Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 59: Crossed Line

Dylan tried to push his thoughts away to stay focused on their path.

Before they left, Élisa had suggested cutting off a piece of meat from the creature, but honestly... he doubted his teeth would survive such a challenge. That thing had the consistency of reinforced concrete.

They retraced their steps and reached the cave — where, of course, the orc had left its stinking crap as a parting gift.

"I’ll kill that bastard," he muttered, stepping toward the entrance.

He slowed down. The opening wasn’t wide enough for large creatures, but smaller ones could easily slip through.

If the forest had taught him anything, it was to always expect the unexpected.

He didn’t wait long. He dashed in, fast, and gestured for the others to follow.

Inside, their shelter looked exactly as they’d left it. The rocky walls surrounded a half-burnt pile of wood, now covered in ashes.

A few bones from their last meal were still lying around, and their belongings leaned against the wall, untouched.

Dylan nodded, relieved. He sat on a flat spot, pulled the anima gem from his pocket, and let out a long sigh.

Not from pain. Just exhaustion.

Nearby, Élisa was helping Maggie lean against the wall. She let out a painful groan as she slumped down, breathless.

"Feels like I’m seeing her like this a lot lately..." Dylan raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "It’s becoming almost a habit."

It was strange. A feeling he never thought he’d have about his commander — the symbol of discipline, rigor, and the military professionalism he’d clung to since the start.

Seeing her like this, weakened, suffering... it cracked the perfect image he had of her.

An image forged from rigid, almost sacred principles.

But whatever. Perfect or not, he couldn’t care less right now. There were more pressing issues.

Like that growing frustration — that void inside him ever since he saw Maggie fight.

Watching her wield her spiritual essence with such mastery had reignited something inside him. A raw craving.

He wanted to reach that height too.

Not for glory or anything like that, just for himself — to satisfy his own selfish desires.

He looked down at the anima gem in his hand.

It pulsed softly, as if it were breathing. A discreet beat, almost imperceptible, but echoing through his fingers, his arm... his mind.

There was something hypnotic about it. It wasn’t just a shiny stone. It felt alive.

Or at least, it gave that impression.

And the more he stared at it, the more he felt it — like it was calling out to him.

Dylan gripped it tighter.

Part of him just wanted to crush it. Break the thing that was churning his gut, awakening desires he’d rather ignore.

But the other... the other part clung to it desperately.

He was sick of feeling left behind. Of relying on others, of being the weak link, the one people protect — or overlook.

He wanted to know.

To understand what it felt like to let it merge with him. To open that door leading to his soul.

It was still a vague concept to him. He could sense it, yes, but faintly. Subtly.

And deep down, he knew he’d eventually do it.

It was just a matter of time.

So he made his choice.

Without another thought, he closed his eyes... and let the gem enter him.

It wasn’t a dramatic moment. No blinding light, no mystical wind shaking the cave.

No. Just a sensation.

A dull warmth at first. Like lukewarm water flowing through his veins. Then a sharper tingling, electric, rising up his arm.

His breath hitched for a second.

His mind plunged — literally. Like he had fallen into a bottomless well, pulled toward an invisible core buried deep inside him.

No more cave. No companions. Just that vast void... and the spiritual essence.

It was there, floating in the nothingness, pulsing, alive. And it spoke to him.

Not with words.

With images. Sensations. Instincts.

He felt it like a roar, the edge of a blade, like a bite... like a push forward.

Dylan felt his heart pound harder, his skin shiver, his soul crack open. The filaments of spiritual essence were scratching at the door.

And he... he let them in.

The essence seeped into him like a river pouring through dunes of sand.

Dylan felt his body welcome it... eagerly.

It was strange — like something inside him had been waiting for this all along. Every fiber, every muscle, every corner of his being opened to receive it.

Not with pain. Not with fear.

But with a calm hunger.

A shiver ran down his spine. The essence wasn’t just flowing through him — it was searching, testing, probing the limits of what he was.

It brushed against his flaws. Amplified his doubts. Awakened his buried desires.

And still, he didn’t flinch.

He stayed, immersed in that rising tide, as something deep within him began to change.

His thoughts unraveled.

His very identity stretched, reshaped under the pressure.

But it wasn’t a loss. It was a shedding.

Dylan realized at that precise moment that he would never be the same.

There was no turning back.

He had already chosen to cross the line. No hesitation. No regret.

He had made a vow. A silent oath, screamed into the void of his soul:

To cast off all weakness.

To erase everything that made his existence... pitiful.

So, he embraced the essence.

He didn’t submit to it. He guided it. Invited it to spread, to explore every inch of who he was.

And when it touched his soul — truly touched it — he felt it.

A strange warmth, almost gentle, but piercing. A sacred burn.

And with it, his soul began to vibrate.

It sharpened, condensed, as if finally taking shape... mass... presence.

He wasn’t just there anymore.

He was.

Sharper. More anchored in reality.

Like, for the first time, the world could really see him.

Inside his body, the essence didn’t just circulate.

It searched, explored, and sometimes it clawed at the walls of his consciousness like a starving beast.

But it wasn’t there to destroy him. On the contrary — it was reshaping him, over and over, into a more perfect version.

The filaments, at first scattered and chaotic, began to weave a network.

Like a nervous system, yet also like vessels — conduits helping the spiritual essence flow.

Dylan could almost see them, dancing beneath his skin, snaking through his muscles, his bones, and warming his soul.

Each filament vibrated at its own rhythm, but they all converged toward a single point —

a center beneath his chest where all the essence pooling in his body was condensing.

It was becoming heavy — heavy enough to make him shiver. A throbbing heat that intensified the more the filaments gathered and fused with it.

He didn’t understand all of it. It was abstract, strange, but visceral.

It was there, deep in his chest.

Not physical. Not organic either.

But real.

The point pulsed faintly at first, like a hesitant heart.

Then, as the filaments aligned, it grew stronger.

He felt one beat.

Then another.

And soon, a steady rhythm — deep, almost absolute.

He could feel it — that thing, inside him, was both him... and something else.

The beginning of a bond.

The birth of a force.

He hadn’t tried to create it.

It had formed naturally, as a consequence of his choice.

And now, it burned softly inside him.