“Huh? Good question,” said Stannie, turning her attention to Samuel, who stood by the closed door, unsure of himself.

Everything from the moment he had that over-the-top dream of a tree, things had been flying by without him coming to grips with any of it.

He had become some sort of super cultivator, an outcome that was wildly out of his expectations. He had been prepared(and hoped) to die so he could get another shot at life. That was how the circle of life worked, as Mother had told him.

Not to mention that he was saddled with two others who had also just become cultivators because of him. Out of everything, it was this revelation that he found most unbelievable. Then, there was the small fact that their lives were in his hands.

He had no idea how to take care of others; all he had for companionship were the side eyes of his fellow orphans and the occasional ‘education’ from Mother. To say that he was out of his depth was an understatement.

“How about testing out our cultivator abilities?” Stannie said, looking directly at him.

This put Samuel on the spot, which made him freeze.

Why was she looking at him when she said that?!?

Panicked, he immediately nodded his head. Agreeing was usually the fastest way to get out of a bind, and he hoped it would be the same this time.

For a moment, he had thought he had messed up when Stannie looked at him with a gleam in her eye. Oddly, that look also sent a tingle down to his nethers.

She gave him a broad grin to his relief, drawing Samuel’s attention to her lips. Their plumpness, combined with the memory of what she had been doing with it in the bathroom, made Samuel’s breathing quicken.

At the same time, he noticed an oddity. It might be his imagination, but her lips were not this plush. He could have sworn that her lips were less vibrant and thinner when he had first met her.

Her words dragged him out of his musings and the odd emotional state he found himself in.

“Then I will start!” said Stannie, her voice betraying her excitement.

She pushed her palm outwards, closing her eyes in concentration.

Samuel and Immy waited for a spell, but outside of the gentle sound of some cicadas, nothing happened. All the while, Stanine's face seemed red as she held her breath in for a second too long.

She let that held breath all at once, crying out in frustration as she looked at her palms.

“What gives?!?” She asked, irritation coating her voice.

“Umm… What was supposed to happen?” Immy asked, speaking up for the first time, her voice curious. Samuel nodded equally as interested in what Stannie was trying to do.

“I was supposed to cause essence to circulate in my palms, which was supposed to cause a whirring breeze around my palms. I am sure I did it right… The old man had said all you need to do was imagine a spinning ball at the center of your palms. I saw him teaching new cultivators all the time! He said it was easy!” Stannie agitatedly exclaimed.

Immy nodded, causing her silky black hair to bob with her motions. She thrust her palms out, imitating Stanine's motions as she closed her eyes.

For a brief few ticks, nothing happened.

“Well… I guess that’s–” Stanni was about to say.

A faint whirring could heard, and Samuel could feel the sudden change in airflow, especially given he was standing next to the source of the said airflow. He turned to see a haze swirling mid-air right before Immy’s slender, outstretched arms.

He and Stannie looked at the scene with surprise, though Stanine also had a hint of something else in her eyes.

Samuel, now excited to try, did the same. He closed his eyes, threw out his arms, and imagined the hazy ball spinning before Immy.

At first, there was darkness, followed by the faint sense of suffocation from holding one’s breath. But that quickly melted away to a sight he had become familiar with. It was his supertree, just as vivid and majestic as the first time he imagined it; the scenery around it, however, had become quite blurry. The two suns he had imagined to be around the tree were nowhere to be seen, and all the extra little bits and pieces he had imagined to give the tree more character were gone. But the tree held, solid and firm, just like he had imagined it.

There was something new here, at least. That being the small spinning sphere of white haze he had just moments ago. It was small and fragile, but it was still spinning there. The fragility of the object irked Samuel. It was before his great tree, so it should be grander.

Samuel imagined the sphere to be larger, and so it was, twice as large as before. But even that felt too tiny, so he doubled it again, but even that was not enough, so he did it once more. This process kept repeating till the sphere completely blocked his view of his tree. This finally satisfied Samuel with the size. But this led to another problem: it was spinning too slowly for its size, in his opinion, so he did just that. He thought about it, and the sphere started to spin very rapidly.

“Master?...”

“Master!”

Two shouts broke him from his reverie, and he opened his eyes.

He saw why both had called out to him and their voices sounded so concerned.