Dario and Nika shared a brief look before going back to being mesmerized by Saigo’s tale, dumbly chewing and staring at the moving images like two oxen in a wheat field. Whenever the image or sound cut out, the chewing would stop for a moment as they waited, tense, until it came back on.

  “For those raised on this floor, it was a basic tenet of cultivating with Heart Ki that fire may never be fought with fire. Outsiders may not be aware of this basic truth, but it applies fully to fighting parasites: fire must always be fought with water. Ki of the Heart can only be neutralized or overwhelmed by its opposite.”

  Neither spoke, but both frowned, the sounds of chewing slowing down some. If that meant what Dario thought it did, it would have been really nice to have known that earlier.

  “So it is also in fighting their influence from afar. I believe the one that reaches into our dreams to be the same that we awoke from his slumber. The last of their generals, the one known as Uso. His domain of lies and deceit is not a base emotion, though some scholars have claimed that it grew as an amalgam of anxiety, guilt and shame. According to some accounts, that is why he was the smartest of the generals and this may also be why he lived through starvation where others perished.

  Be that as it may, his influence is fought by confidence and deep personal truths, such as the revelations that guide us from Clay into Talc. These are hard to grasp even when not under duress, but meditating on the beliefs one is most confident in may be a helpful tool.”

  The image scrambled again, the sound distorting, coming back only in brief flashes.

  “...what it wants… a way to… seal… limited time…”

  Unintelligible fragments of words and garbled images continued until finally it stopped and there was darkness. The sounds of bowls being cleaned out continued for a moment, with Dario being the first to speak up.

  “So. Herbs and… meditation? Then… training?”

  There was more to be said but thinking and talking were difficult. Nika seemed to agree, grunting and nodding, so after a short pause, they got to work.

  It took Dario far too long to realize he needed the tablet, then he kept forgetting Hana’s description of what Valerian Balm looked like. After walking from one box of plants to the next with his tablet in hand, going over the description at least a dozen times, he finally found the herb they needed.

  It was an unassuming plant, short and stocky with rough purple buds. After grinding it into a kind of dry paste, he made a large pot of tea from it, which they both greedily drank multiple cups of before finally passing out.

  Lying on a cold floor covered in centuries worth of dirt, Dario had the best sleep of his life. Eventually, after an unknown amount of sleep, a nightmare began to creep in once more, but with his mind refreshed he was primed to recognize it and he managed to wake himself quickly.

  Nika was already awake and seemed to be meditating, so he left her to it and headed for the training room. Now that he’d finally gotten some real sleep, Dario realized just how idiotic his plan had been. Two explosives tied together was not going to be enough to escape. What was the point of rushing off to meet his mother when he’d just get himself killed? That would make her more sad, not less.

  No, if they were going to bust out of here, he was going to need a whole lot more tricks.

  He needed to solve not just his splicing problem, but also learn how to properly use the strange emotional Ki of this floor. Nika had briefly used anger as a weapon, and in moments of despair he’d been able to use the black smoke as a shield, but there had to be more they could do with it. It would also be good to dig out the seams in his legs as deep as he could get the plant Ki to go. He had a hunch that there’d be a lot of running in his near future.

  Dario let out a long sigh. It was time to do some actual work. But it was not only necessary for survival, but also to get out of this forsaken hole they’d found themselves in and back to his mother.

  With just the thought of her, the pain came flooding back, but Dario thought it stung a bit less this time. Remembering the light that he’d seen for a brief moment in the old library, he wondered if JeeJee was somehow keeping an eye on him. Maybe the old man would be taking care of his mother too?

  The thought that she would have some support was comforting and he wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before. Now that he was thinking of it with more clarity, she wouldn’t be sitting in that kitchen by herself all the time, she’d get support from old Luca and Carla and the rest of the village. He adjusted the mental image of her at the kitchen table, Carla and Luka popping up on either side of his mother, squeezing her shoulder sympathetically.

  That… helped. Now that mud wasn’t clinging to his every thought, he couldn’t help but think of Nika’s comment as well, that there were more important things than a dinner with his mother. Even after seeing his memories, she couldn’t possibly understand all the history behind it, but now that the worst had come to pass and everyone was still alive and kicking, he had to wonder…

  Maybe she had a point? Was it possible that he’d been wrong to put so much importance to being there for his mother?

  For the first time, then, he wondered. What would he want to do with his life if he wasn’t forced to stay in the Basement?

  ***

  Sat on a dusty old floor with her legs crossed and her back straight, Veronika Houjo continued her search for certainty.

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  With its foundations cracked and its walls torn apart, her fortress was quite worse for wear. But the Houjo were nothing if not builders; cracks could be mended and walls could be rebuilt. So she investigated. Deeper and deeper she went into those foundations, searching for truth and certainty, until she was questioning even her own existence.

  That was quickly discarded as folly - she would have to accept her own thoughts and experiences, or there would be nothing more to think of. But then, granted that she was a human being with thoughts and desires, the next question felt equally foundational: why should she want to live virtuously at all?

  Because it was right, was the intuitive answer, but that was circular reasoning. It was certainly true that it felt right - as she investigated her own feelings, she found that her conviction and desire was strong. She wanted to live according to the principles of virtue, that much was certain. But why?

  Because the elders had demanded it of me. She took that answer and poked at it from all sides, letting it swirl around in her head as if tasting an aged wine. It felt… not false, but unsatisfactory. Her upbringing had indeed instilled in her a strong sense of right and wrong. Yet if she had been raised by amoral scoundrels, would she have grown up to be one herself? It was an uncomfortable thought, one which she could not answer with any certainty, so she moved on.

  Because I want human society to thrive. This was a satisfying answer, anchored in the very nature of her existence as a human being. Regardless of one’s upbringing, every human being desired safety, food and shelter. With the exception of a few deviants, everyone also yearned for meaningful relationships. The Way of the Virtuous Cultivator went on at some length about the duties of cultivators and the societal need for ensuring that powerful cultivators would not violate certain principles. It would take a thriving society and selfless collaboration for humanity to ever achieve the distant goal of piercing the Final Ceiling. As she considered that, one final answer came to mind.

  Because I want to thrive. Though it was also anchored in her nature, this felt even more deeply true for her as an individual. To learn, to grow, to improve and to achieve difficult things were desires that resonated with her deeply. This goal was also at the very core of the teachings of virtue: to live according to certain principles which would help her become the best version of herself.

  There was a feeling of clear conviction as she considered those desires, and when she opened her eyes there was a wisp of green Ki rising from her chest. It was just a thin swirl of it, but as she breathed in and out, she felt how it firmed her conviction. Still, it was not a deep revelation and she knew it would not be enough to pass onto Talc. Something still stood in her way.

  It was the same hurdle that had brought the avalanche of doubts crashing down the other day. She considered that scenario of being judged by the clan once again, this time with more clarity, able to maintain her composure and keep the emotions at bay.

  The question here was a touch more complicated: provided that her elders’ teachings should not be taken for granted and that the principles of virtue stood on a stronger foundation, then why did even the mere imagination of retribution from her clan elders shake her to her core? The consequences of being cast out would be dire, but it was not a concern for her safety that brought her heart to beating like a racing stallion.

  She tried to get at the core of it, but found that she couldn’t reach deeper. Her thoughts circled around the issue, and for some reason she recalled Dario’s words: that even if her parents were aware of her predicament, they would not care.

  It was a casual insult, she knew, one that had sprung up in the spur of the moment, but it had cut deep. The Hagakure was clear in its guidance on such matters: to let the words of others touch you was to provide them with a powerful weapon. A trained mind should let the words wash over it while focusing on the speaker’s intent: an insult was a tool like any other, and it could be turned against its wielder; its intended purpose might reveal their ambitions.

  Yet the lingering pain rose again as she considered the words, increasing in intensity until she finally shook her head and got up with a frustrated sigh. Perhaps a bout of physical exercise would help reset her mind in a way. It had been too long since she’d trained.

  The wound across her chest was still raw enough that she moved with slow care, but going through her stances was a familiar comfort. Too familiar, she decided, challenging herself to incorporate her latest learnings into the shifting pattern of kicks and punches.

  First, she moved to an empty wall and attempted to pulse her Ki in and out of it each time she touched it, taking a bit of hardness out with each blow. It was a challenging exercise that brought only slow progress, but eventually this would become a mighty tool to break armors and weapons alike.

  After a few training cycles to practice her stances and the particular Ki flow that withdrew hardness, she shifted to the methods taught by the boron-bound book she’d found. Its teachings were peculiar, but they spoke to her. During her training deep down in her clan’s mines, she’d always felt there was some ephemeral aspect of the endless expanses of stone that she couldn’t quite identify.

  The clan ancestor named it ‘heft’, though it could also be understood as a kind of pressure that resulted from great volumes of stone. It was more tangible to picture the weight of a mountain and the effect that would have, yet it was different from the aspects of heaviness and hardness, which she already used. Heft was more like a pulling force, one that only emerged when stone reached a certain mass. Even in the depths of the Houjo mines, it was present only faintly, so it had been to some surprise that she’d found specks of it present in the stone around her, too.

  Once again the words of the book came to her: heft arises from the certainty of mass; imagine the mountain’s pressure and the canyon’s pull. She swept her foot over the floor as her mind swept through her seams, gathering up bits and pieces of that force until there was just barely enough to have an effect.

  Unlike hardness or heaviness, this Ki aspect couldn’t be pushed out of her skin to reinforce her strikes. As soon as it left her seams, the heft would spread over an area and pull everything down. That was all she could manage for now: a short pull in a small area. The goal of her training was to increase both area and duration, so she worked to build those with each sweep.

  After several hours of training, she felt thoroughly drained and had another pot of tea before briefly meditating. The conviction she felt when thinking of her desires coursed through her body, and she held the thin swirls of green smoke close as she closed her eyes for a short rest.

  BOOM!

  Nika shot up, heart pounding in her ears. She must have fallen asleep. What was-

  BOOM!

  It was coming from the hallway. Was Dario trying to break out again? She dashed through the room, skidded around the corner then nearly crashed into a sprinting Dario. They gave each other a look of surprise.

  “It’s not you?” they said at the same time.

  BOOM!

  Two heads turned down the hall, where the stone hatch shook and small pebbles clattered down the stairway.

  “Chiiildreeen-” Uso’s warped voice rumbled through the stone. “You’ve hidden long enough. Time to come out and pla-ay!”