said.
Fear is a tool. The tool would not be the one using me.
We went to the chamber Kate had reserved. I stepped inside, while she stayed behind to guard my things, sharing with the medic only a single syringe.
There was no furniture inside, just a large soft mat and an ink painting of some mountain.
The medic gave me a stimulant injection straight into the left pectoral muscle and asked if I wanted the walls kept transparent.
I asked him to dim them on both sides.
I lay down as soon as he left.
This chamber had no grids in the floor or ceiling, but the flow of qi still crashed down on me with the same force.
The injection in my chest spread a chill, and then I felt that cold trickling through my body. Frost within, heat without — balancing one another.
And my head…
I could calm myself. I could focus. The flow was smooth, like gentle sea waves that lifted and rocked me.
I knew what to do.
I’d done this dozens of times.
I didn’t resist, didn’t try to control the process — I simply accepted the energy. The flow spread through my body, seeping into every muscle, every cell, making everything inside vibrate in a single rhythm.
I felt my qi expanding, filling voids, strengthening channels.
A signal tone yanked me from the trance long before the flow became uncomfortable.
My head was clear, my body thrumming with energy. I didn’t need five minutes of rest, judging by how I felt, but the rational part of my mind, no doubt sharpened by Bulsara’s miracle drug, told me to be patient and not rush.
For five minutes I sat without moving, waiting for the qi level around me to drop back to normal.
It was far slower than in the small chambers.
When the time was up, the door opened and Kate entered. She gave me a once-over and handed me the box with the crystal.
“You’ll need to call when it’s empty,” she said.
“How will I define that?”
“You’ll know,” Kate replied.
She left, and I opened the box.
For the first time, I saw Novak’s gift. It had a greenish hue, a dim glow shining from within. Its rough surface vibrated in my palms. I latched onto it just as Robinson had taught me.
Slowly, very slowly, energy began to flow into me.
It wasn’t like the Flow. No sense of sea or waves. But even here, I slipped into a trance, one that ended only when the crystal cracked in my hands. The green glow vanished.
“Looks like that’s it,” I said aloud.
Maybe half an hour had passed. Maybe an hour. I had no idea. Time had disappeared.
Kate opened the door again and set three boxes and a bottle of water before me.
The Pill of Nine Poisons came first. Nothing remarkable to the touch. Nothing but bitterness on the tongue. I washed it down with water.
Kate made sure I’d swallowed it, then opened the box with the elixir, took out the vial, and didn’t hand it over. She counted off the two minutes Bulsara had prescribed.
By the time they were up, heartburn was gnawing at me. She finally twisted off the cap and let me drain it.
Apple flavour, it dulled the burning a little.
Once she confirmed I had swallowed the liquid, she pressed a contactless injector to my jugular vein. Another cold surge, but this time it didn’t spread. It shot straight to my solar plexus and coiled around the core. Then it squeezed.
Pain. Cold. Pain!
I remembered every fear. Everything from recent days: the search for my self, doubts gnawing at me, fear of demons, the image of that cadet coughing blood.
Fear would not be the one in control!
Kate opened the third box and held it out. Qi poured from it. Not natural qi, not Fist qi, but some sort of strange mix. But it didn’t matter.
I grabbed the translucent crystalline flower.
“Careful!” Kate barked, but too late. The petals had already cut my fingers.
Despite the blood, I latched onto the Lotus just as I had onto the crystal before.
But it was different.
Hard to explain, so I focused on one simple task — pulling that strange qi into myself.
Cold crawled through my veins. My hands turned to ice, but they still channelled the energy from the flower. My eyes froze, as if two cold icicles had been driven through them, straight into my brain! My reactor froze, choked, stopped. My breath caught, my body locked so hard I couldn’t move.
Only willpower held me, but willpower meant little here. It served only the current from the flower into the frozen core. From somewhere in my gut, two more streams reached for it, but I didn’t control them.
The energy dwindled, less and less, until finally it was gone. The flower in my hands grew brittle. A petal snapped off beneath my right thumb.
My finger twitched, and from that twitch a spark was born, swelling into a lightning bolt that struck my core and shattered the icy crust.
It blazed again!
It blazed with new strength!
If a small breakthrough was like racing full speed down a flawless highway, then the great one… I was, bloody hell, flying through space, strapped to the nose of a spaceship!
“Fuck!” I gasped in awe.
“My congratulations,” Kate replied drily, with a mocking smile.
Comments
Jonathan Griffith
Tyftc!
