The shimmering workspace pulsed with an almost hypnotic rhythm as Yogi stood frozen before the console. The error message on the screen glowed with a peculiar urgency, its patterns swirling in ways that felt strangely alive. His fingers hovered above the surface, trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.

  “You’re staring at it like it’s going to bite you,” Photon’s voice cut through the tension. Their form materialized beside him, glowing with sharp edges of cyan. “Newsflash: hesitation won’t fix anything.”

  “And rushing in without understanding will?” Yogi shot back, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

  Photon’s glow darkened, their tone biting. “You’re not here to question. You’re here to act. Or did you forget that the system chose you?”

  Before Yogi could respond, Root appeared, his gait as casual as ever but his expression unusually serious. “Photon, ease up. You’re not helping.”

  Photon’s glow flickered in annoyance. “Coddling him won’t help either.” With a final burst of light, they vanished, leaving Yogi and Root alone.

  Root clapped a hand on Yogi’s shoulder. “Ignore them. Photon’s just… intense. They mean well, in their own way.”

  “Do they?” Yogi muttered, his eyes still fixed on the console. “I feel like everyone’s expecting me to magically know what to do.”

  Root chuckled softly. “Welcome to the afterlife, kid. Nobody gets a manual. But hey, you’ve got me. Let’s figure this out together.”

  Yogi glanced at him, the weight of Root’s reassurance grounding him just enough to breathe more steadily. He nodded. “Alright. What do I do?”

  Root studied the console, his glowing form reflecting the chaotic patterns on the screen. “This error’s big. Bigger than what you’ve dealt with so far. But the principles are the same. Trace the flow, find the disruption, and re-align it.”

  “Easier said than done,” Yogi muttered, but he leaned closer to the console, focusing on the glowing streams of data.

  As Yogi traced the error, the console’s surface shifted and expanded, revealing a sprawling web of interconnected nodes. Each node pulsed with its own rhythm, a heartbeat of energy tied to individual lives.

  “This is… insane,” Yogi said, his voice barely above a whisper. “There are so many connections.”

  Root nodded. “That’s life. Every action, every thought, every decision creates ripples. What you’re seeing is just one small part of the whole.”

  Yogi’s eyes scanned the web, his mind racing to make sense of the patterns. At the center of the error was a node glowing brighter than the others, its energy erratic and unstable. “This one,” he said, pointing. “It’s the source, isn’t it?”

  “Good eye,” Root said. “That’s the epicenter. A karmic imbalance tied to two souls. Fix that, and the rest should stabilize.”

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  Yogi hesitated. “But what if I make it worse? Like last time?”

  Root’s smile was reassuring. “Then we fix it again. Mistakes are part of the process. You’re here to learn, not to be perfect.”

  Taking a deep breath, Yogi reached out, his fingers brushing the surface of the console. As he connected with the node, a rush of images flooded his mind—memories, emotions, and moments from the lives tied to the error. He saw a young woman, her face etched with grief, and an older man, his eyes filled with regret. Their lives were entwined, their pain feeding the imbalance.

  “They’re family,” Yogi murmured, piecing the fragments together. “Father and daughter. Something happened between them… something they never resolved.”

  Root’s expression grew serious. “Then that’s where you focus. Find the thread that binds them and mend it.”

  Delving deeper, Yogi followed the energy flows connecting the father and daughter. He saw moments of love and joy interwoven with conflict and misunderstanding. The imbalance stemmed from a single event: a bitter argument that had driven them apart years ago. Neither had sought reconciliation, and the unresolved pain had festered, creating a karmic wound.

  “I see it,” Yogi said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling around him. “The argument… it broke something between them. They both want to fix it, but they’re too afraid to reach out.”

  Root nodded. “Fear is powerful. It can block the flow of energy, trapping people in cycles of pain. Your job is to unblock it.”

  Yogi focused on the flow, visualizing the threads of energy between the father and daughter. They were tangled and frayed, but not beyond repair. Carefully, he began to reweave the threads, guiding the energy toward balance.

  At first, the process was slow and awkward. The threads resisted his touch, slipping through his fingers like water. But as he concentrated, his movements became more fluid, his connection to the energy growing stronger. The frayed threads began to mend, their glow intensifying.

  “You’re doing it,” Root said, a note of pride in his voice. “Keep going.”

  Yogi’s confidence grew with each passing moment. He could feel the energy stabilizing, the pain and regret giving way to a sense of peace. As the final threads fell into place, the node’s glow softened, its rhythm steady and harmonious.

  “I did it,” Yogi said, a mix of relief and disbelief in his voice.

  Root clapped him on the back. “Told you. You’ve got this.”

  As the node stabilized, the entire web of connections began to shift. Energy flowed more smoothly, the surrounding nodes glowing with renewed vitality. Yogi watched in awe as the ripple effect spread outward, correcting smaller imbalances and restoring harmony.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice barely audible.

  Root smiled. “And you’re part of it now. Every correction you make sends ripples through the system, creating change on a scale you can’t even imagine.”

  For the first time since his arrival, Yogi felt a spark of pride. He had made a difference, however small. But the feeling was tempered by the enormity of the task ahead. This was just one error among countless others.

  “How do you keep going?” he asked, turning to Root. “Knowing there’s so much to fix?”

  Root’s expression grew thoughtful. “You focus on what’s in front of you. One step at a time. And you remember that even the smallest actions matter. You don’t have to save the entire system in a day. Just do your part.”

  Despite his success, doubt lingered in Yogi’s mind as he sat alone in the shimmering workspace later that day. The enormity of the system still loomed over him, a constant reminder of his own insignificance.

  “What if I’m not enough?” he whispered to himself. “What if I can’t do this?”

  The console pulsed faintly, almost as if in response. A new error message appeared on the screen, smaller than the last but no less urgent. Yogi stared at it, his mind a swirl of uncertainty.

  He thought of the father and daughter, their lives forever changed by his actions. He thought of Root’s words, the quiet confidence in his voice. And he thought of his own life, the small moments of kindness and connection that had brought him here.

  Taking a deep breath, Yogi reached out to the console. His fingers brushed the surface, and the error unfolded before him, another thread in the vast tapestry of existence.

  For the first time, he didn’t feel overwhelmed. He felt ready.