Midnight.
Yuehu Hotel, all is silent.
Velvet curtains hang straight from above, their thick and dense fibers completely blocking out the moonlight.
The entire room transforms into a shadow, barely sketching the luxurious outlines of the furniture inside.
The sofa becos a blurred shape, the crystal chandelier loses its dazzling radiance, fading into obscurity.
Fang Cheng sits cross-legged on the bed, eyes slightly closed, as if seated in the depths of the cosmic void.
A burning sensation like fire surges from the pineal gland at the center of his brow, vaguely emanating a red glow.
Outside the window, the whole of Wanghu Town has long since fallen into a deep slumber.
Occasionally, the tail lights of a plane streak across the night sky, flashing a few tis before disappearing again.
In this room sealed by darkness, there’s a sense of a signal light flashing intermittently, flickering with a strange illumination.
It casts a mysterious hue over Fang Cheng’s face, half hidden in shadow, half outlined by the faint glow.
If viewed from a god’s perspective, standing from another dinsion, overlooking Fang Cheng at this mont.
A layer of orange-red fla emanates from his body, constantly jumping and dancing.
The fla seems to ignite from the depths of the soul, using the dependent flesh as firewood, slowly consuming and spreading light.
Sitting upright, Fang Cheng has clearly transford into a blazing human torch.
Around him is a vast, boundless dark void, without limits, without end, like the chaos of the universe’s birth.
It seems that all things were ruthlessly consud by the Creator, leaving only soul-freezing dark mist and currents perating the space.
Yet, in this dead silent void, waves of condensed consciousness appear intermittently.
They seem to co from distant interstellar spaces, pilgrims across the endless cosmos, heading towards the remaining beacon of light, seeking a faint hope.
Thus they trail long tails of light in the darkness, leaving marks of their existence.
These consciousness forms are bizarre and varied, containing chaotic, complex, and inexpressible information.
So seem on the verge of dissipating, rging into the dark mist, while others flicker persistently, still emitting faint light.
At this mont, they appear drawn to the torch-transford Fang Cheng in the void.
They float from every direction, like andering threads, spiraling together, layered and surrounding.
Vaguely, they emit a rustling, noisy, and bizarre sound.
Like countless radio stations, simultaneously broadcasting diverse programs, various frequencies intertwining and interfering with one another.
Fang Cheng remains unmoved, sitting in the flas,
but this ti, facing these consciousness thoughts from the outside, he chooses to accept them calmly instead of rejecting.
Every flickering fla on his body seems to be a guardian of the spirit, holding up a warm domain in this dark void.
The scattered light waves emit invisible ripples, attracting them to wriggle closer and closer, denser and denser.
Until the first "worm" reaches out with feelers, tentatively touching the layer of fla guarding Fang Cheng.
In an instant, the flas awaken an instinct, slightly trembling, quickly engulfing that "consciousness worm."
The tongues of fla lick with fervor, emitting a "sizzling" sound.
Like a ravenous beast catching sight of succulent prey, eager to feast voraciously.
That consciousness emits a spine-chilling scream under the intense fire’s heat.
Initially trembling violently with fear, like a trapped beast in a snare, trying to escape the grip of the flas, its originally blurred form becos more distorted and scattered.
Subsequently, the mist-like consciousness is dehydrated by the high heat, condensed into an exceptionally tiny, luminescent particle.
The glowing consciousness flickers continuously, as if making one last struggle, yet is helplessly consud by the flas bit by bit, until it completely fades and dissolves into this illuminated space.
Nourished, each fla joyfully leaps, eagerly licking the nearby "consciousness worms."
As they consu more, the initially hungry flas gradually reduce their aggression.
Beginning to adopt a more inclusive stance, enticing those consciousnesses to actively integrate, incorporating them into the circle of light.
After a brief resistance, all the external consciousness thoughts inevitably undergo thorough incineration by the flas.
Impurities, like ashes blown away by the wind, disperse into invisibility.
While the remaining essence, refined by the flas, transforms into droplets of shining light, pure as star fragnts of Spiritual Energy.
These energies, attracted by so call, slowly converge toward Fang Cheng’s brow.
With each integration, a barely noticeable light flashes across his brow.
The pineal gland seems to respond, growing increasingly hot.
Fang Cheng’s face gradually turns red, with fine beads of sweat seeping from his forehead.
His self-awareness, amidst this spiritual feast, greedily indulges in the nourishnt, continuously growing and strengthening.
His breathing becos more calm and rhythmic, full of cadence.
With each inhalation, he seems to absorb mysterious energies from the endless darkness, drawing external essence into himself.
With each exhalation, it feels as if he expels all internal impurities and distractions, leaving only a pure mindset tempered by flas, steadily advancing toward a deeper spiritual level.
anwhile, in the dark void, a pale blue panel flickers with brilliant light.
A stream of notification ssages swipes past his vision sequentially, following the rhythm of his breathing.
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