Kaen stood alone in a hollowed valley on the far side of Whale Island, where the trees parted into a natural amphitheater. The air was dry and still. This was the test site Vane had chosen — an isolated place where mistakes wouldn't kill bystanders.
Because today, Kaen wasn't training reflexes or aura control.
Today, he was testing Framewalker.
The ability had been a concept until now — a seed idea in the vault of his Mind Palace. But after his near-defeat at the hands of Eral, Kaen knew he needed more than imagination and memory.
He needed options.
⸻
FRAMEWALKER – Preliminary Concept
Type: Specialist (with Emission-Enhancer branches)
Function: Create temporary "clones" of the self, each one executing a unique decision tree. All outcomes and experiences are re-integrated after the ability ends.
Limitations: One Framewalker lasts for 30 seconds max. High aura cost. Requires absolute focus.
Risk: Psychological feedback from traumatic or lethal timelines.
⸻
Kaen stood in the center of the clearing, eyes closed, focusing his aura.
His Mind Palace constructed a white room with five doors, each labeled with a variable:
• Door A: Aggressive Engagement
• Door B: Defensive Counter
• Door C: Aura Concealment
• Door D: Feint & Escape
• Door E: Randomized Movement
With a surge of effort, Kaen pushed nen into the Palace and gave each door form. Aura split evenly across the constructs.
He spoke the activation word:
"Framewalker: Initiate Divergence."
The five doors burst open—and five Kaens stepped out into the real world.
Identical in appearance, but their auras shimmered differently.
Each moved immediately into a different action, based on their assigned role:
• Frame A charged forward, fists blazing with raw nen.
• Frame B held position, aura reinforced into a shielded stance.
• Frame C faded into Zetsu and vanished.
• Frame D backflipped away and began circling the area.
• Frame E jittered unpredictably, changing directions every few seconds.
Vane, who had been watching from atop a high ridge, narrowed his eyes.
"Five instances… running in parallel. Not illusions, not conjurations. Each one is acting as if real. And each one is making new decisions."
He was impressed — and deeply uneasy.
Because if Framewalker worked the way Kaen intended, then the boy had just split his consciousness into five parallel channels and uploaded them to the real world.
⸻
Back on the ground, the clones moved like dancers in a strange ballet. No enemy. No objective.
Just motion.
Testing.
Kaen, from within the Palace, was simultaneously observing through all five perspectives. It wasn't perfect — there was delay, blur, and confusion — but he was improving second by second.
Each Frame relayed feedback in the form of sensory "ribbons" that streamed back into the core Palace.
Frame A overextended, struck an imaginary opponent, and cracked his own wrist from force.
Frame B used too much aura on reinforcement, dropped below safe threshold.
Frame C triggered Zetsu too soon and lost tracking on targets.
Frame D found a potential blind spot behind the third tree northeast of the clearing.
Frame E stumbled due to disorientation but nearly avoided all hypothetical attacks.
The information came in like lightning bolts—overwhelming, dizzying.
Kaen's real body shook.
Blood trickled from his nose.
The pressure of five diverging paths and five partial consciousnesses fed into his core mind like a tidal wave.
But he held on.
"Five seconds more," he whispered.
Then, all at once, he spoke:
"Framewalker: Collapse and Merge."
The five bodies stopped—and began dissolving into threads of glowing data, which spiraled toward Kaen and re-entered his chest.
He fell to his knees.
His mind screamed in fractured echoes.
His vision swam with five versions of the same moment.
In one, he had died.
In another, he had killed someone.
In another, he had fled.
In the last two, he'd simply endured.
Kaen gritted his teeth and filtered the inputs. He categorized the results in real-time, pushing them into labeled chambers in his Palace:
• Tactic Efficiency Index: Frame D (best evasion)
• Aura Economy: Frame E (lowest expenditure)
• Fatal Outcome Risk: Frame A (unacceptable)
• Environmental Insight: Frame B (safe zone spotted)
• Stealth Value: Frame C (low success rate)
By the time it was over, he was shaking, drenched in sweat.
But he was alive.
And more importantly — he knew what would have happened if he'd chosen any of those paths.
⸻
Vane descended into the clearing without a word. He handed Kaen a canteen, waited for him to drink, then finally asked:
"Well?"
Kaen looked up with bloodshot eyes and a hollow smile.
"It works."
Vane studied him. "And how do you feel?"
"Like five different versions of me died in five different ways. But only one lived. And I know exactly why."
Vane exhaled. "You realize what this means?"
Kaen nodded. "I don't just simulate ideas. I live them. For thirty seconds, I become five different versions of myself — and when I come back, I know which path leads to survival."
Vane crouched beside him.
"That's a power people would kill to possess. Or die trying to stop. You didn't just create a new ability."
"You created a new way to think."
⸻
Back inside the Mind Palace, Kaen walked into a new chamber — sleek, metallic, like a control room.
In its center stood a display labeled:
FRAMEWALKER CORE: STATUS – STABLE
Data Streams: 5
Merge Time: 1.8s
Integration Risk: High
Efficiency Rating: 73%
Kaen pressed his palm against the interface and whispered:
"Optimize path memory. Store battle logs. Prepare future variants."
He exited the Palace and stared into the sky.
The battle with Eral had been won through desperation.
But the next one would be won through perfect knowledge.
Because now, Kaen could see every path — not just the one in front of him.
⸻
To be continued in Chapter 8: Black Threads in the fog