Devrok sat cross-legged atop the cold stone floor, his bare skin in contact with the smooth, chilled surface. His brows were relaxed, and his breath flowed like a gentle tide—steady, rhythmic, unhurried.
The dim light of the room flickered with the slow burn of a spiritual lantern overhead. Shadows danced faintly along the walls, mirroring the rise and fall of Devrok's chest as he entered a meditative trance.
The most vital step before merging with a Beast core was achieving complete mental stillness—no stray thoughts, no lingering emotions.
If even a thread of chaos lingered in the mind, the residual wrath, fear, or madness within the beast core could easily take root, destabilizing the fusion… or worse.
A single misstep, and everything could be lost.
