Though when Frank was a soul being, rest had never been a necessity. He would pause from time to time, but not because his energy was depleted or his survival depended on it. Instead, he rested out of boredom, to meditate, or simply to take his mind off the endless monotony of existence. Now, however, everything was different. Rest was no longer optional—it was vital. His human body demanded it, and his survival hinged on it. Each moment of stillness carried weight, each breath of recovery felt essential. For the first time, Frank understood that rest was not indulgence but necessity, a fragile lifeline that kept him tethered to life.
As Frank lay resting, enjoying the rhythm of oxygen flowing into his lungs and nourishing his blood, a sudden dryness crept across his lips. His throat felt parched, and then the realization struck—he was hungry. Yet this was no ordinary hunger. It was a ravenous, consuming emptiness, a hunger so fierce it felt as though he could devour the entire world. The sensation clawed at him, primal and overwhelming, threatening to strip away reason. It took every measure of his willpower to resist the urge to blight the ground or chew the sticks scattered around him. The need to eat pressed against his mind with relentless urgency, demanding immediate satisfaction. Frank felt as though he could not waste a single moment on anything else—his body screamed for food, and the hunger was absolute.
Worse yet, Frank's meditative skill granted him heightened awareness. His senses were sharpened to the point of torment—he was acutely alert to every sound in his surroundings, while at the same time he could feel the faint currents of energy flowing into his body. His stomach twisted and churned, hollow and collapsing in on itself, desperate to fulfill its purpose of providing strength. His mouth was dry, his gums cracked, his legs ached with relentless pain, and his bare skin begged for moisture as it continued to parch beneath the jungle air. Most troubling of all, his brain—the very organ alerting him to these changes—was itself starving, deprived of the sustenance it needed to function. The hunger was not just physical; it was total, gnawing at every fiber of his being, threatening to unravel him from within.
Frank tried desperately to shut his meditative skill off, but it was no ordinary ability—it was sentient. Though he had some measure of control, it refused to be silenced as easily as flicking a light switch. The skill pulsed within him, alive, demanding attention. Realizing the futility of fighting it, Frank shifted his approach. Instead of wasting energy trying to suppress it, he chose to filter out the unnecessary sensations flooding his mind. He focused on reducing the strain his brain endured, narrowing his awareness to the feelings that truly mattered—those that told him precisely what was happening inside his body and how to fix it. In that moment, Frank transformed his torment into clarity, wielding his skill not as a burden but as a tool for survival.
Of course, the unnecessary feelings didn't simply vanish because Frank filtered them out. They lingered at the edges of his mind, not in the spotlight but as grim whispers, constant reminders that the longer he delayed, the more precious time slipped away. Yet this time, Frank forced himself to narrow his awareness, focusing only on two things that mattered most: the amount of physical energy still within his body, and the faint stream of energy flowing back into him. Using his enhanced senses, he sharpened his concentration, directing it toward the urgent task of survival. He tuned himself to the rhythms of his hunger, searching for signs of good, healthy food that could fill the emptiness in his stomach and restore his strength. In that moment, his meditation became not just discipline, but a compass guiding him toward life.
Soon, a sweet fragrance filled Frank's nose, guiding him toward the scent of blooming flowers and ripened fruits. Unable to contain his hunger, he shot forward like a bolt of lightning, using his nose as a compass to lead him toward what promised to be a hearty meal. Yet the path was far from easy. The forest was riddled with obstacles—fallen branches, tangled roots, streams and pools that divided the land like barriers. Each step demanded effort, and his weakened body reminded him constantly of its fragile state. His mind, too, was a battlefield, plagued by distractions: the gnawing hunger twisting his insides and the relentless fear that the soul beings of Darkovia might soon arrive to reclaim him. Still, driven by desperation, Frank pressed onward, each stride fueled by the hope of survival and the promise of food.
Frank pressed on, and soon he arrived at the place where the fragrance had led him. Drawn by the sweet aroma, he glanced around eagerly, searching for the source. His abject hunger betrayed him—drool pooled at the corner of his mouth, saliva dripping as his gaze shot upward.
There, hanging above him, were three green fruits. They were larger than apples, yet more perfectly circular than coconuts, their skins glowing with ripeness that surpassed even the brightest orange.
They could have been grapefruits, avocados, or even star fruits—any number of species—but Frank didn't care. Quite frankly, he had no desire to find out. In that moment, the fruits were not objects of curiosity or classification; they were salvation, the answer to the gnawing emptiness inside him.
The fragrance of the fruits was intoxicating, and Frank's stomach rumbled too violently for him to care about anything else. His eyes darted around until he spotted a long stick nearby—something he could use to force the juicy treasures from the tree.
The plan was simple: knock them down, gather them, wash them, and devour them. Fortune favored him, for the ideal stick turned out to be one of the very branches belonging to the same tree that bore the fruits. Without wasting a moment, Frank seized the branch, his hands trembling with anticipation, and aimed it upward.
He thrust at the fruits again and again, each strike echoing his desperation. Finally, with a satisfying snap, the first of the green fruits dropped to the forest floor, rolling gently across the earth like a gift from the heavens.