The Celestial Wound soared through a corridor of stardust and nebulae, its hull still scorched from the battle with the voidspawn. Inside, silence reigned—a tension held in every breath of the crew, each one aware that the path ahead was no longer just a journey, but a warpath.
Jin Long stood at the center of the navigation chamber, eyes locked on a single glowing point on the star map: Verdantis, the floating sanctuary where the Skyward Monks resided. Legends whispered that the monks were keepers of the True Flow, a martial philosophy older than time itself—one that could bend gravity, thought, even fate.
"They've remained neutral for centuries," Elder Ji warned, adjusting his robes. "Their allegiance cannot be bought, only earned."
"I don't intend to buy their help," Jin said. "I intend to learn from them. I need to understand the Genesis Core—before it destroys me."
Yue Lan, seated near the helm, glanced at him. "Then let's hope they're still willing to teach."
—
Verdantis – The Floating Sanctuary
Verdantis was unlike any world Jin had seen.
It didn't orbit a sun. Instead, it floated—untethered—above a broken planet, surrounded by concentric rings of sky-temples and floating landmasses. Great waterfalls poured from the air itself, reversing midstream and spiraling skyward like ribbons of silk. Ancient warriors clad in flowing white robes meditated on clouds, their bodies glowing faintly with inner light.
The moment the Celestial Wound approached, six figures materialized in the sky.
Their leader, a bald monk with silver tattoos and no shadow, extended his palm. "You carry the Genesis Core. State your purpose, child of fate."
Jin bowed, respectful. "I seek understanding. I seek mastery. I seek balance."
The monk studied him for a long moment… then smiled faintly.
"Then enter. But be warned—what you seek may demand the very soul that carries it."
—
Within the Sanctuary
The Skyward Monks welcomed them with calm intensity. Jin was brought to the Chamber of Mirrors, a hall of floating crystals that reflected not his appearance—but his intent. There, the Test of Flow began.
He was stripped of weapon, armor, even Core connection. For seven days, he meditated in silence, surviving only on spiritual breath. Each thought was a battle. Each memory a blade.
By the sixth day, he saw visions.
Visions of Zhan Wuhen, seated on a throne of broken worlds. Of Yue Lan, consumed by shadow. Of himself—burning from within, the Core tearing his soul apart.
But on the seventh day, he saw something else: a gate of starlight, guarded by a monk in chains, who said:
> "Only the hollow can be filled. Only the silent can hear."
Jin woke, trembling.
The silver-tattooed monk waited beside him.
"You've passed. You are now ready to begin."
"Begin?" Jin asked, breathless.
The monk smiled. "To master the Skyward Flow, one must first learn to fall."
Then he stepped aside, revealing a stairway that led not up—but down into a pit of clouds and storm.
Jin took a breath—and descended.
—
Meanwhile – In the Void Citadel
Zhan Wuhen stood before a chamber of black fire.
A voice whispered from the shadows.
"He has found the monks."
Zhan sneered. "Let him learn. The more he grows, the more delicious his fall will be."
Behind him, the Father of Voids stirred once more.
Soon, the Core would call the rest of its fragments—and with them, the final war.