So, I want you to imagine for a second that you
own a military -grade State of the art supersonic
fighter jet. Oh, nice. OK, I'm picturing it.
Right. It is this absolute marvel of engineering.
It's built to just, you know, tear through the
sky and break the sound barrier. But instead
of actually flying it. You're going to tell me
it's parked in a garage, aren't you? Exactly.
You keep it parked inside this cramped suburban
garage. And every single day you walk out to
that garage, you pat the nose of this incredible
machine and you tell it your job is to be a lawnmower.
Wow. Yeah, that's pretty bleak. Right. You tell
it, keep the glass short, don't go too fast,
and above all, do not make too much noise. Which
is, I mean, that's a fundamentally unnatural
state of being. You really cannot take something
that is engineered for explosive kinetic output
and just, you know, confine it to a mundane task
without severe consequences. Yeah, exactly. Eventually,
the structural integrity of that containment
is going to fail. Like, something is definitely
going to break. And that suffocating tension,
right, that feeling of immense latent power being
actively smothered, that is the exact starting
point for today's mission. So welcome back to
this deep dive where we are acting as your enthusiastic
guides through the incredible layered reality
of the Neogentrix multiverse. We really have
a very specific objective today. We are exploring
part two of our journey through this lore, a
segment we are officially calling Physics and
Panic. The Meat Cleaver Method. Which is such
a great title, honestly. I love it. So we're
going to put the opening act of Neogentric's
book, The Whistling Swordsman, beginnings completely
under the microscope today. And now real quick,
if you're joining us to find out how the massive,
you know, multiverse spanning wars eventually
play out, I need to set expectations right now.
Yes. Very important pacing note here. We are
absolutely not going to spoil the deeper lore.
We're not touching the explosive world -altering
events that happen later in the timeline. We
are looking exclusively at the foundation. Right,
the puzzle pieces. Exactly. We're going to unpack
a protagonist's stifled origins, a deeply suspicious
chance encounter, and a grueling physical training
regimen that literally rewrites. The human nervous
system. Which is arguably the most vital part
of the narrative because if you don't understand.
The psychological and physical baseline that
Neo establishes here. Right. The magnitude of
the later revelations simply won't land with
the necessary impact. You have to start at the
bottom. So let's start with that baseline. I
want to transport you to the planet Medosa, specifically
to a continent called Pico Dash. We are introduced
to our protagonist, Xeonyx Novus. He's 22 years
old. Right, 22. And he's living on the outskirts
of the city of Sakaar. And I got to be honest,
his life is staggeringly, aggressively boring.
It really is. He's homeschooled. He's isolated
on a hill with his parents and his younger brothers.
And his days just consist of doing chores and
whittling little pieces of wood to sell for pocket
change. Yeah, that isolation is the defining
characteristic of his existence early on. Because,
you know, his father is a metalsmith who actually
works in the city of Saqqara. Yeah. but he intentionally
keeps his family entirely removed from it. There
are no peers. There's no modern teenage experiences,
no vehicles even. It's really a self -imposed
exile. And it goes way beyond just the geography,
too, because the overarching theme of this household
is this extreme, almost suffocating brand of
pacifism. Yeah. The family rules. Right. The
parents enforce these incredibly strict rules
of morality and honor, like the absolute highest
law of the land in their house is that fighting
without a valid cause is strictly forbidden.
Which, you know, on a surface level, that sounds
like a deeply principled, enlightened way to
raise a family. Sure, sure. It echoes a lot of
classical philosophical teachings about the restraint
of violence and all that. I mean, I agree, but
I was really struggling with the parents here,
to be honest. Because in a world like Medusa,
which we quickly learn is not a safe place at
all. Oh, definitely not. It feels borderline
negligent. Because Zeonix isn't just an average
kid. He comes from a legendary bloodline. Right.
So if you're looking at this from the outside,
you really have to ask out loud. Why is a kid,
a 22 -year -old with this much raw genetic potential,
forced to hold it back? It's the fighter jet
in the garage. Exactly. Why are these parents
trying to turn a sword into a plowshare so aggressively
to the point of basically handicapping their
own son? Because that morality that they preach,
it's entirely performative. Wait, really? Performative.
Yeah, it's a mask for profound, paralyzing terror.
When you actually analyze the family's behavior,
they aren't practicing enlightened pacifism at
all. They are managing a trauma response. They
are hiding. Okay, let's unpack that. What exactly
are they hiding from? Because Neo gives us some
clues. We have to look at the lineage. So Zeonix's
grandfather was Zeon Clerics. The legend. The
legend, known across the continent as the Whistling
Swordsman. He was this monumental figure who
supposedly died in the Congo War, like 17 years
prior to the story. Right. And Neo doesn't give
us the full historical textbook on the Congo
War right away, which I actually appreciate.
Yeah, it's doled out slowly. But the context
clues are very heavy. This was a conflict that
created deep, enduring animosities. Bad blood.
Exactly. The parents know that the enemies of
Zion Clerics didn't just vanish when he died.
In this geopolitical climate, Drawing a sword
means drawing a neon target on your entire family.
Wow. So they are essentially gaslighting their
own son. Yes. They are framing this conflict
avoidance as a matter of being a good, honorable
person, when the reality is they are just terrified
that if he ever taps into his natural abilities,
the ghosts of the Congo War will just come back
to slaughter them. It is a heavy, heavy burden
of fear, but it's disguised as a burden of morality.
But going back to your fighter jet analogy. You
cannot suppress human nature indefinitely. Right.
The spring's going to snap. You certainly cannot
suppress the physiological and psychological
drive of someone whose literal bloodline is intertwined
with the blade. Which means, yeah, that quarantine
just builds this massive pent up desire in Xeonyx
to just escape his own boredom. I mean, he's
desperate for some kind of connection to his
grandfather's legacy because it's basically the
only interesting thing about his family. And
that mundane desperation pushes him to sneak
away. He takes his bike into the local town just
for groceries and a newspaper and he completely
blows his family's cover. This is the catalyst
at the market. And I got to say, it is a masterclass.
Intention by Neogentrix. I was really stuck on
this market scene, though, so I need you to help
me make sense of it, because Zeonix is at the
store, and he physically bumps into this massive
man wearing a thick tan coat, carrying twin swords
on his back. Kenshin Sensei. Right. Now, this
just felt incredibly contrived to me on my first
read. Like, this highly lethal warrior just happens
to bump into his old master's grandson in a grocery
store. What am I missing here? Well, you're assuming
Kenshin recognized the boy. Oh. He didn't. Look
closely at the mechanics of the scene. Kenshin
brushes off the physical collision entirely.
He doesn't look at Zeonix's face and see the
resemblance to his old master. He locks eyes,
specifically on the hardware hanging at the boy's
hip. Oh, wow. The cardinal dagger? Exactly. It's
a relic given to Zeonix by his grandfather when
he was five years old. It was originally a chain
blade, but, um... The chain broke off due to
age. Right. So it's just leaving this distinct,
highly recognizable dagger. And Xeonyx just uses
it as a tool to whittle wood. Yeah. But Kenshin
recognizes it for what it truly is. Okay. That
definitely shifts the perspective. So Kenshin
isn't tracking the boy at all. He spots the weapon.
And then as soon as Xeonyx casually drops his
grandfather's name, Xeon Clerics, the entire
atmosphere of the interaction pivots. It completely
flips. Kenshin reveals that he was actually a
former student of the Whistling Swordsman back
before the school was destroyed in the war. But
Neo writes Kenshin with some really wild contradictions
here. Yeah, the immediate introduction of moral
ambiguity. Because Kenshin acts like this nostalgic
disciple, but then he casually mentions that
the legendary noble Whistling Swordsman was also
acting as a, quote, loan shark. Yes. Which is
so... It completely shatters the mythological
pedestal that Xionix has put his grandfather
on all these years. And it gets weirder because
Kenshin claims he currently owes this dead man
a massive debt in crystals, which is, you know,
the lifeblood currency of Pekadesh. Which provides
a highly convenient transaction. Kenshin basically
tells the boy he will teach him the sword arts
for free in order to repay his debt in crystals.
Yeah, see, I'm not buying the Noble Teacher Act.
I really want to challenge Kenshin's motives
here. Let's hear it. If Kenshin knows that this
clueless 22 -year -old kid walking around with
the cardinal dagger is a walking beacon for old,
dangerous enemies, why offer to train him? Why
not just confiscate the dagger, tell him to run
home, and hide him? Right. Putting a sword in
Zeonix's hand feels like Kenshin is intentionally
using the kid as bait. That is a very valid interpretation
of the subtext, honestly. Consider Kenshin's
strategic mind. He knows the secret is out now.
If the grandson of the whistling swordsman is
in the open, untrained, and naive, he is a massive
liability. A sitting duck. Exactly. By offering
to train him, Kenshin might be trying to give
the boy a fighting chance, or he might be setting
up a controlled environment to draw out the grandfather's
old enemies. Oh, man. Because Kenshin's offer
comes with a very specific, ominous condition.
Xeonyx must find his own training blade and then
meet him at his dojo on Shaman Hill. And this
tiny sliver of connection to his grandfather
completely shatters Xeonyx's safe moral bubble
like he accepts immediately. Shaman Hill strips
away his pacifism in just the most jarring way
possible. Oh, absolutely. Because before he even
reaches the dojo, he stumbles into a ruined village
that serves as this wildly unexpected, lethal
first exam. The ambush. Right. The ambush. He
gets attacked by these entities and Neo describes
them as bandits, but also heavily implies they
might be robotic automatons. Yeah. The exact
nature of these enemies is wonderfully ambiguous.
It is. But what fascinated me the most is how
Xeonyx actually reacts. He's holding a heavy
real sword for the first time in his life, facing
lethal threats, and his brain defaults to holding
the blade like a tiny wood carving knife. Yes.
He survives purely on instinct and whittling
techniques. It's insane. It's a brilliant illustration
of his psychological handicap. You have a young
man in a life -or -death scenario, and his neural
pathways are so deeply conditioned by his parents'
pacifism that his brain completely rejects the
concept of a combat grip. It just refuses. Right.
It defaults to the only safe, nonviolent physical
movement it knows, which is carving a trinket.
So why do you think Kenshin set it up this way?
I mean, why use these weird bandit robots instead
of just sparring with the kid in a safe room?
Because Kenshin isn't just looking to see if
Xeonyx can swing a stick. The bandit... whether
they are flesh and blood or mechanical atomicons,
they serve a diagnostic purpose. A diagnostic
purpose. Okay. Yeah. Kenshin is observing what
happens when the boy's frontal lobe, which holds
all those strict rules of morality, shuts down
out of pure terror and his autonomic nervous
system takes over. Oh, wow. Kenshin needed to
see the raw, unfiltered baseline. And what he
saw... was a kid whose survival instincts were
buried under a mountain of whittling habits.
Which brings us to the absolute core of this
deep dive, physics and panic. Because when Xeonyx
finally survives that ordeal and arrives at the
Shaman Hill Dojo, Kenshin's teaching style is
a massive shock to the system. It is the literal
definition of sink or swim. Oh yeah. There are
no philosophical lectures about the beauty of
the blade. There is no gentle unlearning of his
past. Kenshin realizes that standard training
just won't work on someone with 22 years of pacifist
conditioning. Right. At first, they attempt some
standard wooden sword forms, but that doesn't
really go anywhere. But then Kenshin forces this
horrifying pivot. He eventually takes away the
wooden sword, hands Zeonix a heavy, unbalanced
practice blade, and a literal meat cleaver. The
meat cleaver method. The meat cleaver method.
Think about the psychological terror of this
moment. You are a kid whose entire existence
has been governed by the strict rule that fighting
is wrong. You have been totally shielded from
violence. Right. And suddenly this massive warrior
hands you a piece of kitchen butchery equipment
explicitly telling you that the goal is to build
strength so you have no problems piercing the
skin to kill. It is pure undiluted panic. Let's
actually break down the biomechanics of what
Kenshin is doing here because it is deeply, deeply
calculated. Please do. So a meat cleaver operates
on entirely different kinetic principles than
a balanced sword. A standard sword is balanced
near the hilt, right? You can maneuver it with
your wrists. You can feint. You can pull your
strikes. It has finesse. Precisely. A meat cleaver
has absolutely zero finesse. It is incredibly
top -heavy. Its center of mass is entirely in
the broad blade. Yeah, you can't just flick your
wrist with that. Exactly. When you swing a meat
cleaver you have to engage your shoulder, your
hips, your core. You have to commit your entire
body weight to the downward trajectory and most
importantly because of that momentum you cannot
pull a punch. If you hesitate with a meat cleaver,
it just bounces or gets stuck. You are hacking.
You are chopping bone and flesh. It is visceral,
ugly violence. Yes. And Kenshin is using the
physics of the weapon to forcibly rewrite the
boy's morality. He is making Xeonyx physically
feel the weight of cleaving flesh. Wow. He's
forcing him to commit to the kinetic chain of
a lethal strike over and over again. He's effectively
burning the pacifism out of his nervous system
through sheer repetition and physical exhaustion.
And here's where it gets incredibly fascinating
and where Neogentrix really shows us the latent
genius inside Xeonyx. Because during this grueling
training, there is this one critical scene. Oh,
I know exactly which one you mean. Yeah. Xeonyx
is exhausted and he casually drops his sword
into what looks like a resting position. He just
holds it straight down parallel to his body with
the blade facing front. And Kenshin absolutely
freezes. Kenshin completely stops the session.
Because to a layman, that looks like a kid just
catching his breath. But to a master, it's something
entirely different. That specific posture isn't
resting at all. It's an advanced, highly specialized
strike stance meant to kill an opponent in one
single devastating hit. It is a stance of absolute
last resort. Exactly. And the revelation of how
Xeonyx acquired this muscle memory is, I think,
the true aha moment of the first act. It really
is. When Kenshin demands to know where he learned
it, Zeonis is completely nonchalant. He just
says, oh, I just copied it from a photograph.
From a photo. Right. He has this old picture
of his grandfather in his room. He has spent
his entire isolated life staring at it, idolizing
the man, tracing the geometry of his grandfather's
posture. He perfected a lethal killing stance
from a piece of paper. Think about the magnitude
of that for a second. It's like reverse engineering
a fully functioning high performance engine just
by staring at a two dimensional blueprint. Yeah.
He didn't just copy the superficial pose either.
His muscles somehow infer the entire complex
kinetic sequence required to execute the strike
properly. It completely blows Kenshin's mind
because it took Kenshin, who was studying directly
under the Whistling Swordsman in person, a full
year of grueling. agonizing practice to perfect
that exact stance. Right. And this kid just absorbed
the biomechanics through visual osmosis. It proves
that the genetic capability, you know, that fighter
jet engine we talked about, is fully functional.
It was just waiting to be turned on. And this
realization prompts Kenshin to finally explain
the core philosophy, the underlying physics of
the whistling wind style. The actual magic system
of it, kind of. Kenshin explains that this style
is guided by the wind itself. If the biomechanics
of the attack are absolutely perfect, the swordsman
creates a vacuum. You actually hear the whistle
of the wind. The lore says that if you achieve
that state, you can actually command the elements.
The wind literally becomes an extension of the
blade. But the mechanics required to achieve
that state are terrifying. To generate a strike
so perfect, so incredibly frictionless that it
bends the air around it, it requires absolute,
unwavering, lethal conviction. No hesitation.
None. You cannot have a microsecond of hesitation.
You cannot harbor a single shred of doubt or
pacifism in your heart when you swing. Any psychological
resistance creates physical friction and the
technique completely fails. Which means it requires
the exact polar opposite of everything Xeonyx's
parents spent two decades teaching him. It demands
your soul. You cannot merely wield a sword. You
have to become a force of nature. And that is
the brilliant, heavy realization that reframes
the entire beginning of the book. Yeah. The parents
weren't just protecting him from assassins hiding
in the shadows. They were trying to protect him
from what the sword would inevitably demand of
his own humanity. That is such a profound way
to look at it. It connects all the threads for
us so perfectly. Neogentrix spends this entire
first act making sure we deeply understand the
psychological weight of the blade before Zeonix
ever even says anything. steps onto a real battlefield.
It really is the perfect foundation. We witness
the suppression of immense power, the introduction
of a deeply mysterious catalyst who forces that
power to the surface, and a physical awakening
that violently strips away the protagonist's
innocence. So as we wrap up this portion of the
analysis, I want to leave you, as you're listening
to this, with a final provocative thought to
mull over on your own. Always the best part.
We talked about that supersonic fighter jet trapped
in a suburban garage, right? And we know Kenshin
is using the meat cleaver method to fuel it up,
to force it to break down the garage doors. But
think about the physics of the whistling wind
style. If just holding a sword correctly and
executing a single stance requires such intense
lethal intent that it literally commands the
elements. What happens to Xionix's soul when
he actually has to use it on another human being?
That's the million dollar question. Right. When
he finally faces the dark, violent shadows of
the Congo War that his grandfather left behind.
Will he command the wind or will the sheer force
of it completely tears humanity apart? It is
a question that just hangs over every single
page that follows this training sequence. It
really does. And to find out what happens when
that jet finally breaks the sound barrier, I
highly urge you to dive into Neogentric's book,
The Whistling Soulsman, Beginnings. Uncover the
epic lore, explore the multiverse connections,
and experience the devastating events that follow
this brutal awakening for yourself. The foundation
has definitely been laid. The rest of the puzzle
is waiting for you. That's it for episode two.
Stick around next time for episode three, where
we will be fiercely debating some of the topics
and character choices from this first half before
we move into the second act.