Home experiments.

Asha stared at the TV with her usual vacant eyes, a strange seriousness layered over her typically carefree demeanor.

Reflected on the screen was the majestic image of a humanoid drill, covered in dirt.

It was the image of her idol, Super Drill.

But instead of his usual imposing figure, the Super Drill on the screen looked more like a fallen hero.

"I failed again," he said, his expression dark and defeated.

How many times had Super Drill soared into battle, only for his plans to be thwarted by Phantom Screw?

His reputation had been tarnished by a petty villain who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"It's not your fault, Super Drill! You did your best!" cried Little Drill, his typical lamentable expression plastered across his face.

Little Drill always seemed to stand by Super Drill unconditionally. Before, Asha would have found relief in his presence. But now...

Behind that sorrowful façade, an evil smile flickered to life.

Little Drill's eyes lingered on Super Drill's tattered clothes, his dark expression, and his weariness. There was a twisted pleasure in his gaze.

To him, Super Drill's suffering was just entertainment. The way he looked at him—as if savoring a luxury dish—was revolting.

How could he do this to someone who had taken him in and cared for him?

'Shitty, manipulative scoundrel!' Asha thought, her bloodshot eyes narrowing as she clenched her fists.

"Don't you think it's unfair how they treated you? They threw food at you and called you a failure!" Little Drill said, pointing at Super Drill's soiled clothes with mock apology.

His cape was burned, and rotten tomatoes were smeared across his once-pristine outfit.

After so many failed missions, public frustration had grown. Rumors of corruption and fraud had spread like wildfire, casting a shadow over Super Drill's image.

What had started as a simple museum heist had snowballed into a national crisis, with priceless artifacts vanishing one after another.

In just a month, the hope he had built over the years had crumbled into ruin.

Little Drill consistently crept closer during these moments of despair, planting insidious ideas in Super Drill's mind. He claimed to stand by him, but his true motives were obvious.

He wanted Super Drill to abandon his beliefs. He wanted his fall.

Little Drill anxiously waited for a response, his eyes glued to Super Drill's back.

What would he say? What expression lay hidden beneath the darkness? How long could his ideals endure?

"Are these ungrateful people worth fighting for, Super Drill?"

Little Drill's voice dripped with sadistic anticipation.

Asha's heart ached with worry. Nothing hurt more than seeing her idol treated so unfairly, day after day. If it were her, she would have given up long ago.

But Super Drill wasn't just anyone.

"Little Drill, have you forgotten?"

Instead of answering, Super Drill posed a sudden question.

The sun illuminated his back as he stood tall, his tattered cape billowing in the breeze. Little Drill's cold gaze remained fixed on him.

Asha instinctively leaned closer to the screen, her attention locked on every word.

"Since when does someone need a reason to do the right thing?"

His voice carried unshakable conviction. Beneath the weariness on his face, a faint smile appeared.

"What people say about me, or how they treat me—that doesn't matter. If they want to lean on me or hate me, so be it."

He crossed his arms and faced forward, resolute.

"As long as there are people in need, as long as suffering exists, my work will never be complete."

His words resonated with the same unwavering belief that defined all his actions. Super Drill remained steadfast, unmoved by the hardships he endured.

A man driven by his ideals and dedication—that was Super Drill.

Asha's admiration deepened. The respect she felt for her idol grew even stronger in her heart.

The same, however, could not be said for Little Drill. The smug grin on his face slowly dissolved into a cold, expressionless mask.

Watching Little Drill's arrogance crumble filled Asha with renewed hope. For a moment, it felt as if all her previous worries had been nothing but illusions.

'Did you hear that, scoundrel!? Do you think you can mess with Super Drill? Think again!'

"..."

'Frustrated? Good! Keep trying if you think you can shake him.'

A faint smile tugged at Asha's lips as she noticed Little Drill's discomfort. Super Drill may not have won the battle, but in that moment, it felt as though the fight had never even begun.

Since the start, Little Drill had tried to break Super Drill's spirit. But all his efforts amounted to little more than child's play.

No matter how grave the problem, Super Drill would rise again, no matter how many times it took.

Asha stared at the TV with renewed energy, eagerly awaiting Little Drill's next words. But what began as a cold smirk twisted into a sinister grin.

"I see. You're incredible, Super Drill."

The bright sky dimmed, a foreboding shadow enveloping the scene. Darkness consumed Little Drill's face, but his wicked smile lingered.

"How convenient to be powerful," he sneered.

"It's not about power, Little Drill. It never has been."

"Don't be ridiculous. You can only say that because you were born strong."

"..."

"You're just a naïve fool forcing your ideals onto others. Working for ungrateful people, being treated like trash—what's the point?"

"A hero shouldn't live expecting gratitude, Little Drill."

"A hero this, a hero that..." Little Drill mocked, stepping closer.

His eyes betrayed the malevolence within him. The world around them grew darker still.

A sinister energy began to gather in Little Drill's hands.

'No... What is he doing?' Asha thought, panic rising as she stared at the screen.

Dark energy had never appeared in the series before. Yet now, it coursed through Little Drill as he approached Super Drill, who remained oblivious.

'Super Drill, get out of there!' Asha screamed internally, but Super Drill stood firm, unshaken by the danger.

"I'm tired of this nonsense," Little Drill said coldly.

Without warning, he drove his dark energy straight into Super Drill's back.

"Little Drill...?"

Super Drill turned, his face etched with shock. What he saw were cold, unfeeling eyes.

With an evil grin, Little Drill restrained him in chains of dark energy. In an instant, the world was consumed by shadow.

[Continues in Season 2!]

The credits rolled, but Asha sat frozen, staring at the screen in disbelief.

She tried to use Appraisal again, but the post-credits scene remained unchanged.

After so many episodes of Phantom Screw's taunts and Super Drill's struggles, she had hoped for a triumph.

Instead, she was left with a brutal cliffhanger.

'There has to be some mistake.' she thought desperately, checking the episode list. But the truth was clear.

This was the end of Season 1.

What had happened to Super Drill? Why was Little Drill so powerful? Why was he so obsessed with destroying Super Drill?

'Isn't this supposed to be a kid's show? They wouldn't kill Super Drill... would they?'

"Shing..."

Her gem reacted to her spiraling emotions, glowing faintly before she forced herself to calm down.

'I need to watch season 2!'

Asha eagerly searched for the second season.

The thumbnail depicted Little Drill's betrayal—the haunting final scene of Season 1 replayed in her mind as she clicked on the first episode.

[The limit of three hours a day has been reached. Please ask your parent's permission to continue watching.]

'Damn!'

Asha tightened her grip on the remote, glaring at it as if it were her nemesis.

'Why now, of all times?!'

She had carefully planned her day to finish watching the entirety of Super Drill's first season, creating the perfect setup for her binge session. But who could have predicted the season would end on such a vicious cliffhanger?

In the end, there was no one to blame but herself.

'Three hours aren't enough. That's so unfair...!'

If only she had five more minutes, she could ease her curiosity.

'Maybe Priyanka will let me watch a little longer if I ask nicely...?'

She had allowed her extra screen time before—just last week after she interacted with Connie. What were five minutes compared to that?

Determined, Asha turned her wheelchair and headed for the kitchen.

She could already picture Priyanka standing there, cutting vegetables with her usual calm precision. Normally, Asha wouldn't disturb her during chores, but this was an emergency.

Rolling up to Priyanka, Asha tugged anxiously at the edge of her clothes to get her attention.

[Five more minutes of TV, please.]

Asha looked at with her face brimming with hope as she extended her hand, fingers spread wide to emphasize her request.

Priyanka looked down at her silently, her expression as impassive as ever.

[No.]

And just like that, the verdict was final.

*

Life is a constant oscillation between the desire to acquire and the boredom of possession.

For example, when you start playing a game, you're not very good at it. However, as you continue, you begin to appreciate your progress and the possibility of competing against others.

The fun exists because it's not easy.

Consequently, sustainable enjoyment comes from mastering a difficult task through time and effort.

Asha didn't know much about philosophy and once thought she'd never need to clutter her mind with such ideas.

But now, at the lowest point in her life, the very words she had once dismissed were coming back to her.

Maybe the three-hour viewing limit wasn't so bad after all. Maybe Super Drill was a masterpiece precisely because the lapses of time added an intangible sense of value.

If she had watched everything in one sitting instead of piece by piece, the episodes wouldn't have been as memorable.

Asha tried to console herself with such thoughts.

But her trembling hands and the intermittent glow of her gem betrayed her inner turmoil.

The scene of Little Drill's arms, cloaked in darkness, striking Super Drill played over and over in her mind with relentless clarity.

'Sigh... What am I even doing?' she thought, covering her face with one hand.

The more excited she became, the more irrational she acted.

More than three hours had passed since the last episode, yet she still couldn't settle her thoughts.

Asha had been working on her self-control since last week.

She had limited herself to only a few episodes per day and resisted the urge to beg Priyanka for more.

But this vicious cliffhanger undid all her progress in an instant.

'I need to keep my mind at bay.'

Since returning from the hospital, her behavior had become increasingly impulsive. The moment her hand touched the TV remote, her first instinct was to put on Super Drill.

This habit had stalled her rehabilitation.

Even after watching, she would waste hours obsessing over every tiny detail of the episodes she'd just seen.

In other words, she had become a professional procrastinator.

She knew what needed to be done, but every time she tried to focus, her thoughts would spiral, dragging her far from her goals.

The days seemed to pass more quickly, and before she knew it, nearly a week had slipped by.

'I need to focus.'

Asha tried to distract herself by analyzing her surroundings.

A calm, blue room came into view.

It was Connie's room.

One condition for earning an extra hour of TV time was to spend 30 minutes each day acting "friendly" with Connie.

That's exactly what Asha did—visiting Connie's room every day after lunch.

But despite these frequent visits, their relationship hadn't progressed much.

They mostly read silently together before going their separate ways.

Lately, Connie seemed to be avoiding her. Unlike before, she didn't even try to initiate communication.

Maybe she was embarrassed about their last interaction.

Another reason for Connie's absence could be her frequent outings. She often left the house carrying strange items.

Though introverted, Connie appeared to have an active and independent life.

'Well, that's not bad' Asha thought.

One of her own goals was to gain more independence, as Priyanka's overprotectiveness left her rarely alone.

Her only solitary moments were during her TV time when Priyanka busied herself in the kitchen.

But most of the time, someone was always by her side.

Connie's room had become Asha's refuge. Since Connie was rarely there, Asha spent more time in it than in her own room.

Rolling to the bed, Asha shamelessly lay on it as if it were her own.

'What do I do now?'

Her last attempt to explore her powers had ended disastrously. She was scared to practice rehabilitation exercises alone.

Regaining control of her abilities was crucial, but Asha wasn't in a hurry.

Her boundless curiosity made mistakes almost inevitable if she rushed.

That's why she focused on establishing mental limits first.

'Maybe I should try meditation or something like that.'

Her impulsive thoughts were her biggest obstacle. Self-control was vital for rehabilitation.

However, most meditation techniques relied on physical sensations—something she lacked.

She had no clear idea how to tame her restless mind, and her only reliable source of information, the TV, was locked behind parental controls.

What was the safest thing for her to explore?

It couldn't involve her powers—overuse could lead to another overload.

'Mhm... What about my body?'

She had analyzed her body countless times while creating her disguise. It was a safe and familiar area to explore.

Her body, being a projection of her gem, was secure to examine compared to external objects.

But even so, she decided not to delve too deeply. She would limit herself to the physical aspects and their interaction with the human world.

It would be an experimental test.

Asha opened her notebook and began jotting down everything she knew about her gem-constructed body.

She carefully recorded data about the energy distribution necessary to maintain its form.

Her gem body was peculiar. Each gem had a default template stored within, which their bodies would naturally revert to over time.

Her long-term disguise was only possible due to her transmutation ability. Normally, maintaining altered forms drained significant energy, especially when changing skin color or other features as she did.

Externally, her gem body mimicked a human one, but it was fundamentally different.

She had no human cells, yet she had veins and blood.

Her body included simplified organs like a decorative brain and heart, but they weren't functional.

As long as her gem remained intact, her body was safe.

Still, there were curious aspects to investigate—like her blood.

In the hospital, she'd expended extra energy to prolong the duration of her blood outside her body.

Eventually, anything disconnected from her gem disappeared.

The key question was: How long could her blood remain outside before vanishing naturally?

The TV show never detailed such mechanics, but now she could test it for herself.

The only problem was how to extract this blood.

She didn't have any materials to do it, and she didn't want to risk using her powers either.

Asha looked around, searching for anything that could be useful. The only things in sight were Connie's backpack and a stack of books.

'Maybe there's something useful inside this backpack.'

Asha quickly grabbed the backpack lying beside the bed and rummaged through it, using her Appraisal skill to scan its contents.

Soon, the image of a small rectangular bag surfaced in her mind—a school pencil case.

Without hesitation, Asha retrieved the pencil case and unzipped it.

Inside were pencils, pens, and erasers. But what truly caught her attention was a particular object nestled among them.

A utility knife.

This was exactly what she needed.

Asha unlocked the utility knife and extended the blade slightly.

She didn't want to make a long cut at first, as it would be too noticeable. She just wanted to test it with a small drop of blood.

Slowly she brought the blade closer to her fingertip and observed the blood remaining on the blade.

The drop of blood was very small and vanished in less than three minutes, but the bit that remained on her finger lasted five minutes.

The blood's lifespan nearly doubled when it was in direct contact with the surface of her body.

The cut healed quickly, likely because it was so small. In less than ten minutes, no trace of it remained on her skin.

A faint amount of energy had been redirected to the area, but it was so minimal that it wasn't worth worrying about and didn't interfere with her activities.

The only issue was that she still didn't know exactly how much blood could be safely extracted from her body.

Maybe she should make a slightly larger cut?

'No, it's too dangerous to go any further than this.'

But if it was just a little bit more, it shouldn't be a big problem...

Asha looked at the blade and then at her wrist again.

'A slightly wider cut wouldn't hurt.'

With that thought Asha cut a little more off the tip of her index finger.

Now a small stream of blood came from her finger.

Asha carefully analyzed the behavior of her blood outside her body, in contact with her skin, and with a small amount of energy applied.

The first thing she noticed was that the blood was slowly being replaced in her body, matching the amount she had removed.

Perhaps her body had a fixed amount of blood, much like the set shape of her gem, following the same logic of returning to its original state.

Still, she needed more tests to determine how long it would take to fully replenish her blood after extraction.

As she suspected, the quantity of blood removed also affected how long it lasted outside her body. A small amount—enough to cover the tip of her finger—lasted exactly 14 minutes when in contact with her skin and 8 minutes when fully separated.

When she applied a small amount of energy to the blood outside her body, its duration increased by 5 minutes, nearly matching the behavior of the blood in contact with her skin.

What was the nature of this phenomenon?

Maybe her body naturally emitted energy, extending the lifespan of her blood without her realizing it.

She also wondered if this effect scaled proportionally with larger quantities of blood or if there was a diminishing return at some point.

Asha looked at her wrist again with a renewed sense of curiosity.

'Just a little bit...'

What harm would it do to try?

*

"He won't show up?" Connie muttered, peering through a telescope at the treehouse.

She had spent her entire afternoon trying to catch a glimpse of the magical lion, but over the past week, she'd barely found a trace of him.

The only reason she knew he'd been there at all was that the candies she left out always disappeared when she checked back.

However, the lion's appearances seemed irregular and unpredictable.

Initially, Connie thought he might be avoiding her presence, so she used the telescope to observe from a distance. But no matter how much effort she put in, the lion never showed up while she was on guard.

"Is it another failure?" she sighed.

Maybe she should check again at midnight or set up a recording device to capture his appearance.

There was an old camera in the garage she could use for the job.

As much as she wanted to see the lion in person, she realized she'd have to give up for tonight.

"It's already too late. I should head back before Mom notices I'm gone."

Connie packed up all the materials she had collected, tucked them into her bag, and began walking home.

This had been her routine for the past week.

As soon as she got back from school, she would prepare everything to catch the lion in action.

But the results were always disappointing.

"Tomorrow, for sure..."

She repeated the same words to herself every day, but she never made any progress.

Still, the possibility of seeing the magical lion kept her motivated.

She hadn't expected it to be easy.

Instead, the challenge itself was surprisingly fun.

The only thing that bothered her was one lingering thought.

"I left before reading with Asha."

Ever since the incident with the hug, Asha had been showing up in Connie's room every single day to read together.

She would come, read silently, and leave without saying much.

Feeling guilty about her past actions, Connie maintained a physical distance between them to avoid any misunderstandings, but this distance only hindered their progress.

Connie also couldn't summon the courage to stop Asha when she finished a book.

Her thoughts were almost impossible to read.

"I wonder if she feels anything in the first place."

Her mom had mentioned that Asha had been through many bad experiences, but she always seemed perfectly composed.

Asha carried an air of maturity, as though nothing in the world could affect her except what directly concerned her.

"How enviable," Connie mused.

At the same time, Connie found this characteristic strange yet admirable.

The words of her teachers and classmates often echoed in her mind. She wanted to be strong and independent but found herself unable to resist the influence others had on her psyche.

Life would be so much easier if she could be like Asha.

"I'm thinking strange things again."

Shaking off her thoughts, Connie returned the materials she had used to the garage, making sure everything was in place so her father wouldn't notice. Then, moving quietly, she headed to her room.

It had become second nature.

Her mom never left the kitchen at this hour while preparing dinner, and her father always came home late.

It wasn't long before Connie reached her room.

"Strange, did I leave it open?"

Connie never left her door open. Her mother had drilled the habit into her—close all doors and tightly cover pots and pans.

Approaching her room with growing concern, she noticed a strange smell in the air.

A strong, metallic smell.

With trembling hands, Connie pushed the door open, and a shocking scene unfolded before her eyes.

Her textbooks were scattered across the floor, and her room was covered in strange red stains.

But what surprised her most wasn't the mess.

It was the supposed culprit.

Her white blankets were covered in red and a girl was sitting on it holding a knife towards her wrist.

Suddenly, her vision narrowed, and her heart began to race.

Before she realized it, she was already gripping the girl's wrist.

The strong smell of blood entered her nose, making her feel nauseous.

There was so much blood that her hand was completely covered.

While Connie was in intense inner turmoil, the girl simply stared at her with her usual empty expression.

Confronted by those eyes, Connie could only squeeze out the following words.

"Just... what are you doing?"

*

Author note

It took me several days to write it and I don't feel this is ready. I've been writing since 3 PM and now is 2 AM.

I'll focus only on this story for a while and keep my secondary on a hiatus. I really need a break that's why next week we won't have a new chapter. I'm barely having a burnout o(￣┰￣*)ゞ.

I'll enjoy my week, play with my friends, and see the sunlight.