"Grandpa, how much do you think he'll benefit?" April asked.
"Don't we still benefit?" the elder asked in response.
"I know, I meant," April clarified.
"Silly girl, I'm just messing with you. The stronger one's initial foundation when inhaling the cherry blossom, the greater the multiplicative effect. Since he beat you in your first exchange, his improvements will be staggering," the elder said teasingly.
"Why do you think he needs the door closed?" April asked.
"Girl, are you really asking such a dumb question? Do you think everyone improves the same way?" the elder asked, speechless.
"I just thought grandpa might have some insights," April pouted.
"I don't even have any insights on how he beat you when you ambushed him," the elder defended himself by throwing the ball into her court.
"Hmmph! I fell into my own trap," April said unhappily.
"By the way, that officer, Trafola? Did you convince her to take you back to Zone 5 in Sector 25? Wasn't she supposed to convince you?" the elder asked suddenly.
"Hahahaha!!!! She walked up to us so seriously, with such a killer expression on her face, that I knew it was good stuff. Grandpa, your way scarier than her, but that's when you're serious. That's how I was convinced. However, she scared my friends too much, so I convinced her to take me back immediately. Even while we were in the military tank, she never dropped the expression, almost like she was coached too much," April said through tears while rolling on the ground.
"That's it? So she didn't really care about you. She just did it for the promotion?" the elder asked, stunned.
(Ooooh)
(Oooh)
"Who cares? It was so funny and worth it in the end!" April squeezed out, muttering as she reigned herself in.
"At least you were sensible," the elder nodded. "Hmm?"
The elder stood up, looking around.
"What's wrong, Grandpa?" April asked.
"I sense an uninvited guest, as well as an unexplainable disturbance," the elder explained.
The elder approached a flat stump and rubbed it with a finger. Images flashed in his mind, revealing an overabundance of cherry blossoms that released an unusually thick fragrance. The roots bathed in this fragrance, becoming thicker and more fluid. A sudden shift in momentum brought his attention to an uninvited guest.
'Could it be?' the elder thought as he headed to the tree's core.
——|——|—|—|——|——
Sikhail GodFiend was quite drunk, but not from alcohol. Technically, alcohol could be made from aromas, but he was confident a tree did not have natural alcohol reserves. Even if the tree had some method of producing it, there were no indications that its owner was producing anything. As he tried to figure out what made him drunk, he struggled to find his bearing, a single finger pointing to some unknown place being the only thing keeping him on track. As he entered a random room and closed the door, the finger gave way to a ghostly phantom bathed in a candy-red aura.
A cherry blossom clipped through the room, through the phantom, pulling at it like an inevitable collision. Stretching an arm out, the phantom performed hand gestures, guiding the cherry blossoms around it.
He swayed here and there, stumbling towards a sofa that he eventually collapsed onto. Another hand gesture and a cherry blossom tornado could be seen above his head. Within the tornado, a pink mist slowly diffused out of the cherry blossoms, diffusing throughout it.
The phantom jabbed a finger at his mouth as he involuntarily swallowed the tornado. A separate world appeared within the phantom's eyes, even as the same image reflected in his eyes, plunging him into a dream.
He was in the middle of a hurricane.
A cherry blossom hurricane?
He recognized the cherry blossoms, but didn't he climb into a tree?
Wait, it smelled really good. It felt nice too.
The laws of logic didn't make sense here.
Was he still even on Earth?
He remembered that he had gotten drunk.
He remembered the strange trance.
HOW was he aware of that?
He stood up automatically, unsure where to stand. He fell, had nothing to hold onto, and collapsed into the blossoms. They spun around as he held on.
They didn't just smell nice, but he felt himself changing. The aroma. It had a transformative, qualitative effect!
In the distance, there was a door. It was rotating on the perimeter, independently from the cherry blossoms.
The exit? A door clearly. The only thing that resembled an entrance or an exit. Nothing else in the proximity, but how to get there?
Hold on, whenever his mouth opened, a thought came out instead. They weren't everyday thoughts either. They seemed like he was grasping at a theory.
What he really wanted to think was air quotes, *there's a door over there, the only door*. What it came out as was what he thought just now…
Confusing as goddamn hell, but what else was he supposed to do here?
The blossoms were clearly tangible; he was sitting on one. Walk towards the door, perhaps? The one that's shaking, maybe the clue?
It was a symbol now. It turned into a rune.
The peak of the tornado. Jump lightly to land on the adjacent tornado.
Those words flashed briefly in his mind. He followed it through and through. The instructions worked. The rune had turned back to a symbol, the cherry blossom.
Evolution of some kind? Random lucky chance?
This time, he didn't see the blossom but the symbol. The process repeated again. The next few jumps, nothing. Some kind of triggering process? Maybe not. It starts with runes now. Jumping through more tornadoes.
Now there are two doors. Close maybe?
One, if you're satisfied, then the dream is over. If not, the dream is over, but the evolution of something close to your heart?
Wait, the doors were fake? In fact, there's only one door offering both options? Is there a choice? Was something else being tested? Without trust, nothing is gained. Trust is required. Something gained, some benefited, regardless big or small.
I'll trust it. Let's go.
More laughter in the head, similar to before. The heart is gripped, the brain, the soul. It cleanses and rebirths. It is bored. Puzzles, solving, solution. Teaching, lots of it. The eyes can see, and thoughts are clear. Not a lesson, nor a test, but a talk. Advice.
Turning around, damage escalators. Mostly broken. Jumped to areas that weren't. Rotation, hesitation? Trust and confidence are pulled and tempered. The crucial piece is still missing. Not danger, but something else.
Climbing the stairs but never reaching the top. The foot is moving correctly, but the body isn't. The body is leading, but the legs don't care. Without a brain, the direction is misguided and lost. What is the point of the leg? What is the point of going up the stairs? Why not go down instead? Down is wrong, but why is up, right?
This crucial point, I'm also there. What should the last piece be? A desire to go upstairs, but what is the desire? What triggers the desire?
Sleep? Study? Entertainment? Getting closer, but still not there. Wait, can it be? So simple. The final push cannot be made here. It is felt, isn't lost. Wake up. Wake up, and it will come in like a tidal wave. Don't let go of the feeling.
As the thought appeared, it disappeared quickly, the world fading. He woke from his slumber, a long dream. He yawned just as the door to the room opened. An elder walked in, looking at him with curiosity. The elder later paced around the room, looking at random spots.
"Elder, what's going on?" Sikhail asked.
"Oh, nothing. I just felt that something was weird, but it seems everything is fine," the elder replied with a smile. "Why is your battle-suit black-red but shiny like a diamond now?".
He was startled, realizing the dream was real. His lips curled into a smile.
"I discovered a color change feature and liked this color schema better," Sikhail explained.
"How did you even know where to look," the elder replied, dumbfounded.
"I randomly chanced upon it," Sikhail commented.
The elder nodded, his expression becoming more serious.
"I suspect that April's admirers are quite… determined to win her back. I apologize for the inconvenience," the elder said with a bitter smile.
"No need to apologize. If they're capable, they'll convince April using their personal ability. If they're not, I'm no pushover," Sikhail nodded understandingly.