Battle of Wills

Roger floated in the darkness once more, this too seeming to become a habit.

'You know, I was fine with all the sleeping and waking up, but you would think that I'd be able to enjoy the world's colors at some point.'

Despite his sarcasm, Roger knew it was just another aspect of an inherently magical world. He had seen every law of physics he thought was absolute be shattered. What difference did it make that consciousness was also messed with?

He tried to turn around and realized he was stuck, just like he had been when trying to invade Lila's dreams. 

'So the dreamscape is still activated. But then what was that dream I had just had? I could clearly move around in it and watch what was happening, even if it wasn't me. Also, how did I even see all that? I don't remember ever entering a room like that, so how did my subconscious create it?'

He felt he was on the verge of understanding something quite major, but the thought was illusive and avoided his recognition. 

As time went on, Roger played over the events of the dream again and again, trying to figure out what had happened. 

'I know that whoever I was watching the world from felt sad. He had just lost someone very important to him, and I can assume that someone was whoever would sit on that throne. That person seemed very powerful, his chair had a strong protection after all, but that means that the guy I was watching was powerful too as he pushed through it.'

The words sounded awkward as he thought them, his mind overworking itself to put words to a situation that defied common understanding.

One of the words that stood out to Roger was when the robed figure called the deceased man "brother". Although he knew the word's traditional meaning of sibling, it felt different than that. 

The two of them hadn't been related by blood but by lifelong bonds. Although where that knowledge came from was unknown, Roger knew it to be true for some reason. He felt a connection to the robed man somehow but knew it was there and growing stronger.

He shared in the sorrow and misery he felt, the suffering every step imposed on both his heart and soul. The endless grief that he certainly carried with him for the rest of his life.

It was a new emotion to him. He had experienced pain and suffering, sure, but those had always been hollow. Surface-level feelings that were more reactionary in nature, focusing on pain, pleasure, and self-benefit. 

These emotions, however, were real. Raw. Built over a lifetime and cut like a thin line of string.

Roger struggled to cope with the depth of them as they threatened to bubble over and impact his own mind, and before he knew it a clash of wills ensued, one he had not been expecting.

A strange and ancient source of power tried to claw its way out of his memories and into his mind, assuming control of his body and casting Roger out of it. 

A primal fear surged as Roger fought desperately to cease its onslaught, but it had a will far beyond his own. A strength that had been built on the backs of countless battles and wars, each more harrowing than the last, was brought to its full strength against him.

Not knowing what else to do, Roger rapidly began to build fortifications around his consciousness, letting the instinctual knowledge the mind mana running through his veins tried to so hard to impart. It was as if his own body recognized the threat and was working harder to challenge it.

The more in danger his body felt, the more mana it produced, and that mana seemed to scare the alien presence more than Roger's defenses. With a sudden realization, Roger understood that the presence was only able to rise up due to his mana exhaustion. The sickness had left his body undefended, allowing this strange being to enter it.

Despite this newfound understanding, Roger knew he wasn't entirely accurate. The being hadn't entered his body from the outside but had been hiding and waiting for him to show enough weakness to leap out and strike.

While his mana valiantly fought for every inch of his mind, Roger took the chance to try and study their opponent more closely. He knew that doing so was tantamount to suicide when engaging in this battle of wills, but he could not stem his own curiosity. 

'If this kills me, at least I will go out seeking knowledge. Truly there can be no more noble pursuit, right? Oh who are you trying to convince Roger, you'll die a moron like you always knew you would!'

Pushing those thoughts away, he focused on the foreign energy, and quickly came to the realization it was a strange and foreign mana of its own. It was without color, while also being every color, blooming in a kaleidoscope of colors that illuminated the darkness in a mystical light.

If not for the existential horror the being presented, Roger would have found the sight beautiful. 

Looking deeper inside it, he tried to use his [Dark Mimickry] to try and understand the mana, to feel it like he had the tiger's water mana or the Mind Wraith's mind mana. The essence recoiled at his probing before striking his mind even harder.

Roger felt his focus waver for just a moment as the being's efforts were redoubled, and he lost his tentative grip on its mana. 

Gritting his teeth in frustration, he reached out and tried to study the flowing string of colors again, feeling that it was just outside his grasp. Fueling his frustration into his efforts, he let his mana guide his hands as he tried to exert a measure of influence over the foreign presence.

His thought process was that it was his body, his mind, and ultimately his soul. He controlled what happened here, or so he hoped.

It would be very embarrassing if he lost a battle on his own turf.

His mana coated his body as he reached out again to connect with the being, and he quickly felt himself make contact. His eyes widened as he realized the mana felt familiar. 

It felt cool and ever-changing. It wasn't formless but nearly so as if it kept changing what it was to adapt to what it needed to be. It was a strange and unique mana signature that Roger distinctly recognized as his own.

'Is that what mana exhaustion really is? Your own body punishing you for over-exerting itself? But then how is my mind mana fighting to defend me? How could it even exist alongside my uncopied mana?'

Despite all his questions, no answers were forthcoming, leaving Roger to only wonder as he struggled against the foreign body. No, not foreign. As he struggled against his own body.

He continued his fight, facing the manas onslaught with his own, wrestling with it in his mind as he felt himself inch ever closer to victory.

As time went on, the mana felt weaker and weaker, slowly succumbing to the unyielding nature of his mind mana combined with his will to live.

Every bit of ground gained caused Roger's spirits to surge, his own emotions adding fuel to the fire of his attacks. As the enemy neared its death, Roger felt his malice leak into his strikes, leading to him not just wanting to beat his enemy, but destroy it.

He felt himself subconsciously activate his [Echo of Abilities] as he struck out against the shapeless enemy, and suddenly he did not just hurt the being, but absorb it. 

The creature wreathed in agony as its body was absorbed and tamed, then turned around and used against itself. 

Without knowing how, Roger had begun to convert his enemy's strength, into his own.