Zan Ti went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. His roommate called from outside:
"One practice run in the Simulator is enough. Save your energy."
Zan Ti gave a muffled reply. Without drying his face, he faced the mirror and steadied his breathing. A moment later, blood-red markings appeared, spreading from the fissure between his brows across nearly half his forehead. Similar markings covered his chest, back, and limbs, though his clothes hid them from the mirror.
A few seconds later, the markings vanished completely, leaving no trace.
"It's a family tradition. Tradition..."
Zan Ti muttered to himself and opened the door.
Instead of going straight to the simulation room, he took a detour to the Myriad Gods Hall aboard the You-1337 Star Gate engineering ship. He clasped his hands against the fissure between his brows, closed his eyes, and prayed with deep devotion.
He laid his heart bare before the deity:
I only used a method to draw out my own potential. It doesn't affect my Faith in the God of Dawn or the great Lord of Dawn. This is "a necessary step toward Dawn through the dark," and "a trait of Genetic Species," just as "birds beat their wings and insects burrow into the earth." I only want to draw closer to the great lord.
Zan Ti knew perfectly well that this method of drawing out his potential was, in essence, a curse.
He was cursing himself, trading a long period of weakness afterward for a brief state of intense excitement. He intended to use it to tackle the excessive computational problems and the practical test that followed.
He had already taken his roommate's joking advice. He simply hadn't aimed it at the examiners, but at himself.
The only thing he had struggled with