151 - To Stand at World's End

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Qin Yun stood at the edge of the precipice. All he saw was a sheer drop into a dark abyss. What remained of the river tumbled down without end. There wasn’t even any sound of it hitting the ground, just a deep, prolonged silence.

As he gazed into the dark, many emotions swirled into Qin Yun's heart. No matter how apathetic he had become through his many lifetimes, there was simply no way for a living being to remain unmoved at the sight. There was always an ember smouldering in the depths that couldn't help but be set aflame—a flame of survival when confronted by the desolation of the end.

But in Qin Yun's case, there was something more—something he could only liken to relief. Somehow, a frail voice at the back of his mind told him to jump. Was this but a mere demon trying to prey on the weaknesses in his heart, or was this something more profound? He had felt the urge to end it all more than once, tired of this endless cycle where everything was somehow different, yet it all felt the same.

To end it all would have been such a relief, yet he could never bring himself to do it. He believed that life was sacred, and he didn't believe he had the right to determine the end on his own. He believed he had been thrust upon this path for a reason, even though he never found what that reason was.

Qin Yun turned away from the edge. It was the only thing he could do to stop his intrusive thoughts from spilling out. He retrieved a small, round, metallic box from the recesses of his clothes. The box was simple: just grey metal with no ornaments. On the side was a latch. He flipped it open to reveal that the cover could swing on its hinge.

Inside was a needle suspending inside a glass dome. That needle spun freely, yet no matter how he turned it, the needle would always point in the same direction. This was a compass Qin Yun had made himself a long time ago. He had used it to find his way here, yet this compass differed from all others.

It wasn't the compass itself that differed but how it was used. Usually, a compass's needle would point to the north or to any large magnetic field, yet this one pointed to the East. For a long time, Qin Yun had a theory, which he only proved during this trip away from Jin City.

This compass didn't point to any particular cardinal direction but to a single fixed point—one filled with a magnetic field so large that it encompassed the entire land. The compass' needle pointed to the continent's core, where the Well of Souls resided.

Still, this always prompted a singular question in Qin Yun's mind. He had pondered it numerous times, yet he never found any real answers—until he saw the abyss stretching below his feet. If the Well of Souls was where all compasses led, where did the concept of cardinal directions originate from?

It stood to reason that if this world had a concept of north and south, north would be where the needle would point, yet it wasn't so. All four cardinal territories were neatly arranged around this magnetic field; it felt almost artificial in its design, like someone had meant for it to be that way instead of it being done organically.

Qin Yun always had many doubts about this world. For one, the way the sun travelled across the sky was unnatural. Instead of the many worlds he had found himself onto that rotated onto their axis around a star, forming night and day, the sun of this plane moved in a clockwise motion in a large circle. It would rise in the south while waning in the north, only to become night while in the East. This was counterintuitive to his regular reasoning if he thought of this realm as a spherical planet, yet it made much more sense if it were a somewhat flat plane. It would explain a lot of incongruences.

Even now, despite it being almost noon, Qin Yun could only see the sun dimly in the distance. Even the heat of this desert had become somewhat lacking.

I shouldn’t stop here, Qin Yun thought. This is but the beginning of the Deep Desert. I should go as far as I can...

Indeed, this was but the start. Despite the fact that the river was at its end and the scarce remaining water was slowly falling off the edge, the desert still stretched on for much longer. It felt as if the river had carved a long canyon into the soil, uncovering the abyss below, yet on each side of this large fault, the solid ground remained, still stretching on toward the West.

Exhausted from running along the sand, Qin Yun gazed toward the sky, only to place a bet. It had been days since he last saw the slightest hint of anything up above, neither stars nor clouds, rain nor colour. The once blue sky had now become dull and grey, no doubt due to the influence of the Corruption, and the absence of the Dao.

Qin Yun reached into his storage and retrieved a long metallic board. On its underside were two circular designs, while on top were imprints made especially for Qin Yun's feet. With but a touch of his fingertip on the side of this plank of metal, the two circular designs sprung to life, roaring with power as light fuelled their core.

Qin Yun gazed attentively into the sky and noticed a slight change. It was so minute that he didn't even bother to look anymore. He had seen traces of black clouds struggling to gather, yet they soon dispersed back into the sky's immensity, vanishing into the bluish-grey.

Looking rather smug, Qin Yun dropped the board, yet it began to float a few inches above the sandy soil. It bobbed up and down briefly before stabilizing at a constant height.

Without further delay, Qin Yun hopped onto it, nestling both of his feet into the grooves, and he felt them held in place by something he could only liken to magnetic clamps. The closest word to describe this contraption would be a hoverboard.

Being out of practice, Qin Yun needed a few moments to regain balance, yet the self-balancing system was perfect. No matter how much or how little he leaned forward, the system would always bring him back to neutral, making staying upright on this device much easier than he remembered.

It's just like riding a bike... except that it floats...

With a slight smile, Qin Yun made the anti-gravity engine roar as he spurred it forward, gliding a few inches above the dunes, creating a storm in his wake. Fortunately, there weren't any living beings close enough to hear him laugh like a maniac as he sped into the distance without care. For the first time in a long while, Qin Yun truly did look his age.

He rode up and down the dunes, prompting sand avalanches to follow after him. While there was still a long way to go before he would reach the end, Qin Yun decided to enjoy himself, for there were so few opportunities. In this desolate land, free from the Heavenly Dao's influence, Qin Yun was finally free to do as he pleased. There were no constraints imposed upon him anymore. The will of the world couldn't punish him as it pleased.

So, he ran the engines at full blast, feeling the wind on his skin. With the sun so far away, the desert had cooled substantially, making the temperature much more bearable than when it was at its full height. The breeze was cool and peaceful, yet it was drowned out by the sound of the engine.

As he slowly got used to his new mounts, Qin Yun even decided to do a few tricks of his own. He climbed along a sand dune, using it as a ramp, only to perform what could only be described as a triple back flip.

It was far from perfect, and he even scoffed the landing. Yet, despite crashing straight into the sand and tumbling down another dune, Qin Yun couldn't stop laughing. This was something he had missed in his life. Now, far away from society and the responsibilities thrust upon him, Qin Yun had let himself loose, yet he knew this could only be temporary, for his journey would end soon. He would eventually be faced with the end.

Qin followed the edge of the desert further west, yet slowly, it began to curve slightly to the north. The sea of sand was peaceful as far as the eye could see. The large dunes that once towered over the desert, carved by high-speed gusts of wind, had dwindled to miniature waves upon this ocean, almost disappearing the further West he travelled.

Soon, even the flames of the midday sun couldn't reach him anymore, and the world was bathed in total darkness. The wind had died and so did light. The sky was as dark as the abyss below, yet the desert still stretched on for what seemed like hundreds of miles.

Fortunately, Qin Yun possessed the means to light the way. With the Heavenly Dao's influence unable to reach him here, Qin Yun could retrieve two spherical objects from his storage. He tossed one of them high into the sky, only for it to explode like fireworks, bathing the world below in its glow.

However, the light remained for more than just an instant. Like a miniature sun, the orb hovered high into the sky, closely following Qin Yun as he glided over the sand.

As for the other sphere, he held it in his hand, and through a circular opening, it projected a beam of concentrated light forward, piercing through the encroaching darkness. Although he had yet to see the overt signs of the spreading Corruption, Qin Yun could somehow feel it all around him, but there was something more he felt.

It's been following me... It's been on my trail for almost a day now. Why hasn't it made a move? With its size, catching up to me should be pretty easy...

Except for himself, Qin Yun knew of only one other living being to make the Deep Desert its home: the same gigantic sandworm he had witnessed back when on top of the Exiles' hideout. Against the peacefulness of this world without climate, the signs of a monster worm spanning a few miles were much too easy to notice, even despite the distance separating them. However, it had yet to make its presence known, only following him thus far.

While its presence was cause for worry, Qin Yun soon put it out of his mind, for he saw the edge he had been following turn ever more north. Qin Yun knew he was soon reaching the end. Through his travels, a hypothesis as to the true shape of this world had formed in his mind, and what he had seen thus far in the Deep desert had only further convinced him of it. He only needed the final verification to see it with his own eyes.

After another day of travel in complete darkness, in a land the sun couldn't touch, Qin Yun arrived at his destination. It was a land where two abysses met. The abyss that had been on his left since the river died had now been joined by another one on its right, creating a single point, a cliff in the shape of an arrow point, from which all that could be seen was darkness.

Qin Yun looked downwards, throwing one of his luminous balls into the abyss. It exploded like the sun, bathing the world in light. Yet, despite the searing blaze, Qin Yun could only see a distant outline, but that was enough. That was what he needed to see so badly.

“That settles it,” Qin Yun finally said, standing near the precipice. “I now know for certain the shape of this world. A leaf. The Western Regions are shaped like a lotus leaf. Just one among many. Yet, of the countless that should have once existed, only four remain... this world is dying."

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