Qin Yun gasped but quickly regained his composure. He glanced around the room yet found nothing else of note except for the altar with the familiar object floating upon it.
Altar may have been the wrong description. Jail might have been more apt. The black box floated silently over an elevated circular platform. The platform shone with a dull light and buzzed with an almost silent shrill, yet Qin Yun couldn't help but hear it clearly, an obvious sign of an active force field.
Above the box was a similar platform, but reversed and attached to the ceiling as if to look down on its prisoner. Qin Yun expected to see the shimmer of a barrier separating him from the box, yet he saw no such thing. And yet, he was convinced it was there, for the fear of death was all too overwhelming. He could barely stand to look at it, for his instincts screamed at him that a mere attempt at reaching for this black box would result in his demise.
He stood silent for a while at the threshold of that opened gate, wavering on whether or not to enter. There were many things to gain and answers to be found, but just as much risk. This was obviously the core of the reactor powering this place. It became apparent the moment the gate opened, and he laid eyes on it.
A massive amount of energy was streaming out of the black box, enough to be visible to the naked eye. The two platforms absorbed all of it before redirecting it through the many cables running along the walls, some even digging straight through the stone, leading to God knows where.
There’s no such technology in this world, Qin Yun thought, convinced as he saw how the energy was extracted. Yet, even while seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn't understand how it was done. He was intimately familiar with this black box, having followed him for who knows how long, and yet, never did he realize how much energy was contained within, much less how to harness it.
It's not Alteran, nor any other civilization I recognize, at least not entirely. It's like everything around here, mismatched, transcending time and space...
Despite his many questions, one towered over them: To whom did this black box belong?
It was obviously not his, for his still lay by his side, silently hovering midair. It also showed no signs of wanting to merge, which Qin Yun knew they were usually inclined to do when encountering each other.
There could only be a single reason for it all, the barrier separating them.
This was no mere barrier, for no ordinary barrier could stop the black box from travelling where it pleased. After all, time and space were of no concern to it. No matter through which world Qin Yun travelled, the box would always be by his side while simultaneously accompanying others, all linked into one giant network.
As for how this network came to be, Qin Yun had many hypotheses. He had tried many times to uncover the secrets of this interdimensional device, trying to understand how it came to be and how it linked to all those different worlds, but most of the time, he came up empty. Of the few times he uncovered something, it was lost with his death. The memories were erased from his mind, almost as if something—or someone—was preventing the truth from being known.
And now, a piece of it was before him, the remnants of someone else’s research laid bare before him.
Somehow—whoever it was—had been able to harness energy from the black box, strong enough to power the barrier keeping back Corruption for what seemed like millennia, or even much longer, Qin Yun had no way to tell.
To say Qin Yun had no idea who might have done so would be a lie, for all the signs pointed to a single answer, from the existence of an Alteran Hounds to the mismatched manor, lost within time and space to the lonesome black box forgotten within the depths of said manor.
There were no doubts about who orchestrated all this, yet Qin Yun was reluctant to believe so decisively. His own assumptions had burned him too many times.
I can say on
ly one thing for sure: whoever created this place is long gone. There have been no signs of someone living here for a very long time.
Seeing no apparent danger, Qin Yun finally took a step forward.
Just a single one, breaching the threshold of the open gate. Yet, this step changed everything.
Qin Yun heard a loud buzz coming from his back, similar to the one originating from the two opposing platforms. He turned, only for his pupils to dilate substantially. A barrier had now been erected between him and the large chamber where the hound's body peacefully lay, blocking his retreat.
As if by reflex, Qin Yun sought to strike at the barrier with a back-handed strike as he turned, yet stopped himself just before his knuckles collided. The same dangerous feeling emanated from this barrier as from the one keeping the black box in check, making him hesitate.
He knew not what sort of reaction touching this barrier could provoke, and at this point, he had no intentions of finding out.
He stood silent and immobile, his gaze locked into the depths of the smaller stone chamber. Despite being only dimly illuminated, Qin Yun could see into all recesses of that place yet found nothing of note. While a barrier had been erected, preventing his exit, nothing else had changed—nothing else, except for one single thing.
A trap door appeared on the ceiling, located in the chamber's centre. From it, an orb fell just a meter before stopping midair.
It was black, strangely resembling the black storage, yet possessed none of its angular aesthetic. It was round, a perfect sphere. Qin Yun couldn't see any seams on its surface, yet it was undoubtedly made of metal. As for what kind, Qin Yun had no way of knowing from this distance, but he was sure it was no ordinary one.
Somehow, he felt nothing in this world could harm it, not even a full-powered strike of Heavenly Tribulation. This feeling came from the depths of his spiritual root, from the remnants of the tribulation he had assimilated within. It raged, almost as if this part of his foundation had gained sentience. It sought nothing more than to emerge from his core and strike this floating sphere down.
Suddenly, his illusionary lotus appeared above his head, irrespective of his will. It shone a deep golden while lightning arced upon the two blooming leaves. Qin Yun could feel massive amounts of energy streaming out of his crystal heart, empowering his lotus even more.
The energy granted to him by the Heavenly Dao was like a runaway horse, impossible to control. The only reason his lotus had yet to lash out was that Corruption was also part of the balance. Some of the tribulation lightning sought to crush the corruption back to the still-underdeveloped core of this spiritual root, taking complete control.
While Qin Yun had used both antithetical energies to form his foundation, he had yet to truly fuse them. They simply held a precarious balance, aided by the presence of the crystal heart. Yet, if merely one of the two forces were to truly take control and extinguish the other, Qin Yun wouldn't simply lose access to that energy forever; there was a non-insignificant chance of him entering qi deviation.
It might even result in Qin Yun's most dreaded outcome: the complete reversal of his qi flow. Such change would ravage his qi pathways and destabilize his foundation itself. At best, he would become a mortal again, unable to ever feel the embrace of qi, an outcome somewhat similar to what his wife had endured and, at worst, death.
Qin Yun felt as if he stood at the edge of a precipice, feet planted into the ground as he tried to hold back a flood. A single wrong move, a single moment of carelessness, and he would find himself faced with the unending abyss, unable to ever reemerge.
Unfortunately, the flood seemed more than he could handle.
He was merely at the second stage of the Foundation building realm, the amount of power at his disposal was limited. Although his control over qi was sublime, effortlessly soaring over his peers of the same realm, there was nothing he could do against the flood of tribulation qi streaming out of the sub-space linked to his crystal heart, for this energy had been born out of pure Heavenly Tribulation. There may be nothing in this world—other than Corruption—that may be able to stand against it—not even immortals. Even the full amount of corruption now held with his lotus's leaves was no match for it.
And yet, Qin Yun was far from resigned to his fate. He gritted his teeth as his mind revolved at light speed, but the only answer he could come up with for his current predicament was a drastic one. His only hope of stopping this flood of energy was to nip it in the bud, to close the floodgates, so to speak.
He would have to destroy the crystal heart and shatter the connection to the sub-space. Only then could he save his current cultivation from further damage.
However, Qin Yun hesitated.
He knew the correct answer, yet couldn’t bring himself to do it.
There was, of course, the question of whether or not he could survive without a heart, yet Qin Yun had some solutions. However, what made him hesitate was what would result if he genuinely did it.
Without his connection to that subspace, where an untold amount of energy lay, Qin Yun would be forced to halt his cultivation.
Without qi originating straight from the Well of Souls, Qin Yun had no way to counteract the corruption. He had no hope of ever reaching higher than the second stage of the Foundation Building realm without a way to leave this world beyond World’s Edge.
Even now, he saw no way of ever getting out of this place, and if one existed, Qin Yun had no doubts he would need to break through the blockade that—even now—rammed itself against the barrier enveloping the manor.
He was at an impasse, which made him hesitate, and losing time in his current situation was fatal. Even now, the tribulation qi flooding his lotus became almost too much to bear. It almost fractured it in half, and it took all of Qin Yun's concentration to keep it in check. But soon, he would completely lose control, and this energy would flood the world, somehow aimed at the floating black sphere.
What is it to even be able to produce such a violent reaction?
Qin Yun couldn’t even begin to answer that question. That orb was nothing he had ever seen before, but if he was to hazard a guess, he could only liken it to his own black storage. The two objects shared an uncanny likeness.
Seeing his lotus on the verge of exploding, Qin Yun finally resolved himself. He raised his hand and formed a sword with his fingers, filled with a sharp intent, intending to plunge it deeply into his heart. However, before he had a chance to, the black orb glowed.
It exploded into resplendent light, bathing the entire chamber and Qin Yun wholly. However, the light wasn't merely diffused from the source; it came in the form of a spherical barrier that bounced upon the chamber's wall, only to all be headed toward Qin Yun.
He had no time to respond or try to protect himself, for the light was much too quick. There was no way for human reflexes—even enhanced through cultivation—to ever be able to keep up with light. He could only let himself bathe in its warmth, unable to stop it, were he to even want to.
He did not, for this mysterious light seemed to have alleviated one of his most pressing problems.
The light had wrapped itself around his lotus, forming a thin barrier. It somehow prevented the tribulation qi held within from running wild further while blocking any reinforcement from his crystal heart.
While Qin Yun breathed a sigh of relief in his mind, his face betrayed none of it, for this black sphere was both a blessing and a curse. Being the origin and the solution to his predicament seemed all too convenient, and as he thought so, something else occurred.
The image of a man appeared before him, bathed in the same light that had just erupted from the orb. The man was old, much too old. His long white beard trailed upon the floor, and his face was a mix of hills and valleys eroded by the passage of time. Yet, what struck Qin Yun was how ethereal the man seemed, almost like a ghost.
A hologram, eh? This technology is old... much older than this orb. Again... it doesn’t match.
The old man glanced toward Qin Yun. His eyes showed no emotions, almost as if they had also been eroded by time. Then he spoke. His voice was low and hoarse. Every word the man said felt grating, but despite it all, Qin Yun couldn't help but listen closely, for the first words the man said were something he expected somewhat yet had wished he hadn't.
"I've been waiting for you for a long time," he said.