Leaning at the edge of his seat,
hunched over the "L"-shaped desk, Rue laser-focused his attention on the task at hand.
With hands as still as a surgeon's, Rue gingerly pinched one side of the printer paper and brought it to the opposite side. Using his off hand, he pressed down on the paper, folding it vertically down the middle.
Returning the printer paper to its original bearings—spread fully on the desk's surface—Rue cracked his knuckles and, with a preparatory flick of his wrist, smirked, eyeing the paper canvas before him.
The world of the imagination was limitless.
Within the mind's escape, you could do anything.
Manifest anything.
Create anything.
A person could create an imaginary world—moreover, one that followed their every desire.
Do you want to indulge your cardinal cravings and fuck so-and-so?
Then you can.
If lust doesn't entice you, then how about becoming the protagonist of your own story?
Then you could become that tropey, edgy, black-haired guy isekaied in medieval Europe.
In your mind, you could do just that.
You could do anything, be anything.
In essence, you were a figurative god.
Albeit a god that possessed a false form of omnipotence.
The limits were only bound to your imagination.
However, the stark reality of it was that these constructions of the imagination were finite.
They were fake!
In reality, you were you—whoever that may be.
The usage of the imagination was unfortunately not as limitless in the physical plane.
A person was restricted in a similar way that they were with their imagination.
It was determined on what you knew.
What skills did you possess?
If a person exceptional only in woodworking imagined a robust machine they wanted to create, then they wouldn't be able to act on this impulse.
They simply lacked the skills to make the machine.
And the analogy could be used in reverse.
***
Using his exceptional origami skills, Rue began to gently wrangle the flat form of the paper, folding it in a sequence set by himself to create what he had imagined.
After several minutes of ginger movement, he had done it!
Well… kinda.
Scrunching his brow in utter confusion, Rue looked at the mess of haphazardly folded paper before him.
The thing he had intended to make was a dragon.
However, this 'dragon' looked more like a pitiful crab than anything.
The desk's surface was covered to the brim with similar paper monstrosities.
Some were crumpled into balls, others were tossed to the ground out of frustration, and the few that looked decent were kept on the desk right next to the pile of crumpled paper.
Rue frowned, bearing witness to the fruits of his labor born from his lack of skill.
Leaning slouched back into his seat, he held his newly folded creation up into the light.
Scrutinizing the pitiful 'crab' for some seconds, Rue shrugged, tossing the paper behind him.
In a mechanical movement of his arm, Rue reached out toward the desk to grab another piece of printer paper.
He could always try again—
"FUCKING COWARDLY BASTARD!!!!"
Rue's arm paused, halted midway between himself and the desk.
"SHOW YOURSELF, YOU FUCKER!!!"
Loudly screamed the voice of a desperate man, seeking recourse by venting.
Hearing the loud yelling clear from his temporary office on the ninth floor, Rue scratched the back of his head.
"He's finally near, huh?" he exclaimed, wide-eyed.
That was faster than he had anticipated.
After several seconds of mental jargon, Rue shrugged dismissively, a small mocking smirk playing on his face.
His eyes narrowed, gleaming with previously hidden cunning.
What did it matter?
Sure, Rue had two rail guns, and with enough luck, planning, and—of course—effort, he could pull off a sneak attack on Minho, which would, in turn, guarantee his win.
But why would he do that?
Why would he put forth so much effort toward winning when, in all honesty, he wanted to lose the First Trial and win the second?
Rue recalled the council head's words.
'The Third Trial is primarily a tiebreaker—meant only to be used if each participant wins one of the first two.'
And Livia's avid sentiment against the Third Trial.
Livia had wanted him to win the first two preliminary rounds so he could avoid entering the Third Trial—or, in other words, to avoid stepping into the Border Lands.
The Border Lands
A place that apparently roused angst at their mere mention.
…
Rue had grown enticed by them ever since Livia had explained them.
To think such a place existed, where beasts were by design cultivated until the cusp of advancement before being thrown into a relatively large island full of similarly powerful beasts.
While maddening, he wanted to go there for several reasons.
The first and foremost reason being an impression of sorts.
He wanted to obtain the favor of the Reigner house by displaying his strength, while subconsciously deepening his worth within Livia's mind.
Livia's current opinion of Rue was held in high regard.
To her Rue was an extremely—LIKE, really—talented practitioner.
However, that was the extent of her knowledge.
She didn't know the extent of Rue's strength, the combat style he worked well with, his strengths, his weaknesses, or other elementary facts about her disciple.
As Livia had once said, she was an extremely surface-level bitch.
Rue was talented—that's why she wanted him as her disciple.
Nothing more, nothing less..
In her eyes, that was his worth.
Rue was able to siphon out some information and deduce as much after getting to understand Livia's personality better.
And his second reason?
It was simple.
He just wanted to grow stronger.
Rue was already terrifyingly strong for someone merely in the Fourth Destination.
Even with his Initial crippled and his body weakened to that of an early Practitioner—his strength essentially being cut by 83%—Rue was still able to fight evenly with a mid-Fourth Destination beast.
Outside of the Trial's simulation, Rue was an insanely old late-Practitioner by choice.
After all, Rue wanted to reach the absolute LIMIT of the Fourth Destination before reaching the Fifth.
It was either this, or his natural longevity running out—forcing him to advance prematurely to his goal.
Rue still had a little less than a century before he would have to worry about that.
Nonetheless, the only way Rue could grow stronger than his current self would be to forcibly expedite his growth.
This was his second reason for going to the Border Lands.
Fighting beasts in such a setting would not only increase his battle strength exponentially, but force his cognitive abilities into an overdrive of sorts.
Rue would forcibly enter himself into the zone—as known by athletes—or the Ultra Instinct state known by martial artists.
During this state, Rue's concentration would reach levels previously impossible, allowing him to understand the intricacies of his body that would otherwise only be possible at a higher Destination.
His body was still a canvas full of potential.
Potential that he had yet to tap.
This was the type of person Rue was.
This was his path.