New System, Who Dis?

Tutorial Day 32

"Ow!" I shouted, even as I spun through the air away from my body. This wasn't the first time Claude had hit me with his Spear, causing me to be uncontrollably spun and flung away from my body. "Would you stop that—you said you wouldn't trap me here!"

"You are not physically trapped here. Your body can leave whenever it wants—just stand up and walk away," Claude answered robotically in my spiritual ear, even as he returned to his normal stance of leaning on his Spear.

"You know damn well that it's the same thing!" I responded again.

"Would you like me to help you escort your body from the Dojo?" Claude asked, his face conveying the emotions his words probably should have carried. He was both amused and deathly serious. He began leaning forward as I came to a stop, clearly intending to lift my body out of the cross-legged, seated position. "I'll just put it out in the yard. I should mention that this Dojo is Enchanted to not allow Soul Projections into or out of it."

"What?!" I exclaimed as Claude reached under an armpit of my body, which seemed to be perfectly malleable. Based on what he'd just said, if he removed my body from the room, I'd be trapped in here and my body would be unprotected?

Sure, I was assuming a bit there, but Claude had proven last time that his programming was a bit off. However, he would be distracted the moment he lifted me—he already had one hand off his Spear too.

Claude bent his legs and I zoomed forward. I wasn't sure how I was moving as a bodiless awareness, but I didn't need to know. Not right this moment at least. Using my instincts, I strafed to my right and attempted to come at my body's back, from Claude's blind spot.

Unceremoniously, my body was dropped. My eyes widened as I watched it happen. Had Claude just dropped me? My body hit the wood of the floor, and I felt like I was suddenly at the epicenter of an earthquake or in the center of a whirlpool.

My 'vision' jerked and bucked. My 'body' spun, and my brain cried out in alarm as whatever I was in that moment shook violently. I couldn't have truly been twirling or spinning because I got a front-row seat to the rag doll that was my body flopping and bouncing off the wood.

When the sensation stopped, I felt like I was breathing heavily, despite the fact that I wasn't actually breathing. My heart felt like it was attempting to exit my chest, it was beating so hard. No… Actually that was part of the problem. My heart wasn't beating at all. At least, I couldn't feel it while separated from my own body. I raised a 'hand' to my chest and was absolutely terrified when I saw the barest hint of an outline representing my appendage.

Right after Claude had ejected 'me' from my body, I'd looked at my hands, arms and feet—even looking straight down to find an ephemeral outline of my chest. In a lot of ways, I now felt how I assumed Smegma did. However, the minor damage that Claude had just done to my body—had almost erased me.

As I watched, color returned to my hand, and it resolved back into a more full image. The pounding heart and heavy breathing sensation didn't abate. Claude thrust his Speartip at me as I hovered dumbstruck—the point stopped before it hit me.

No—I looked down and found the Spearhead embedded in my chest. Screaming, I reflexively jerked backward, the Spear point slid free of my chest, and despite my clenched 'heart' and heaving 'lungs,' I didn't feel a thing.

"Do you feel the difference?" Claude asked, pulling the Spear back. His voice was grating as it whispered mechanically into my ear. Then, with the butt of the Weapon, he struck my physical body's thigh. I shouted in pain as my hands reached down to grip my quad and the broken bone beneath.

My hands did grab my thigh, or at least I had the sensation of doing so, but the limb itself wasn't visible at this moment. The sensation of my broken leg slowly faded as the color returned. Slowly, I scanned up from my returning limb to Claude.

Confused, I asked,"What are you doing?"

"Do you feel the difference?" Claude asked again, both annoying and confusing my mind further.

There was another thrust and stab into my floating form. Claude released one hand from his Spear and then flicked my body's shoulder with his pointer finger. It was like my shoulder had dislocated. He then paired the blow to my body with another Spear point toward my ghostly form that caused me no sensation. I jerked back, 'un-skewering' myself. Then, I watched as the pain died and my spirit shoulder returned.

My brow furrowed. Despite what my senses were telling me, the first thrust wasn't 'hitting' me. However, a minuscule finger flick caused extreme pain. A tap by the haft of a Spear, a broken leg. What had Claude been asking? Do I feel the difference?

"Of course I can feel the difference. One hurts me and one doesn't!" I answered hotly.

"Wrong," Claude stated and then hit my physical body again. This time with a boot to the stomach.

Instantly I retched, the sensation of vomit so strong that I swore I ejected star dust. My 'hands' gripped my stomach and my eyes watered. The image of the Spear haft passed through both my hands and into my mostly invisible stomach.

I gasped in a breath even as I recognized that the Spear itself wasn't causing me pain or about to disembowel me. The pain was clearly still from when Claude had kicked my body. The Spear's point in my Soul-stomach didn't hurt. However, it did buzz…

Hum? I couldn't be sure, but thanks to the physical discomfort, the sensation of the physical Spear stuck into my non-physical body felt like a numbing static. I studied the Spear point and noticed something.

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Is it glowing slightly?

The static sensation amplified as the corresponding white light on the Spear increased. I heard a thump, and looked up to find Claude's slippered foot repeatedly striking me in the stomach. My eyebrows rose, even as the sensation of desperately needing to empty my stomach returned.

Each time Claude struck my stomach, that sensation desperately clawed at my brain, but focusing on the static buzz that was coming off Claude's Spear distracted me just enough that I recognized something.

Each impact of Claude's foot wasn't causing any pain. It was the aftermath. There was a delay. Foot to stomach, then recognition on my part that he had attacked me and then… a vomit-inducing gut punch. I looked back to the glowing Spear haft and heard two thumps, and the delay between the 'pain' and the sound was even longer.

It was only a moment, sure, but there was a noticeable difference. Claude asked again, his voice not robotic this time, but heavily French accented, "Do you feel the difference?"

This time, I thought I understood what he was asking. Did I feel the moment I realized I was in pain before my 'spirit,' or whatever the hell I was, felt it. Well—yes, obviously I did.

"Okay," I slowly responded. "I feel the delay."

"Wrong!"

The Spear flashed brightly and my body was shot backward off the end. Pain lanced through my stomach, this time far worse than any kick had been. It was like something was crumpling me into a ball. The crinkled edges were so dry that I felt them crack.

My mind blanked, even as the pieces of my Soul Body shattered. Blackness consumed my awareness faster than I'd ever experienced before.

* * *

A familiar taste of the milk porridge dripped onto my tongue. My eyes flickered open and closed. Before I could even focus on the shadow of the man above me, feeding me, I felt a double-impact, one on my forehead and one on my sternum.

My awareness attempted to hold onto my physical body, but a wave of Claude's hand spiraled me away like a gale-force wind. Claude smiled as he glanced up to me. Then, he continued feeding my physical body the porridge. It was eerie to watch him do it. Partly because my eyes were still open, and partly because every time my body swallowed reflexively, I felt the sensation a moment too late.

I tasted each spoonful of the wet milk porridge, but the initial flavor and aftertaste flipped when they should be present. I closed my eyes, and everything vanished. There was no sound to Claude feeding me—wait—I could smell the milk porridge.

As soon as I did, the taste and aftertaste returned. The taste arrived just after the scent of the porridge grew strongest, and the aftertaste—well, after that.

What in the world?

"Claude, what in the husk am I supposed to feel?" I shouted, eyes still closed. Trying to focus on a sensation that I assumed must be there but I was missing.

"The difference," Claude stated, his voice back to robotic.

I growled but stopped abruptly when the sensation of my chest vibrating with the 'growl' came through, but only after I heard the noise.

The difference—My mind reeled.

If Claude wasn't talking about the delay, then he must have been talking about the sensations themselves: the Spear in the stomach after it flashed brightly was instantaneous and agonizing; when Claude fed me, flicked me, kicked me, or touched my physical body in any way—it was not even an echo…

It was… an expectation. What could be causing it? The obvious thought was my brain—but considering that organ was sitting inside my body—over there. It didn't quite fit.

So, perhaps the answer was my Mental Universe—that felt closer to the answer. Even as I made that consideration, I felt the suns, stars and planets I knew existed there, shift—or maybe spin?

But when I tried to enter that space—it didn't work. It did, however, remind me of the sensation of when I examined that space. When I did so, I was something of a disembodied awareness. Kind of like now. Yet, not quite.

When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find the Speartip again inside my stomach. I followed it back to Claude, who was sitting cross-legged, feeding me with one hand while holding the Spear in a thrust with the other.

It looked effortless. However, even the sensation of static, freezing numbness didn't exist. Another look at the point showed no light. Blinking, I concentrated—trying desperately to feel something from where the Spear penetrated my incorporeal body.

Nothing, I mentally growled. Just the smell and taste of the porridge.

Claude lowered his hand, the point of the Spear angling itself but not leaving my stomach. The haft of the Weapon touched the stomach of my physical body. As it rested there, a moment later, I could feel a weight from that spot. It felt far heavier than I knew it should be. Still, there was no sensation from the tip embedded inside me.

Narrowing my eyes, I got ready to shout at Claude. What lesson is he—

I could feel things happening to my physical body, but not my metaphysical one. He struck my Soul Body first, with no light around his Spear. After that, he demonstrated that by using whatever light he'd imbued into his Spear, he could make me feel things within my new, incorporeal 'body.'

Throughout the whole process, he continually created physical stimulation. At first hitting me hard, but then dialing it back, until he simply rested the haft on my stomach.

My body and Soul are separate—

With that realization, I suddenly couldn't feel anything from where the butt of the Spear rested. Claude's eyes narrowed for a moment, before opening wide in recognition. He slapped the face of my body, and despite how shocked I was at the action—I only distantly felt a tickle there.

Focusing on that tickle, and reiterating that I couldn't feel it, made it vanish. Confused, I asked, "Why do I feel the pain or sensations, then, if no connection exists?"

"A connection does exist. It is, perhaps, the most fundamental connection of existence itself," Claude answered, and the entire Spear illuminated ever so slightly. The buzzing static returned. I examined the feeling. This was clearly affecting my 'consciousness,' but I could only feel it—

No, that wasn't right. The feel of the static was present in two places simultaneously—once from my stomach, where the butt of the Spear rested, and again from where the tip punctured me. Examining that sensation deeper, I discovered something… unexplainable.

The revelation was a drop of rain from a clear sky. A smell of ozone without thunder. Dry earth and arid flowers. All at the same time. It was a bridge without supports—that hovered between this incorporeal awareness and my body laying in front of Claude's crossed legs.

Following that connection—created a vortex, and suddenly I was staring up at Claude from the floor. The instructor smiled. "Good. Now, try to keep your Soul inside your body."

He struck me twice. Once in the head and once in the sternum.

"Son of a husking witch!" I exclaimed as he waved a hand and I was sent careening away.