They had always considered him their true Grandfather Lotus. Deep down, they knew no blood bound them—a truth he had never tried to hide. Yet the love they bore him was as real as the mana that flowed through their veins.
"Wang Lin… Wang Lin, wake up!"
Wang Chen's voice was little more than a frantic whisper. The young man, with long fiery red hair tied loosely behind his back, shook his unconscious twin. His normally sharp, black-and-white gaze was wide with terror.
"Grandfather Lotus… what's happening to him?"
The old man stood a few steps away, his back turned to the two brothers—one trembling with fear, the other still unconscious. His shoulders, usually hunched with age, now seemed as rigid as a mountain peak.
"Wang Lin… Wang Chen…" the old man repeated.
His voice was hoarse, carrying a weight heavier than the air atop the peaks. He slowly turned his head, though his gaze remained fixed on an invisible horizon beyond the golden walls.
"I have raised you for so many years as my grandchildren," he began, his voice wavering with a strange, dark affection. "No… I should say as my own children."
A sudden chill, colder than Demon Frost, gripped Wang Chen's heart.
"But today, I must kill you."
The words fell like the blades of an executioner.
"It pains me deeply, but I must… for the sake of the world, and to uphold an ancient promise."
Grandfather Lotus finally turned. His face, once lined with benevolence, was now a mask of tragic resolution. A surge of mana began to concentrate around his frail hands, a power far beyond any [Trunk Luminous] mage they could imagine.
"This is your birthday gift, my two young boys."
He raised his hand, and the golden glow of the hall answered his deadly summons.
"May you find peace in the next cycle of the Dao."
The silence that followed the death sentence was broken by a muffled laugh, devoid of any joy.
"Sorry, Grandfather Lotus…"
Wang Chen lifted his head. The trembling in his hands had vanished. His black-and-white eyes shone with a steel-like gleam. He was no longer the loving grandson but a mage fully in control of his powers.
"I knew this day would come," he continued in a low, almost clinical voice. "That's why I prepared… prepared to kill you."
The old man paused, his fingers clutching his staff.
"I have wanted to do it since the day I learned to control my power," Wang Chen continued, his mana circuits buzzing beneath his skin. "But… I hoped. I hoped you would change your mind seeing us grow. I hoped our bond would weigh heavier than your promise."
A solitary tear rolled down his cheek, yet his face remained stone.
"But alas…"
Flashbacks of their childhood surged uncontrollably: the old man teaching them to meditate beneath the pines, meals shared by the fire, Wang Lin's laughter… cherished memories now reduced to ashes.
The old man did not respond. His face became a storm of raw power. In a blinding flash, he lunged forward, descending upon the twins with lightning speed.
The ground exploded beneath his steps. The patriarch no longer held back.
Wang Chen threw himself in front of his unconscious brother, whose long, almost silver-white hair danced with every tremor. His hands traced defensive runes through the golden-saturated air.
"May the Dao forgive us!" he shouted.
The clash between past and future ignited.
Wang Chen did not retreat. As the old man's figure descended like a calamity, the young mage executed a swift finger sign, his knuckles drawing complex arcs of light in the ether. A gentle, strangely warm energy emanated from his mana core.
Beneath his feet, the marble floor did not crack. Instead, it seemed to open, revealing a surreal vision: a Giant Silver Lotus.
Its liquid-metal petals unfurled with deadly grace, engraved with ancient runes shimmering with an unknown spiritual energy. It was neither pure mana nor the mountain's usual Qi. It was something primordial, far deeper.
Wang Lin was lifted by the energy currents. At the heart of the flower, the silver-haired boy, still unconscious, assumed a perfect meditative posture. His closed eyes shimmered with shifting colors, never settling.
Silver runes crawled over his skin, forming a pulsating shield of light. The patriarch froze a few inches from the barrier, eyes wide at the unexpected display of power.
"The Silver Lotus…" the old man murmured, his voice trembling with unreadable emotion. "You manifested it… so soon?"
Wang Chen did not answer. His face was pale, mana circuits blazing under the effort of maintaining this titanic invocation. He stood there, a solitary protector before his brother, his fiery red hair glowing in the silver aura, defying the man who had created them.
The silver radiance began to consume the gold of the hall. The duel was no longer merely physical. It had become a war of domains.
---
Beyond the veil of consciousness, where time held no sway, stretched an endless, shoreless expanse.
It was an absolute Soul Sea.
Its waters, sapphire blue and both liquid and ethereal at once, knew neither waves nor tides. They spread like a flawless mirror, reflecting a celestial dome of terrifying splendor. This was no mortal sky, but an Infinite Cosmos in perpetual birth. Nebulae of star-dust in shades of purple and gold swirled through the void, while spiral galaxies pulsed with cold, ancient light.
At the heart of this mirrored sea rose a structure that defied all known architecture: a Grand Palace.
Built of astral marble and immaculate white jade, the edifice lacked a ceiling, fully opening to the starry abyss. Starlight cascaded silently, bathing floors etched with vibrant runes.
At the center of the great hall sat a vacant Throne, massive, carved from a dark material that seemed to absorb the cosmos' light, waiting for its master since the dawn of time.
Aligned around the throne, six gigantic statues stood as eternal sentinels. Their titanic, immobile forms exuded an aura of power so vast it was oppressive.
The silence of this place was so pure it became a melody, an original frequency suspended between existence and nothingness—a cathedral of void and stars.
Suddenly, a ripple appeared on the still water's surface. A shiver ran through the sapphire sea, breaking the reflection of galaxies.
Within the palace, at the foot of the throne and under the gaze of the six stone giants, the presence inhabiting the sanctuary awoke.
Wang Lin opened his eyes.