The Wraith's power struck again, but this ti it did not reach him. Old Man First's expression was firm, his aura unwavering. His hands weaved through the air, redirecting the storm of destruction away from Max. "It is done," he murmured as the Wraith's presence began to fade into the distance, its fury finally dissipating.
Max opened his eyes slowly. The space around him was calm once more, and his body glowed faintly with the light of two distinct flows—his own essence and the separated current of ti that now coexisted beside him.
He had done it.
Old Man First exhaled softly and looked at him with quiet pride. "You have achieved what none before you ever could," he said. "You have divided your existence between now and forever. From this mont on, you are no longer bound by a single flow of ti."
"There is still the last step," Max said quietly. His voice carried a weight that neither fear nor excitent could define. "To create the clone."
The first stage of the Chrono Genesis technique—separating the flow of ti from his body—had been completed, though not without nearly breaking his existence. What ca next was sothing even more delicate. He had to take that separated stream of ti, now carrying a fragnt of his own soul, and rge it with the embryonic form of a planet drifting before him in the void.
According to the ancient thod, that union would give rise to another version of himself. It would not be a re copy or illusion but a true extension of his being—a second self born from the intersection of ti, soul, and planetary essence.
Old Man First stood behind him in the silence of the starry expanse. His expression was unreadable, but his aura remained steady, ready to intervene if the wraith of the world appeared again. "Do it," he said calmly. "You have already set ti in motion. Now let it give birth to another you."
Max nodded slowly. His thoughts were still haunted by the visions he had witnessed in the flow of ti—the endless death, the ruins of creation, the version of himself that devoured everything. But he refused to let those mories cloud his focus. He drew in a long breath and exhaled softly, emptying his mind until only stillness remained.
Then he turned toward the embryonic planet.
It floated like a colossal sphere of translucent crystal, its surface glowing faintly with the light of creation. Streams of molten silver and liquid gold flowed through it like veins, forming a network of primordial energy. The hum that radiated from it was not sound but life itself—young, raw, unrefined.
Max extended his hand. The separated current of ti—the one he had drawn from his body earlier—flowed beside him, shimring like a ribbon of silver mist. Within that mist flickered a faint golden spark: the fragnt of his soul.
He guided the current forward with both will and essence.
The stream drifted toward the planet's surface. For a mont, the two energies—the divine embryonic matter and the current of ti—seed to repel each other, swirling in opposition. But the resistance was brief. The planet recognized the ti-flow as sothing ancient, sothing that existed even before it itself was conceived. The resistance lted away.
The mist sank into the planet's surface like light dissolving into water. A deep resonance echoed through the starry void, a sound that seed to vibrate through Max's bones. The embryonic planet pulsed once, and a brilliant light erupted from within.
Instantly, Max felt the connection—thin, faint, but unmistakable. The thread between his soul and the forming being tugged sharply, almost pulling his consciousness along with it. He gritted his teeth, steadying his will, and began to weave the second phase of Chrono Genesis.
The technique's pattern unfolded in his mind. He could see every detail of it now—the flow of symbols, the rotation of energy, the harmonizing rhythm of soul and matter. He followed the sequence carefully, shaping the ti-flow as it rged with the embryonic core.
Inside the planet, the fusion began to take form.
The silver currents of ti intertwined with the golden rivers of planetary essence. They twisted, rged, and solidified into sothing entirely new. The embryonic shell quivered as cracks of radiant light spread across its surface, releasing bursts of creation energy into the void.
Old Man First watched silently, his expression faintly intrigued. "Good," he murmured under his breath. "He's adapting to it faster than I expected."
Max's heartbeat synced with the pulsing light of the planet. He could feel his soul splitting more distinctly now. Half remained within him—stable, centered, whole. The other half flowed into the embryonic world, taking root deep within its forming core.
It was like watching himself be born again through another existence.
He could feel emotions, sensations, and consciousness beginning to sprout from the fragnt of soul that he had sent inside. It was faint at first—like an echo—but with each passing mont it grew clearer. The embryonic planet began to change shape. The molten light swirling through it condensed into a humanoid outline, glowing faintly within the crystal sphere.
The figure was transparent at first, made entirely of pure ti and light, but it was alive.
Chrono Genesis was working.
"Steady now," Old Man First said, his tone controlled yet warning. "If you rush the connection, you'll collapse both vessels. Let the new form stabilize on its own."
Max nodded, though sweat was already rolling down his forehead. The pressure inside his consciousness was imnse. He was maintaining two existences at once—his own and the forming one within the planet. If the balance faltered even slightly, both could be destroyed.
He slowed his breathing, guiding the energy with utmost care. The current of ti inside the planet pulsed rhythmically, gradually finding equilibrium. The new vessel's body solidified further, its outline becoming clearer—human in shape, yet divine in essence.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the light around the planet dimd. The resonance faded into silence and a human body erged from it.
The connection between Max and the new being stabilized.
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