Ling Ling Deep Ling Guide

Frustrated, Elias closed his eyes and played harder, faster, pushing his muscles past the point of exhaustion. That was when the shift happened.

"To the mediocre, yes," Ling Ling stated, raising the glowing bow. "But to those who seek perfection, the day bends. There are corridors between seconds. There are oceans of time hidden inside a rest. Pick up your instrument." Ling Ling Deep Ling

He played. His fingers moved so quickly they became a blur. He found the gaps between the seconds that Ling Ling spoke of. He discovered hour twenty-five, then twenty-six. He watched his fingers bleed, but the pain was distant, replaced by a pure, terrifying euphoria. He was playing the unplayable. He was touching godhood. Frustrated, Elias closed his eyes and played harder,

Suddenly, with a violent snap of a broken string, the void collapsed. "But to those who seek perfection, the day bends

To an ordinary listener, his playing was flawless. To the phantom standards of Ling Ling, it was trash. He wasn’t playing with the speed of light. He wasn't playing double-stops with his toes while blindfolded. He was merely human.

He practiced for what felt like years inside that endless abyss. He mastered the violin, then the piano, then the triangle, all at once.