Earlier, I mentioned that a person can only create a stable Soul Circuitry if they perform the operation themselves. But Wally wasn't just any creation—he was part of me, forged from the same thread. That connection changed everything.
I lay on the operation table as Wally meticulously rebuilt my veins and arteries into grade-two circuitry crafted from extraterrestrial alloy.
The process was painful, no doubt, but I'd endured worse — like the time I tore off my own limbs. Besides, even if I'd wanted to complain, a tube connected directly to my mouth was busy pumping a radiation-neutralizing acid down my throat.
That acid was supposed to be only for coating the sewing needle. But thanks to my unique physiology, I'd managed to store it safely within my bloodstream — a second layer of protection layered atop the first.
I could feel my life energy gradually slipping away, like warm currents draining through the circuits as they fused seamlessly with my very being. My control over the vessel sharpened, tightening like taut strings on a marionette — every subtle twitch, every flicker of movement responding instantly to my will. This… this must be what the 58th Shadow felt... a harmony of flesh and spirit in perfect synchrony.
The circuits wrapped around my soul, a soft electric hum vibrating beneath my skin as those connected to both my hearts were meticulously reconstructed. It was as if invisible threads, woven from the very fabric of my essence, were stitching my body together — bonds stronger than steel, pulsing with a gentle warmth that spread from my core.
Ryuk once said a vessel and its soul are separate entities, held together only by the fragile tether of the Material Plane of Existence. Without that tenuous thread, the vessel would be nothing but an empty husk. This process mirrored the soul imprints of Hunters, binding vessel and soul so completely that possession became an impossibility — a silent fortress humming with life beneath the surface.
I could feel my remade blood vessels pulsing with each heartbeat, expanding and contracting like serpents beneath my skin. My muscles swelled, fibers tightening and shifting as if reforged from molten steel. The sensation began deep within my chest—at my heart—and radiated outward, flooding every limb, every tendon, until my entire body hummed with a strange vitality.
This was it. This was the Soul Circuitry I had recreated.
Wally loosened my restraints, his metallic fingers clicking softly, and removed the tube from my mouth. The sterile tang of medical fluid still coated my tongue. I drew in a deep breath, then activated my ability.
Time slowed to a crawl. The world around me became a series of frozen frames as I stepped into my clothes with deliberate precision.
When I released my hold on time, I paused. "…Did I just have a growth spurt?" My voice sounded different—slightly deeper, as if my frame had grown into it. My clothes clung too tightly to my now-robust build, seams straining against my shoulders and arms.
"Is your vessel alright?" Ryuk asked, his tone edged with curiosity rather than concern.
"Seems so… The lifespan I'm losing is being replenished by Wally's energy. The calculations were flawless. However…" I clenched my left fist. A sharp crack split the air—almost a soundwave—forcing me to loosen my grip. "…On second thought, this isn't the right place to test my strength."
"You think our strength is equivalent to a normal C-rank werewolf without aura?" Moriarty asked, taking control of the vessel mid-sentence. Without waiting for an answer, he casually flicked the table we had used during the operation.
CRASH
The heavy steel frame shot forward like a projectile, its legs screeching against the floor before it pierced halfway into the reinforced wall. The other half remained jutting out, crumpled and compressed as though caught in an invisible vice.
"…Can we deactivate this?" Moriarty muttered, eyeing the wreckage with a mix of fascination and regret.
"Let's try meditation. Our state feels… familiar — like the berserker haze those barbaric races enter when charging into battle. There must be a way to calm the vessel," I said from within the mind realm, my voice steady but edged with urgency.
"You ever seen an orc meditate?" Moriarty asked, lowering himself to the floor in a lotus position, his broad frame creaking the wooden boards beneath him.
"Their thick skulls can't even comprehend the word 'meditation,'" I scoffed, my tone curling into a sneer. "They simply wait for the bloodletting to end, letting the rage bleed away with the screams of their enemies. Then, they feast and celebrate while their bodies return to normal."
I leaned forward slightly, my words clipped with impatience. "Unfortunately, we don't have that luxury. If someone notices our sudden… change, we can't just shrug and say we had a growth spurt. That's idiotic. We fix this now."
However, contrary to what we had hoped, meditation didn't alter our condition. As we'd suspected… this was something permanent.
"…We need to get some new clothes," Moriarty remarked.
"Is there a life energy circulation method? We only tried mana circulation. And we need to do something about… this," I said, taking over for a moment. "Let me try something."
The Soul Circuitry drew upon my life energy, transferring it to the vessel to strengthen it. That meant there had to be a medium. And if that medium was the newly formed network of blood vessels, then surely there was also a way to block it.
Activating my Nether Vision, I saw the dense, white energy blanketing my vessel.
"Sorcerers can control death energy because they chase a single perspective… Yes, there is an end to every beginning. But in their pursuit of that end, they fail to grasp the true purpose of existence. Life and death—why do they seem so different, when in truth they represent the same thing… existence itself?" I mused aloud.
"They're blind to the beauty of both sides. Just as life is incomplete without its end… death is incomplete without its beginning," I answered myself quietly.
"In truth, sorcerers could command both life and death energies… if only they learned to see the beauty in both halves of existence," I murmured, my voice steady as the currents within me surged.
I drew the twin forces inward—life's warmth and death's cold hush—until they met in perfect balance, the tension between them taut like a drawn bowstring.
Then, with deliberate precision, I closed one channel, cutting off the flow of life energy from Wally, and severed another—the lifeline from my Soul Circuitry to the rest of my vessel. The shift was instantaneous. My skin cooled, my pulse slowed, and in the space of a breath, my body was as it had been before the operation. Permanent, perhaps… but easily reversible with a single reconnection.
"Did you just… improve this?" Moriarty asked, his soul form flickering into existence, eyes narrowing in surprise.
"Wonders of thinking outside the box," I replied, a small, knowing smile curling my lips.
"Son of a Mahoon," he muttered, caught between admiration and respect.