For the sixth time in a row, Greem failed to cast the spell.

Despite his stubborn doubt at the very real and foreign memories in his mind, they still offered him insight on why all his attempts had failed so far.

And none of them was because he'd hijacked the body he currently inhabited half an hour ago. It was all due to his doubt… and lack of focus.

His rebirth into this new, younger form had been seamless and perfect, just as described and promised by his "benefactor."

There were no headaches from the rush of his predecessor's memories. No confusing clash of identities either. Just a deep seated sense of becoming… more.

Joseph Nkunim was his original name. But that guy was dead. That's how he ended up here in the first place.

He was now Greem. And he should have been able to complete the 5-7 second spellcasting process as though he'd done it a thousand times before… because he had.

Feeling rather annoyed at his repeated failed attempts, Greem uttered a deep sigh and shut his trembling eyelids.

He was afraid.

He'd descended, in the flesh, into one of the worst realities he'd read about… by choice.

When you were a young disembodied soul, life, even if it was to continue in a nightmarish hellscape, didn't seem so bad. Especially when the gifts like the one currently clutched in his right hand were attached.

Fortunately or unfortunately(depends on how you see it), the perfect assimilation of memories also gave him a front row seat to what was in store for him.

To say he was horrified would be an understatement.

Luckily for him though, he had something to help him along. Greem however didn't believe things were so bright and dandy.

True, the recent influx of valuable experiences and skills were like huge reality stamps that confirmed the validity of his benefactor's words and his current situation.

But a part of him, big enough to stop him from downing the golden contents of the vial in his grip, doubted with every ounce of its strength that things were so easy and simple.

There had to be a trick somewhere. Some sort of sick joke the entity had primed to erupt the moment he ingested the essence.

That's why he was trying to cast the spell. To confirm that he indeed was in a world where magic was real. That he'd become someone capable of using said magic. That this wasn't some hoax.

Opening his eyes for the second time today, he shelved his disruptive and doubtful side temporarily and gave in to the recently assimilated experiences.

With a heart and mind as calm and still as a lake, he manipulated the tangible spiritual force emanating from his head in an intimately familiar way as the accompanying chants rolled off his eager tongue.

Right as the 5 second mark arrived and rolled by, the congregation of red elementium particles that had gathered around his exposed and outstretched left hand wrapped it and transformed into bright orange, writhing, flowing flames.

Excitement of an indescribable nature, mixed with subtle hints of fear and disbelief, shone through Greem's wide, trembling eyes.

Magic was really real. He'd actually done it.

The fear accompanied by the high temperature flames clinging to bare skin faded by the second, their inability to hurt him made apparent by his newly acquired knowledge and the fact he wasn't screaming his ass off.

The Burning Hand spell covered the user's (you guessed it) hand in flames that burned at about 130 degrees celsius, leaving them none the worse for wear. Not only could this spell be used to attack someone in a melee, an adept could also–

Standing up abruptly from the thin bed he woke up on, Greem directed his torch hand towards the stone wall a few feet away and gave the flames a simple hint with his Spirit.

His hand turned into a mini flamethrower as a wide-ish stream of fire erupted from it and rushed towards the grey wall, roasting it and filling the room with smoke.

In less than 3 seconds, the source of the flames were extinguished, his unblemished pale hand exposed to the air once more.

'That… was crazy…' Greem thought as he looked at his hand like he was going to eat it.

As someone with earth's mundane sensibilities, he was struggling not to dismiss the act he just performed as a hallucination. His conflicted yet excited gaze moved from his hand to the blackened section of the wall to the uncapped vial in his right hand.

Once again, setting eyes on the thing filled his head with information about it. Information that matched everything he and the entity, he would like to say, discussed, but it was more meekly accepting whatever the former said.

Because had he not, he would be well and truly fucked without the current and promised gifts.

And so keeping his eyes on the faint golden luminescence shining through the glass, Greem let himself digest just what he was about to ingest.

It didn't take long. One minute was all it took for him to become enlightened on just what he'd be getting if he took the damned step.

The Essence of the Hercules Method.

By going against his better judgement and dowing the vial's contents, he'd gain knowledge on a supernatural method of body strengthening.

To keep things short, once he gained mastery in it, not only would he evolve into the most perfect specimen of the male species in terms of appearance and strength, he'd be able to heal from most forms of damage, be unaging, and require no form of sustenance, be it food, air, or water.

Greem was skeptical about the regeneration and sustenance aspect considering the strict laws of his new magical reality.

However, the entity's assurance of the fiat-backed nature of the essences assuaged his doubts somewhat. They would work as intended regardless of this reality's potent laws.

Looking at the golden essence with hunger burning in his irises, Greem found the walls built by his doubtful side crumbling like legos.

So what if he was supposed to stick to the Body-Refining path? If he was going to receive essences like this after every advancement, he had nothing to complain about.

Screw the spellcasting path.

As for any possible tricks left in the essence, there was only one way to find out wasn't there?

Nearly salivating, he gulped the vial's contents in one smooth motion, the golden warmth travelling down his gullet and branching out into his extremities.

A bit overwhelmed by its effects, he staggered back and plopped onto the bed butt-first, his eyes and blood vessels faintly glowing the essence's gold.

 ☀☀☀​

30 minutes… that's how long it took Greem to come down from the essence's high, go to the canteen, and come to terms with his new life. Somewhat.

Finding a lack of tissues or napkins, he licked his lips as best he could and went to his personal bathroom to clean his hands, stifling a burp as he did so.

After the essence did its essencing, he wanted to dive into the training immediately. However, the instructions in the method advised that he have a proper, filling meal before he started.

He wasn't like regular people–at least not anymore after drinking the miraculous substance.

In addition to the technical know-how and the eventual infinite well of power, he'd been given a one in a million talent for the method—Luther Strode's strange talent.

From what little he could remember, Luther Strode was a prodigy of prodigies when it came to the method. He took weeks to achieve levels of power and mastery other practitioners took decades and possibly centuries to obtain.

'Thank goodness I don't have to train that long…' Greem thought as he took his shirt off and plopped down at the foot of his bed.

He assumed a comfortable meditative position and closed his eyes, delving into the beginning instructions of the supernatural technique.

'The key to the Hercules Method is to focus your mind, spirit and body towards one goal. By bringing all three into alignment, the physical enthusiast can bring all of them under conscious control. Such control is the key to change. Extraordinary change.'

'First step, visualize.'

Seated comfortably with his chest exposed, Greem breathed in and out, his mind entering a strange, ultra-focused state.

The first step in the method was to visualize. Visualize what to be exact?

Your body! Your muscles, bones, nerves and even cells.

One had to picture their own anatomy down to the smallest unit they could muster. Without completing this step, an interested practitioner could never proceed on to the next.

For normal humans, creating a mental image of your fleshy insides might be a morbid and nearly impossible task. But for Greem, whose predecessor had cultivated a modicum of Spirit before passing, this proved to be just slightly difficult.

All he needed to do was focus his spiritual sense inward instead of outward like he did when he cast the spell earlier.

By sending the tendrils of invisible energy into his body and weaving them around, a precise and clear image of his insides slowly formed in his mind.

The moment he completed the image, something inside him changed. He gained a sudden, explosive awareness of… everything.

His small pinkish lungs that hid behind his white~yellow~red ribcage, slowly expanding and contracting like brown paper bags being blown into.

Electrical impulses shot up and down his body, his spine alight like a highway with heavy traffic on a dark night.

Vibrant red blood flowed through his various tissues, snaking in multiple streams as it rushed through the appropriate vessels.

Even the body-wide, tiny muscular contractions that produced heat couldn't escape his senses.

The experience was jarring to say the least. That's why his concentration faltered the moment he entered this "internal world," causing multiple sections of the image he held in his mind to flicker unsteadily.

The strange world followed suit, appearing and disappearing to his senses like he'd just walked into a room with a faulty light.

Noting that his triggered emotions and disrupted focus were the reason for this, Greem went through the prior motions he used to enter the ultra-focused state and regained his calm shortly.

This stabilized the image in his mind, and hence, the nascent connection to his inner world.

Steeling himself and taking things slow this time, he explored the fleshy world bit by bit, taking time to just observe and adjust to the new and unique sensations.

Once he felt comfortable and confident enough, he focused on the next step in the method; control.

The Hercules Method harped heavily on control as its ultimate purpose and end goal. However, in order to control something, you first need to perceive it.

The visualization solved this issue.

By successfully conjuring and maintaining the mental image, one forms a faux sense of their anatomy and moves on to step two: performing the strange exercises, weird poses, and breathing patterns, all the while keeping the mental image intact.

The movements were basic exercises that targeted the various muscle groups while the strange poses and unusual breathing patterns simulated the harder to reach parts of the human anatomy like the glands and nerves.

By successfully completing these first two steps, the last and final thing to do was "command" the current body part being concentrated on (in the visualization and the exercise) to grow stronger.

Basically, imagine it growing stronger. That is all the method entailed.

Choosing to trust in the absurdity of this entire endeavor, Greem maintained his seat on the ground and just brought both hands together, pressing them together in a devout manner.

To accompany and complete this action, he held and released his breath at specific intervals, his mind sinking further into his inner world and the technique.

Long before he completed this exercise, he noticed a sudden spike in activity at certain locations in his body, namely his brain and some of his glands. He took that as a cue to quit hesitating and quickly slipped into the next form.

His concentration did not falter for even a split-second. His eyes remained shut as he stood up and began to wave his arms and body about in tai chi-like motions.

His movements were clumsy, but that didn't matter. They achieved their purpose.

In this deeply focused manner where the outside world lost meaning, Greem went through all the physical motions and exercises achievable with his current physique, a light sheen sweat gathering on his exposed skin due to the effort.

The sweat droplets began to accumulate and drip into the stone floor as he started to practice the exercises from the top again, helplessly drunk on the sensation of growing stronger.

He couldn't help himself. The newly formed sense of his internal world allowed him to sense in accurate detail the exact changes being wrought by his actions.

They were unbelievably tiny and spread out all over his body, but he was undeniably improving. That much was undoubtedly clear.

This spurred him on, his awareness of the outside world slipping into nonexistence as he trained to his heart's content.