As Alex continued his exploration of mental stimulation methods, he made an important decision: from now on, he would always opt to use the Cognichip whenever he sought to stimulate tasks requiring precision and accuracy. Although his time spent in this heightened state was limited due to the restrictions of his mental strength, the clarity and reliability it provided were unmatched. In contrast, the unlimited duration he had with mental strength stimulation came with the trade-off of unpredictability. The more he reflected on this, the more he recognized the need for balance between the two approaches.
With a notebook in hand, Alex jotted down his observations. He wrote, "Cognichip stimulation yields accuracy and depth that mental strength stimulation cannot provide. Though I can use the latter indefinitely, the flaws in my understanding can lead to inaccurate outcomes. I must always prioritize clarity when tackling complex tasks."
This realization quickly reshaped his training, and he began dividing his approach between these two distinct strengths.
Flowstrike, his personal technique created long ago, was a mix of Tai Chi and meditation that synchronized his mind and body in a continuous, flowing movement. It had always been his way to center himself, but after discovering the hidden code changes after practice he'd wondered if it could be a gateway to something more. Could other forms add a new dimension to it, deepen his insights? He decided to branch out and test combinations, starting with physical variations—balance, agility, strength—all while observing the effects on his hidden code.
Flowstrike became his warm-up, a familiar sequence to get him into the right frame of mind. From there, he moved on to exercises that challenged different aspects of his control, like reflex training or endurance. Each routine revealed something unique, each slight variation seemed to unlock a different response from his body. It wasn't just physical, though—Alex was keenly aware that every shift in focus, every change in his breathing, subtly impacted his inner processes. By the end of each session, he'd record any insights into his notebook, filling page after page with observations on how these minor adjustments altered his hidden code.
He experimented with what he called energy forms, exercises designed to engage both mental concentration and physical force in specific ways. These forms became small cultivation techniques of their own, each targeting different qualities—awareness, resilience, quickness. Through these drills, he began to see how he might build a broader system of techniques beyond just Flowstrike. The subtleties fascinated him, and he found himself constantly tweaking details, exploring how slight shifts in stance or timing changed the results.
The interplay between his exercises and his hidden code felt almost rhythmic. Some sessions brought slight but definite improvements, a smoother flow in his movements or a sharper sense of focus. Other times, he'd repeat a sequence only to notice an unexpected ripple effect, a change in his concentration or a new sensation in his code. He started documenting these changes, trying to capture how each form interacted with his evolving abilities, and soon his notes were detailed enough to track subtle patterns. It was like mapping out a path across an unfamiliar terrain, each entry illuminating another step forward.
On days when he pushed a particular form, layering it with meditation, he'd sense a clearer shift—his code reacting, sometimes aligning just a bit differently, almost as if testing its own response to each exercise. Each variation added to his understanding of how his physical actions affected his code, creating a kind of feedback loop. Flowstrike remained his anchor, but now he was building a structured system around it, a gradual layering of exercises that expanded his practice without abandoning its core.
As his technique collection grew, he began to see the potential in each form, the way each could strengthen an aspect of his mind or body if developed further. And in the margins of his notebook, he jotted down small observations—about the hidden code's responses, the patterns, the areas where improvement seemed most noticeable. Each form, each routine became a piece of a larger puzzle, offering a new perspective or a hint of something unexplored.
It struck him that the entire process was slowly weaving together a complex, multi-layered practice, each form feeding into the others. And yet, there were still variables, still unanswered questions—