In Dark Haven's shadowed corner, Solar Clone unveiled his masterpiece: the EclipseNova Vyuha (Attack Variant),a pure offensive array at Stage 3's zenith. Seven concentric rings of 72 refined artifacts spun like a predatory lotus inverting into bloom, rooted in shadow-fire harmony.
It struck in merciless phases:
Eclipse Pull—void chains inexorably dragged intruders inward through devouring darkness layers.
Nova Detonation—instant reversal birthed a point-blank stellar plasma supernova exceeding 1,200 MJ, shattering Stage 3 peak cultivators in cosmic blaze.
No shield endured, no flight availed—absolute annihilation for solitary invaders. Installation demanded Root and Sacral Clones' aid, their combined Essence stabilizing the volatile nexus.
His Sacred Beast Tamer path flourished too: the cow companion breached Substage2, awakening true intelligence and flawless command obedience.
***
While Dark Haven's inhabitants honed their edge, the outside world plunged into revolution.
India's Prime Minister Mordan unleashed sweeping reforms, seamlessly integrating Essence Flow—"Magic Energy"—into every facet of technology.
Fans whirred on essence flow, cars and trucks roared without fuel, railways sliced continents on Essence rails.
Global demand skyrocketed, fueling mass employment as government and industries boomed—strict oversight curbed exploitation.
Xing Nation and rivals scrambled to match, but India held the lead. Jobs lifted millions into income, poverty ebbed slightly, GDP seized the world's top throne.
Yet regional wealth gaps yawned wider, thefts and corruption festered unchecked.
Buoyed by faith in "strongest humanity weapon" the government relaxed borders, recalling military to bolster police in stabilizing the heartland.
Magic Energy's secrets unfolded daily—scientists and labs dissected its enigmas without pause, its power too vast, too mysterious.
Then, a Xing Nation novel fan's forum post detonated the paradigm: "What if this is spiritual qi from cultivation novels?"
Xing's novel mania—birthplace of countless cultivation epics—ignited the blaze. Theories cascaded from fans worldwide.
Private whispers among readers had echoed this before, but embarrassment kept them offline—until now.
Novel fans from Xing Nation, India, and worldwide plunged into the frenzy, piecing together homemade cultivation systems from novels lore—qi-breathing cycles, fan-sketched meridian maps, some even scorched their body under sun.
Months raced by in this desperate scramble, yet no amateur cracked a working path. They weren't even able to sense Magic Energy existence.
Global powers pushed harder, labs brute-forcing Magic Energy into animals via syringes, gene splices, and crystal infusions.
Monstrosities emerged—vein-glowing rats exploding under pressure, birds combusting mid-soar—but true success eluded them. Experiments churned on relentlessly, chasing neural links and viral vectors.
Whispers reached Dark Haven.
***
In Tarkan State's hidden underground fortress, Sacral Clone clutched his phone, locked in a heated Free Fire skirmish with Amit, Raistar, and Yash—bullets flying, voices crackling over voice chat.
Yash fired the question mid-clutch: "Ankit, you're the novel guru—what do you think? Can we actually cultivate this magic energy into real superpowers?"
Raistar and Amit chimed in instantly, their hunger palpable even through screens. Sacral paused, temptation flickering—reveal I've been running my own system for months? No, not until it's flawless. Instead, he flashed a grin they couldn't see: "No clue if it's legit. But hey, imagine us all ripped like Superman—underwear outside the pants, flying through the skies."
Explosive laughter erupted, shaking the chat. Doubt hung in the air, but hope burned brighter—their shared dream against the unknown.
Matches wound down; familiar routine called.
Tomorrow promised a new beginning: Free Fire's massive update and Elite Pass 19, its theme a wild departure from his old timeline's grind.
Elite Passes 14 through 18 secured—tomorrow, he'd snag 19. November 26, 2019, ticking closer.
Glancing toward the kitchen, Sacral joined his parents mid-meal. Kamal's steady gaze stirred shadows of another life—that merciless disease that once claimed him. But now? He hadn't even heard about it.
He reasoned that Essence Flow had likely snuffed it out before it could take root, a silent victory.
Then, a subtle ping rippled through his awareness: Ankit's main body, fresh from four brutal months in the Himalayas, stepped silently into the fortress and slid into his seat at the table.
Kamal, Neelam, and Sanya glanced up—mild surprise flickering to warm acceptance, no trace of shock. Plates passed hand to hand, smiles softening the stone walls.
Family whole again, forks clinking in quiet harmony beneath the unyielding fortress rock.