Silence as council considered.
Finally, Min-ji spoke.
"We'll try it. Select best spatial candidate. You have three weeks recovery. Then test run. Success or failure would decide if we'll be speeding up training for the rest, or we'll keep going solo but with better medical help..."
"Agreed," Master Yoon said.
"Agreed," Jae-sung said reluctantly.
"Then meeting adjourned. Yoo—rest. We need you in good shape for testing."
The hologram disconnected.
One Week Later - Physical Therapy
Yoo sat in rehabilitation room, attempting basic Gi circulation.
The scarred pathways resisted. Energy moved sluggishly, painfully. Each circulation felt like dragging broken glass through his veins.
"Again," the therapist instructed. "Ten rotations. Slow and steady."
Yoo complied. By rotation seven, he was sweating. By ten, he nearly blacked out.
"Progress," the therapist noted. "You're at sixty percent efficiency. Improved from forty percent three days ago."
Sixty percent. Lost forty percent of my Gi circulation capacity. Permanently.
"Correction: current efficiency is sixty percent. But Adaptive Evolution is active. Your pathways are reconstructing using alternative routes. Estimated eventual recovery: seventy-five to eighty percent. Still significant loss, but survivable."
How long?
"Three to five weeks. Depending on continued therapy and rest."
The door opened. Seo-yeon entered, wearing training clothes.
"I heard you were cleared for light activity. Want to practice forms? Nothing strenuous. Just movement."
"I can barely circulate Gi."
"So we practice without Gi. Pure martial technique. You said I need to teach you fundamentals anyway."
Yoo considered. Sitting still was driving him insane. Movement would help mentally, even if body protested.
"Fine. But slow pace."
They moved through basic forms together. Punch, block, step, turn. Simple sequences that didn't require energy enhancement.
Yoo's little body moved awkwardly. Pathways too damaged to coordinate properly. He stumbled multiple times.
"Don't force it," Seo-yeon corrected. "Feel the movement. Let body remember."
Body has no memory. I was reincarnated. This body is eleven months old.
But he tried. Focused on sensation rather than technique. Gradually, coordination improved. Not good, but functional.
After thirty minutes, they stopped.
"You're terrible at this," Seo-yeon observed.
"I've been focused on spatial manipulation. Neglected physical training."
"It shows." She handed him water. "But you're trying. That matters. Most Iron-ranks would quit after damage like yours. You're still fighting."
"Because stopping means billions die."
"No. Stopping means you give up. The deaths happen regardless of your choice. You're choosing to fight because that's who you are." She met his eyes. "You're not doing this for humanity. You're doing it because not doing it would kill you worse than any rift could."
She's right. I can't stop. It's not nobility. It's compulsion.
"You're annoyingly perceptive for a nine-year-old."
"I'm Bronze 9 about to break through to Iron. And I read people better than I read books." She grinned. "Also, we're friends. Its almost impossible not to notice."
"Thanks. I think."
"You're welcome. Now rest. You look half-dead."
She left.
Yoo sat alone, processing.
She's right. I'm not heroic. I'm compulsive. Can't stop even when logic says I should.
"Accurate assessment. However, compulsion to continue is not negative trait. Determination and stubbornness have kept host alive through impossible situations. This is asset, not flaw."
Tell that to my destroyed Gi pathways.
"Your pathways are recovering. You survive. That is victory."
Yoo wasn't sure he agreed. But he didn't have energy to argue.
He returned to his room, slept. Dreamed of rifts and voids and scattering.
Woke up determined to continue anyway.
Sixty-one rifts. Maybe ten more closures in my body. Need to make them count.
Need to train others. Share the burden. Or die trying.
Literally.
Two Weeks Later - The Candidate
Master Yoon brought the first spatial candidate to meet Yoo.
Woman, mid-twenties physically, twenty-three chronologically. Silver rank 27. Named Hae-won. Core Surge survivor who'd manifested spatial affinity after awakening.
"This is him?" Hae-won studied Yoo skeptically. "The child who sealed two void rifts?"
"Yes," Master Yoon confirmed. "Yoo, this is Hae-won. Our best spatial candidate. Silver 27, three-year training history, natural talent for dimensional perception."
Yoo assessed her with Energy Sense. Her spatial affinity was real—he could feel how her energy interacted with space itself. But undeveloped. Raw.
"Can you feel dimensional boundaries?" Yoo asked.
"Sometimes. Like... tension in the air? Hard to describe."
"That's correct perception. Can you manipulate them?"
"Small scale. I can create temporary pockets. Five cubic meters maximum. Unstable, collapse after ten minutes."
Better than most. But nowhere near what's needed.
"Sealing a void rift requires stable dimensional manipulation at range. Maintaining complex patterns for thirty-plus minutes under extreme stress. You'd need months of training."
"I have three weeks," Hae-won said firmly. "Before next rift appears that needs closing. Teach me."
Yoo raised is hand in opposition.
"I'm recovering. Can't demonstrate physically."
"Then teach theoretically. I'll practice. We'll test before the mission."
Master Yoon nodded approval. "She's motivated. Lost her family to rift expansion. Volunteered immediately when we announced the program."
Another person shaped by loss. Another weapon forged from grief.
"Fine. We start tomorrow. Four hours daily. Spatial theory, dimensional perception exercises, Gi control practice. Be ready to work harder than you've ever worked."
"I'm ready."
She left with Master Yoon.
Jae-sung, who'd been observing silently, spoke.
"Can you actually teach her? In three weeks?"
"Probably not. But I have to try. If she can seal even one rift—that's one less on me. One less chance I erase."
"And if she fails the attempt?"
"Then she dies, and I continue solo." Yoo's voice was flat. "That's the reality. Someone has to close the rifts. Better we try with multiple people than rely solely on me."
"You sound like you're planning your own obsolescence."
"I'm planning for scenario where my body breaks before all rifts are sealed. If Hae-won can take over even five closures—that's five more than zero."
Jae-sung sat beside him. "I hate this. Hate watching you distribute death sentences like you're coordinating combat formations."
"Someone has to deal with the situation. Might as well be me."
"You're eleven months old."
"I'm twenty-nine mentally. And I've already died once. I'm working on borrowed life, makes perspective different." Yoo met his father's eyes. "I'm not being callous. I'm being realistic. We don't have time for softer approaches."
Jae-sung nodded slowly. "I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"You don't. You just have to accept it."
They sat in an awkward silence.
Outside, the world continued dying.
Inside, they planned how to save fragments of it.
Three weeks. Then we test if this works.
If it does: hope.
If it doesn't: another death on my conscience.
Add it to the pile.