Bennan fell back onto his bed. Sweat soaked his shirt and clung to his face. He felt drained in a way he never had before, as if his body simply could not endure activating his Aspect again.
He had continued testing it for nearly two hours. In the end, he uncovered several more limitations of his dormant ability.
Though powerful, it was far from perfect.
First, his body could only store a limited amount of force before the strain became painful. He was careful not to push past that threshold, Bennan suspected that doing so would tear his muscles apart.
Second, he could only activate the ability once every two seconds. The interval was precise — which likely meant there was no simple way around it.
Third, his dormant ability seemed to use nearly no essence. But his body would sometimes naturally sap it to protect his internal structure from his aspect.
Lastly, he could not release small portions of stored force, nor could he channel it into a single limb. Though he had the distinct feeling these were not immutable law of his Aspect.
He stared at the cracked grey ceiling as his eyes slowly began to close. Though he had technically just woken, the end of his nightmare had been long and grueling. The mental strain, combined with the exhaustion of pushing his body to its limits and draining his essence, dragged him under.
Soon, he was snoring.
When his eyes opened again, the room had changed. The faint buzzing was gone, leaving only familiar darkness.
Cursing under his breath, he ran a hand along the top of his bedside table until his fingers found the lighter. He struck it and guided the small flame toward the candle.
Those bastards broke it already?
He sighed. He didn't know how to fix the electricity himself — who was he to criticize? It was possible they had only powered it long enough to deliver the message.
Standing, he threw an evaluating punch.
He was still shaking off the drowsyness but his body felt refreshed.
Taking a stance, he prepared for another long day of testing his abilities.
⸻
Bennan stretched his tired muscles.
Not being able to think of any more tests to run, he simply practiced using his Aspect. He kept careful track of his essence, not wanting to drain it completely.
He wasn't quite sure how long the strange energy took to replenish so he didn't wanna go below a quarter of it.
I'm not quite sure how my aspect stacks up against others but it seems pretty strong.
He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
As long as he was careful, he should survive the next Nightmare.
"I should probably stuff myself with as much synth paste as I can. If it runs longer than the last one, I don't want to starve out here."
He yawned exaggeratedly as he dug through his belongings. His hand paused halfway to his face.
For a brief second, it blurred, the edges of his fingers blending together before snapping back into focus.
His eyes widened.
Damn. I thought they said I had until tonight.
He moved faster, grabbing the scattered tubes of the vile paste and gulping them down.
His movements began to slow.
Had he really slept that long?
His knees hit the concrete. His vision dimmed at the edges as he looked around desperately, searching for something — anything — else he could do too prepare
The candlelight flickered wildly, stretching thin against the wall.
He swayed and toppled forward, landing face-first on the dusty floor.
Through closing eyes, he watched the flame shrink.
Shit.
I forgot to blow out that candle.
The cool touch of the concrete disappeared.