Abisai's words registered, but in that moment, I didn't care what they meant. I didn't care what a Physique was. I didn't care that this strange, faceless voice was asking me to endure, as if I'd had a choice in the matter.
And even though I cared about none of it, the truth of the matter was, I did have a choice. I could just as easily have turned off my healing, but deep down, I knew, this process would only be beneficial. Because my gift would always---always---rebuild me stronger.
And I wanted whatever it was would result from this war raging on inside me.
Each heartbeat was a quake.
Each breath, a tremor.
Every change and recursion brought with it a slightly better balance, slightly more strength, slightly more adaptation.
Until, somewhere within that infinite recursion, the equilibrium my gift had sought all this while began to form.
Bit, by painful bit, the layers tore less.
The tissue rejected less.
And less.
And even lesser.
