The sun was high overhead as I made my way toward the familiar park—the quiet sanctuary where life thrived in every secret nook and shade.
Each day was a search, but today my mind wasn't on just gaining permanent traits. Today, I wanted something different.
I had learned over months of training and trial that my quirk wasn't forced or bound by limits alone.
It gave me a choice.
Sometimes, when my body was heavy and tired—when exhaustion weighed on me like a storm—I could convert the energy of non-permanent traits I absorbed into raw stamina.
Absorbed but not yet permanent traits folded back into reserves of strength, fuelling me when everything else threatened to fail.
It was a revelation, opening a quiet door inside me.
Rather than drain or break, I could replenish.
I sat on the soft grass, closed my eyes, and pictured the species I'd recently gained from—creatures and plants around me, familiar and simple.
The first was an ant—a tiny insect, common yet extraordinary in its strength and perseverance.
When I activated its reflex and muscle twitch traits, their energy surged briefly in me. But I didn't keep them long. Instead, I shifted focus, folding their vigor into my bones like fuel.
With effort, I converted that momentary boost to heal the deep fatigue settling in my limbs, recharging my body with stamina for the hours ahead.
Next, I touched a blade of clover, soft and green between my fingers.
The plant's resilience and calm endurance whispered like a gentle breeze through my cells.
I'd absorbed clover traits before, momentarily boosting endurance and natural healing during play or tired nights.
This time, I folded its subtle life force inward, replenishing my energy banks in a soothing wave.
Finally, I watched a nearby sparrow dart from branch to branch—a small flurry of feathers, always quick, always alert.
Though the sparrow's core traits were permanent, I could still pull traces from its fleeting movements—the quick reflexes and bursts of speed it flashed when escaping danger.
I felt the rush as the traits sparked in my blood, then folded that energy into my reserve, building a reservoir I could call on when the day darkened.
The panel before my eyes tracked every step:
Current Trait Absorptions:
Ant (Insect) — 45/100 (Temporary)Clover (Plant) — 62/100 (Temporary)Sparrow (Bird) — 100/100 (Permanent)Grass (Plant) – 100/100 (Permanent)
Below, a readout of my stamina burned bright—filled not only by rest but through this quiet, conscious conversion of traits.
This ability to convert temporary traits into stamina didn't make me limitless, but it made survival practical.
No longer did exhaustion threaten to hold me hostage. I discarded both fish and cicada for stamina.
Instead, bio-energy flowed in cycles—borrowed, used, replenished.
The park was full of promise, but I knew my place was not just to absorb blindly.
I had to choose, respect, and nurture the delicate balance between power and endurance.
The day stretched on, filled with search and practice.
Small creatures and plants whispered possibilities, eager to give strength to patient hands and attentive hearts.
And I listened—careful to take only what I needed and turn borrowed life into lasting resilience.
100 PS = 1 NEW CHAPTER
200 PS =3 NEW CHAPTERS