As he entered his mental palace, Fang felt a sense of foreboding. An enormous pressure weighed down upon him. It was as if a giant scythe were bearing down upon his soul, ready to pass judgement that deemed him unworthy of this mortal plane. Shuddering in fear, he steeled his nerves, he proceeded to venture forth.
A translucent wisp of pure energy floated in front of him. Reaching forward, he grabbed onto the ball. Fizzing with energy, it flowed into his chest as if it were a gushing river. Energy flooded into his body and his brain sparked with a new understanding.
Exiting his mind palace, he began to meditate earnestly. Images of a scythe swinging over an dover replayed in his mind on a continuous loop. Blades of silvery metal swung in every direction. Blood sprayed in the air and was changed into wheat.
Gasping, Fang exited his vision. The vision of blood changing into wheat as the silver scythe came down terrified him to the very core.
Steeling himself, he prepared to enter the meditative state again. The same visions assaulted his senses. Scythes flew everywhere and blood and wheat littered the battleground.
"A drop of blood," he muttered.
"A drop of blood and a grain of wheat..."
"Blood and wheat..."
"War and peace..."
"Loss and gain..."
"Violence and ambivalence..."
"Comprehension...yet eludes me..."
"How...."
"Wheat and blood..."
"Blood brought at the price of wheat and wheat at the price of blood..."
'Wheat is the staple of our times...it's growth yields money to us...money....money can be used to buy life...to buy blood...but without bloodshed how must we gain the land to till the wheat?"
"But the scythe...what purpose does this meandering banter have?"
"The scythe cleaves...it separates the truth from the veil of illusion...it divides this gray world into two halves...every stroke is a masterpiece of duality.... but how can such a cleaving force be used...be comprehended?"
Fang silently contemplated as the world shook around him. Flames danced within his thoughts as he ruminated upon the true nature of the scythe. How...how could one understand such a fearsome thing? And despite it's power, how could one dare to presume they could wield it in battle?
Contemplating silently, he fazed in and out of the very existence of reality as his Nihilist Cultivation was activated. Ripples in space and time appeared around him like tiny cracks in his world. But remaining unfazed, he sat there in meditation.