"So, what is your decision?" Old Man First asked at last, his tone calm yet carrying a weight that pressed upon the silence of the golden realm. His gaze rested firmly on Max, studying the young man who stood before the flowing streams of ti and space that surrounded them like living rivers of light. "Are you ready to walk this path that no one in the history of the Divine Realm has ever dared to walk before?"
His words lingered in the air like echoes that refused to fade, each one striking deeper into Max's thoughts.
Max did not answer imdiately. His expression was unreadable, his eyes reflecting the ever-shifting lights of the River of Continuum. Inside, however, his mind was far from still. He was thinking of the world he had left behind—the world that was still at war.
Acaris.
Images flashed in his mind: the burning skies, the cries of battle, the endless struggle against the demons and the nulls who sought to devour everything.
He thought of the Middle Domain, the last bastion of resistance that had sohow managed to hold its ground because of the strength he had brought to it. His allies, his friends, the mbers of the Black Lotus Guild—they were all counting on him.
If he died here, everything would crumble. The Middle Domain would fall, and the demons would spread across Acaris like a plague. Even the strongest defenses would eventually be torn apart. The thought of it made his heart heavy.
He took a slow breath, feeling the faint vibration of the River around him. It was peaceful, serene even, but it demanded sothing from him—commitnt. This was not a place where half-asures would suffice. Once he chose this path, there would be no turning back.
Yet, even as the weight of duty pulled him one way, another thought surfaced. Mark. The enemy who stood beyond all logic, the one who had defied death, fate, and even reason itself. Every ti Max thought of him, he felt a faint chill in his soul—a reminder that the world's current balance was fragile.
If he could comprehend the concept of ti, truly grasp it, then he would gain a power beyond imagination. With the mastery of ti, he could stand equal to Mark, perhaps even surpass him.
He clenched his fists slowly. The risks were enormous, but so were the rewards. Every step he had taken in his life had been filled with risk. He had walked into countless dangers and had co out stronger each ti. This would be no different, he told himself. If anything, this was the culmination of every challenge he had faced so far.
He raised his head and looked at Old Man First. "If I walk this path," he said quietly, "there's a chance I might die."
The old man's eyes softened slightly, a faint flicker of admiration in them. "You understand, then. The path of ti is not walked by those who fear consequences. It is walked by those who understand that every cause must et its effect."
Max looked back at the flowing rivers of golden light, each current representing a mont in existence. He could feel them pulling at him gently, as if inviting him forward but warning him at the sa ti.
He thought of Alice...the constant tornt to et her and be with her forever forgetting about the world, war and everything and be with her. He thought about his parents...the long lost dream to unite with his family and make his family whole again.
Aside from becoming the strongest, these two were the only thing he cared right now. And if he died, everything would be over for him and for them too.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint hum of the River. Finally, Max spoke, his voice calm but resolute. "I'll walk this path," he said. "No matter what it takes. If this is the road that leads to power strong enough, then I'll take it."
Old Man First's faint smile lingered for a mont before it faded, replaced by a look of quiet gravity. His eyes, calm yet ancient, studied Max for a long ti before he spoke. "Very well," he said in a low voice. "You have chosen."
He took a step forward, the movent smooth and almost weightless, as if even space itself made way for him. When he stopped in front of Max, the air around them seed to bend.
"I will be transferring sothing to you," Old Man First said softly, his tone solemn. "It is the technique I told you about that I found in one of the many ancient ruins in the Divine Realm." He raised his hand and placed his finger against Max's forehead. "Its na is Chrono Genesis."
The instant his finger made contact, Max's world erupted.
A surge of energy, colder and older than ti itself, poured into his mind. It wasn't just power—it was knowledge, raw and overwhelming.
His vision blurred, and for a mont, he felt as though his soul had been thrown into a storm of mories not his own. Countless scenes flickered before him: the collapse of worlds, the birth of stars, and endless cycles of creation and destruction, all flowing in a loop without end.
Strange symbols began to appear before his inner vision—spirals that turned into circles, circles that folded into endless lines. Each symbol shimred with a light he had never seen before, neither gold nor silver but sothing beyond both, sothing that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
It wasn't a language ant to be read; it was a concept ant to be felt.
At first, it made no sense. The information was too vast, too abstract. His mind struggled to grasp it. The symbols blurred together into incomprehensible streams of aning. His consciousness trembled under the weight of it all.
But then, gradually, he began to feel the translation—an order forming within the chaos. The voice of Old Man First echoed faintly in his mind, guiding the understanding, bringing clarity where there had only been confusion.
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