The door opened before he could touch it.
Stone groaned and parted, red light spilling across the floor. Ray stepped through, the air outside sharp and cold — his first breath of the living world since awakening. Behind him, the chamber rumbled once, then fell silent.
The forest stretched before him — untouched, quiet, bathed in the faint silver of dawn. Yet something in the air felt… different. Sharper. Heavier.
He blinked, trying to understand the unease rising in his chest. His body felt older, his mind clearer, his senses sharpened beyond belief — but the world itself felt almost frozen.
Then, the faint whisper of a familiar voice echoed within him.
"Integration complete. Duration — six years in the Void, and six hours in the world."
Ray's breath hitched. 'Six years…?'
Inside the Ark of the Void, six years had passed for him — years of transformation, of pain and endless silence — while outside, the world had barely taken six breaths.
He looked down at his hands — broader, calloused, steady. His body carried the weight of time that the world could not see.
"So that's what the Ark really is…" he muttered quietly.
"A place where time bends to creation."
The realization struck with quiet awe.
He hadn't simply been reborn — he had evolved within eternity.
Adapting to the Void.
He moved further into the wilderness. The forest felt smaller now, its once-imposing shadows familiar beneath his gaze. It would serve as his training ground once more.
He inhaled deeply, focusing. The Void Cells stirred. When he moved, the ground quivered — bark cracked, and grass blackened under the force of stray energy.
He grimaced.' Too much power'.
He steadied his breathing and tried again. But he still failed.
The air itself trembled, bending around him in invisible waves. The raw energy refused to obey, spiraling out of control like a storm with no master.
Then, before his eyes, a tiny black book shimmered into existence — floating, glowing faintly with red letters.
"Your spiritual root is unstable."
Ray frowned.
"Spiritual root…?" he murmured. That term existed only in ancient myths — tales of cultivators who once commanded both heaven and earth. But no one in the modern world believed such things were real.
The pages fluttered on their own, and new words appeared — burning in crimson light.
"Concentrate. Feel the qi veins."
He hesitated only a moment before sinking to the ground, crossing his legs.
He had meditated before to feel the flow of mana.
But this… this was something else.
The moment his eyes closed, his world unfolded —
a glowing network of light and rhythm, vast and alive.
The Inner World
Lines of light crossed his body — flowing rivers of energy pulsing through his veins. He could see them clearly now: the qi veins.
At their center, the steady thrum of his mana heart, bright and restless.
But intertwined between them was something else — darker, heavier, alive.
Three streams of energy coursed through him, clashing in violent rhythm.
One glowed pale blue — mana.
One burned gold — qi.
And one shimmered black with streaks of violet light, pulsing like a heartbeat in the void — the unknown.
They collided violently.
The mana hissed and distorted, repelled by the golden current's intensity.
It wasn't harmony — it was rejection.
"So that's it…" Ray breathed.
"They're fighting because the qi's too pure."
He could feel it clearly.
The qi running through his body wasn't the diluted, artificial kind ,unlike the mana that modern mages used.
It was ancient — raw, divine, the untouched essence of the world itself.
The mana within him, however, was polluted by years of exposure to this corrupted age.
The difference was like oil meeting flame.
Pain seared through his body as the two forces tore at each other, fighting for dominance.
His veins burned; his skin glowed faintly blue and gold.
Every breath felt like a battle between creation and decay.
He tried to force the energies apart — to separate them through sheer will — but the more he fought, the more violently they resisted.
His vision blurred. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
"Not… like this…" he gasped, clutching his chest.
The world inside him began to crack — threads of light tearing through the darkness of his consciousness.
Then, beneath it all, something pulsed faintly — the black-violet current, quiet and distant.
It didn't move. It didn't intervene.
It simply was — a silent presence woven into the storm.
It watched.
Ray gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his face as the internal chaos raged.
The pain grew unbearable — then absolute.
And in that silence, just before his mind broke, he felt the faintest echo —
a heartbeat not his own.
End of Chapter 3