His focus shifted. He did not dare deplete his free-flowing energy, so instead he attempted to forcibly undo his transformation. He tried to deconstruct his altered form, stripping away the mirror world’s influence and reduce his body to something built only from his original energy. It was an audacious effort.
The foreign energy was woven into his new existence like tendrils of smoke that had infiltrated every corner of a room nearly void of breathable air. Yves felt as if he was trying to breathe just these faint traces of air that had not been enough to begin with, that were insufficient to sustain life, without inhaling any smoke.
The struggle was suffocating, the process seemingly suicidal.
It was senseless
and downright stupid.
With each
futile attempt,
Yves realised
He could
not
do it.
He needed
to stop
and breathe
the smoke.
He conceded
to the inevitable.
He couldn’t strip away
the mirror world energy,
couldn’t reject
the essence that now
intertwined with his very being,
couldn’t resist
the transformative tide
that had already claimed him.
The mirror world energies
had intertwined with his existence.
Depleting himself from the only force
that now held his ethereal existence together
meant destroying himself,
ripping himself apart from within.
And as he caught
his metaphorical breath,
he realised that his existence now
had become akin
to that of one of the most petty races in his world.
Humans, a primitive and mortal race,
sustained themselves solely through food and drink. Unlike wizards, they could not absorb world energies.
His focus shifted. He did not dare deplete his free-flowing energy, so instead he attempted to forcibly undo his transformation. He tried to deconstruct his altered form, stripping away the mirror world’s influence and reduce his body to something built only from his original energy. It was an audacious effort.
The foreign energy was woven into his new existence like tendrils of smoke that had infiltrated every corner of a room nearly void of breathable air. Yves felt as if he was trying to breathe just these faint traces of air that had not been enough to begin with, that were insufficient to sustain life, without inhaling any smoke.
The struggle was suffocating, the process seemingly suicidal.
It was senseless
and downright stupid.
With each
futile attempt,
Yves realised
He could
not
do it.
He needed
to stop
and breathe
the smoke.
He conceded
to the inevitable.
He couldn’t strip away
the mirror world energy,
couldn’t reject
the essence that now
intertwined with his very being,
couldn’t resist
the transformative tide
that had already claimed him.
The mirror world energies
had intertwined with his existence.
Depleting himself from the only force
that now held his ethereal existence together
meant destroying himself,
ripping himself apart from within.
And as he caught
his metaphorical breath,
he realised that his existence now
had become akin
to that of one of the most petty races in his world.
Humans, a primitive and mortal race,
sustained themselves solely through food and drink. Unlike wizards, they could not absorb world energies.
His focus shifted. He did not dare deplete his free-flowing energy, so instead he attempted to forcibly undo his transformation. He tried to deconstruct his altered form, stripping away the mirror world’s influence and reduce his body to something built only from his original energy. It was an audacious effort.
The foreign energy was woven into his new existence like tendrils of smoke that had infiltrated every corner of a room nearly void of breathable air. Yves felt as if he was trying to breathe just these faint traces of air that had not been enough to begin with, that were insufficient to sustain life, without inhaling any smoke.
The struggle was suffocating,
the process
seemingly suicidal.
It was
senseless
and
downright stupid.
With each
futile attempt,
Yves realised
he could
not
do it.
He needed
to
stop
and breathe
the smoke.
He conceded
to the
inevitable.
He couldn’t strip away
the mirror world energy,
couldn’t reject
the essence that now
intertwined with
his very being,
couldn’t resist
the transformative tide
that had already
claimed him.
The mirror world energies
had intertwined
with his existence.
Depleting himself
from the only force
that now held
his ethereal existence together
meant destroying himself,
ripping himself apart
from within.
And as he caught
his metaphorical breath,
he realised that his existence now had become akin
to that of one of the most petty races in his world.
Humans,a primitive and mortal race, sustained themselves solely through food and drink. Unlike wizards, they could not absorb world energies.
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