Unchosen Champion

Coop flickered through the darkness for hours, letting the moments blend together as he was absorbed by the grind. Physically, the demand was much more conventional than it had been on the algae bog, so he was well-prepared for the exertion. He was able to push himself to establish a proper extended hunt, but the environment itself was still somewhat of a hindrance that stifled the absolute top speed he had been able to demonstrate with his ability to take down the Primal Constructs on the surface.

He incorporated short-ranged mistjumps to speed up his rotations through the narrow corridors, but because of the enclosed, twisting environment, every move was unique. The difference was in where his focus lay. He couldn’t ‘solve’ the location and concentrate entirely on combat because the minutiae of every decision demanded reconsideration every time.

Instead of being entirely immersed in his attacks, matching his exhalations with physical exertions, he was racing through a dynamic maze-like habitat that required constant adjustment. Rather than speeding through a closed course circuit with enough consistency to move to the back of his attention, he was constantly engaged with solving the puzzle of reducing travel times. He leaned into corners, flashed across gaps, ran along walls, dodged unanticipated obstructions, defeated ambushes, and let his fog choose the next corridor. There was no calm zen in this grind. It was more like chasing the Elite Primal Insurgents through the Appalachian forests than racing around Ghost Reef’s fort.

However, despite all of the small challenges he had to overcome within the fourth level of the mana well, each marginally slowing him down, the fact that he wasn’t having any particular weaknesses exposed meant that he was moving at a consistent speed. The rate that he was actually defeating monsters was slightly slower than when he was on the woven algae fields, but unlike on the third level, the interruptions to his momentum were minor rather than forcing him to completely stop and restart. It was to the point that random adjustments were a part of the pattern. He was able to keep it going indefinitely.

When Coop was on the hunt, routine was everything. The repetitive behavior of a grind and his willingness to sink his thoughts into nothing but his actions were what allowed him to optimize his motions. The more he kept at any particular task, the more it was refined. It was a theme that had bled from his personality into his build, with skills designed to be augmented with practice, whether it was through his Haunted title or Practical Application.

Coop, despite his designation as Icon of Humanity, still firmly believed that there was nothing in particular that made him special. But if there was one thing, it was the zombie-like devotion he applied to grinding. Rather than become frustrated with the process, he embraced it, and more specifically, enjoyed it. He couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he perfectly cut a corner, incorporating the momentum into his next attack, or bypassed a ramp with a premature shield toss as he cleaved an enemy, shaving a millisecond from his intercombat movement. He was like a very deadly child playing hide and seek with thousands of unsuspecting partners.

From the perspective of a Chomper, he was quite terrifying. Delicate fingers of fog would tentatively explore their burrows, silently scouting ahead while a giddy madman cackled in the darkness, disturbing the air currents some distance away. They would have a few seconds with the curious spectral mana before what they thought was prey would encroach the aperture of the crevice.

With their territory invaded, they would strike at the fleshy and seemingly distracted target, undulating their bodies to shoot beyond the threshold of their personal tunnel, mouth agape, only to have their front teeth shattered by a solid ethereal manifestation halting their momentum like an immovable object. In the moments after that, depending on their size, the Revenant would flash through the darkness, inevitably finding a way to behead them with a burst of violence that filled the narrow corridors.

The entire engagement might last one or two seconds, but the time spent engaged in combat was also time for Fog of War to continue flowing. Three additional targets would be acquired even before the first was defeated. Coop was once again in perpetual motion.

He kept up the grind, completely enraptured by the hunt with a passion that was palpable. The darkness, punctuated by flashes of pulsing silver light, insisted that he concentrate on mana and auras rather than his eyes. The stifling of his normal senses had aided him in slipping into the focused meditation that made him seem out of his mind, and almost crazed, to his companions. He was focused on shaving off milliseconds from each engagement, cutting corners in the dark cavities, and otherwise maximizing the efficiency of patrolling the Coral Forest sea sponge.

Coop couldn’t be stopped, but he did eventually escape from his mindless meditation, as he recognized that repeatedly defeating monsters within the same burrows would send him into diminishing returns territory. It was an error that he had already decided he wouldn’t make again after enjoying the Mangrove Forest for half a day too long at the start.

Now that he was fully within phase two of his plan to relevel, he had no intention of wasting time on repeating mistakes, no matter how minor. Phase one was the time for leisurely setting himself up to shoot forward. Phase two was the slingshot. Phase three would be the cleanup, where he put the final touches on his progress and anticipated further challenges within the assimilation.