[ Dear Readers,
Thank you so much for sticking with the story so far! The upcoming chapter might twist your brain a bit, but hang in there. Do you recall the last chapter? Especially that striking moment when our Main Character stood with trillions of others, in an endless white void, before two magnificent golden scales? Keep that picture in mind, because this chapter zooms in on the reactions from key characters like the Black Lotus Cult's Sect Leader etc. Their responses are crucial! And a little hint - pay close attention because the events here will be super important in future chapters especially those in the first half and last half.
Happy reading!
Warm wishes,
Adamos_amet]
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[ Human Realm - Britain ]
A thick blanket of smog hung over the bustling city, the din of machinery and clamor of industrious workers pervading the atmosphere. Smoke bellowed from countless factories, blurring the boundary between day and night. Amidst the grime and toil of the Industrial Revolution, the scene delicately transitioned, transcending the urban chaos to the serene and opulent confines of the palace.
In a stark contrast to the muddled cityscape, the regal abode of Queen Anne radiated a tranquil and luxurious aura. Sitting atop her grand throne, Queen Anne, draped in a lavish gown of royal blue, with delicate lace adorning her neckline, presented an image of undeniable sovereign grace. Her fair complexion, slightly round face, and gentle, kind eyes seemed unbothered by the tumultuous changes taking place in her kingdom. Elegantly arranged curls crowned her head, cascading down to frame her visage and touch her shoulders. A small, enigmatic smile danced upon her lips as her eyes drifted into a distant, introspective gaze.
A sudden, vivid vision enveloped her – the infinite white void, and the monumental, golden scales of order, teetering meticulously between tranquility and calamity. It was a vision that had once bewildered her yet now offered an inexplicable comfort.
Her eyes snapped back to the present, fixing onto her loyal butler who stood at a respectful distance, awaiting any whisper of a command. With a gentle, yet resolute voice she commanded, "Take me to Stonehenge."
Bowing deeply, the butler responded, his voice imbued with utmost devotion, "As you wish, Your Highness."
As he withdrew to make the necessary arrangements, Queen Anne's fingers gingerly traced the contours of a peculiar necklace that lay against her chest. The miniature pyramid, crowned with an all-seeing eye, glistened subtly in the dim, candlelit room. Her voice, almost a whisper, drifted through the silence, carrying a blend of wonder and determination, "A new world order, huh."
....
Queen Anne's carriage, drawn by a quartet of majestic white horses, gracefully approached the astonishingly transformed Stonehenge. No longer simply the iconic standing stones amidst the open plain, it was now enshrouded within a colossal, gothic-inspired church, replete with towering spires, grotesque gargoyles, and intricate, eerie statues. The once open space was now a cathedral of ominous, grandiose splendor, where stone edifices bathed in the pallid light of the moon, fostering an atmosphere that mingled celestial awe with a tangible, unsettling dread.
The massive church, an amalgam of ancient mystery and the foreboding grandeur of otherworldly architecture, was reserved solely for royalty and individuals esteemed worthy enough to tread its sacrosanct halls.
A melange of advanced machinery and zealous spiritualism pervaded the interior, where men and women, cloaked in a hybrid of ecclesiastical and industrial garb, manipulated arcane, complex devices amidst echoing chants and mechanical hisses.
As Queen Anne stepped inside, the towering doors closed behind her with a resonant boom, and she walked with deliberate, solemn strides amidst the synchrony of spiritual and mechanical undertakings. As she reached the core of the church, the preserved Stonehenge lay beneath a magnificent glass dome, which, bewilderingly, was inundated with an intense, immaculate light that seemed incongruent with the apparent absence of a light source.
In that paradox of luminosity and shadow, a figure approached the queen, bowing deeply.
Anne's voice was gentle yet firm, "That is not necessary, Sir Isaac Newton."
The man – Sir Isaac Newton – stood upright, his eyes glinting with a complex concoction of wisdom and secretive mirth. His traditional, albeit slightly disheveled, peruke wig sat atop his head, his customary 18th-century attire starkly contrasting against the gothic and surreal backdrop of the church. His face, aged yet sharp, bore the lines of years spent in ardent scientific and metaphysical pursuit.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of the Queen being here?" Newton queried, his voice a velvety mixture of reverence and familiar curiosity.
A spark of excitement flickered within Anne's eyes, "You succeeded, didn't you?," she affirmed, her gaze locked onto the enigmatic dome.
Newton's lips curved into a knowing smile, and as his eyes met the queen's, they too, flicked toward the dome of Stonehenge, "Indeed, A New God has been born," he uttered, his voice a hushed echo amidst the sacred and mechanical pulsations of the monumental church.
Suddenly a deafening slam of a palm against the dome reverberated throughout the church, its echo intertwining with the fragility of the cracking glass. An aura, vibrant and pulsating, began to envelop the entirety of the intricate, gothic architecture. As Queen Anne's eyes fixated on the splintering dome, the palpable, physical world around her began to dissolve, melting away into an abstract tapestry of reality and unreality.
Reality folded into itself, colors blending and warping, constructing a breathtaking panorama of swirling galaxies, fluttering waves of soft, radiant light, and ephemeral, celestial entities dancing amidst the cosmic tide. It was an enchanting, boundless void where the material and the mystical coalesced into a vivid, eternal ballet of the cosmos.
However, amidst the transcendent chaos, a greenish aura began to envelop the now-fragmented dome. Slowly, an energy construct formed, materializing into a pyramid with an eye-shaped aperture at its pinnacle, containing and gradually stabilizing the frenzied, boundless energy.
Perplexed yet maintaining composure, Queen Anne turned to Newton, her voice a murmur amidst the celestial whispers, "What happened?"
A voice, steady and somehow familiar, called out from above, "It is nothing, Your Highness. It's that our test subject can't control her powers."
Drawing her gaze upwards, Queen Anne beheld a man poised on a balcony above, his attire: a dark, worn coat, adorned with faintly glistening patterns of otherworldly symbols and creatures, clasped with antiquated, silver buckles, flowing down to envelop rugged boots. His face was obscured by a plague mask, its beak-like nose protruding ominously, eyes obscured behind dark, enigmatic lenses, and the mask itself fashioned from a material that seemed to simultaneously absorb and reflect the ambient, ethereal light.
Queen Anne inquired, maintaining an aura of regality amidst the fantastic, "You are?"
Bowing graciously from his elevated position, the masked man introduced himself, "Leonardo, from the New Order of the Illuminati."
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[ Xuanjie Realm - Black Lotus Cult ]
[ The Black Lotus Palace]
A vast expanse of clouds stretched as far as the eye could see, forming a surreal, boundless sea upon which a myriad of ethereal flowers danced. Each blossom, reminiscent of a lotus yet imbued with fantastical qualities, possessed petals that shimmered with a delicate, iridescent glow, gently transitioning between hues of gentle lavender, serene azure, and soft pink as they basked in the ethereal light. The center of each bloom cradled a tiny orb of light, which pulsated softly, casting a subtle, wavering glow upon the neighboring clouds.
As the whispering winds caressed these celestial blooms, they detached from their cloudy moorings, drifting gracefully upon the gentle zephyrs. The scene transformed into a mesmerizing ballet of floating flowers, gently pirouetting upon the invisible currents of the sky, and revealing the visage of a palace of extraordinary magnificence below.
The palace, suspended amidst the celestial clouds. Massive, upward-curving eaves adorned the numerous roofs, each tier being crowned with ornate.
Delicate, translucent silks, each intricately embroidered with sinuous dragons and delicate phoenixes, danced from the numerous balconies, billowing gracefully in the heavenly breeze.
Tall, slender pillars, constructed of a material that resembled both marble and cloud, supported the expansive, multi-tiered structure, their surfaces inscribed with ancient, flowing scripts that told tales of forgotten epochs and divine beings. Bridges, seemingly crafted from strands of moonlight, connected the various segments of the palace, each arching delicately over the vast emptiness below. Verdant, floating gardens surrounded the structure, where more of the mystical, glowing flowers swayed and mythical, gentle creatures roamed.
The heavy wooden doors of the Black Lotus Palace were crafted from the finest timber, carved with intricate patterns and symbols that marked the entrance to the Core Region of the Black Lotus Cult.
The doors were a symbol of the power and prestige of the Sect Leader, Mao Changge, who resided within the palace.
As the doors slammed open with a loud clang, the sound reverberated through the halls, echoing off the marble floors and high ceilings.
The sudden noise startled everyone inside the palace, causing them to jump in surprise.
The air was thick with the scent of incense and the sound of soft moans coming from one of the rooms, but the noise of the doors quickly silenced everything else.
A group of masked individuals walked in, led by a woman with a bearded chin, wearing heavy makeup and a black leather leotard.
The group fell to their knees, bowing in reverence towards the Sect Leader, Mao Changge.
Mao stood on the edge of his bed, looking down at the group before him. The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles scattered around, casting flickering shadows on the walls. On the bed, a lot of women lay sprawled, their bodies glistening with sweat.
"Sect Leader! The Murim has been an uproar as everyone seemed to have witnessed a vision where they saw golden scales, what do we do? The core sect disciples want a statement from you." the woman in the black leather leotard asked, her voice quivering with fear.
Mao Changge ignored her question and suddenly stood up, his robe swishing around him.
Mao walked over to his balcony, his purple hair fluttering in the breeze.
A grim look crossed his face as he gazed up at the sky while the memory of appearing before those scales struck fear into Mao's heart.
"What in heaven's name is going on?" Mao muttered to himself.
Mao looked down at his followers, who were still on their knees, waiting for his instructions. He knew that this was a sign of something momentous happening in the world, and he needed to be ready for whatever was to come.
"Prepare yourselves," Mao said to the group, his voice calm but firm. "We do not know what this means, but we must be ready for whatever comes our way."
The group nodded in agreement, rising to their feet. They knew that their Sect Leader was wise, and they trusted his judgment but will his statement calm the Black Lotus Cult.
...
Far, far away from the world where we live, even farther than the magical plane of the Xuanjie Realm, there is a very special space above everything else called the Realm of the Gods.
.....
[ Limbo ]
The Realm of Limbo existed above the all dimensionality as a plain that was forbidden for cultivators to enter as this place held the souls of the living that would be cleansed of their identity into blank slates as they entered the cycle of reincarnation.
God cultivators and their souls were forbidden to enter as the heavens didn't allow their reincarnation to occur.
The infinite realm of Limbo was a strange and enigmatic place, existing somewhere beyond the physical world. It was a place of pure abstraction, where colors and shapes dominated the entire realm, and the laws of physics were mere suggestions. It was a realm where the boundaries of reality were blurred, and anything was possible.
The colors of Limbo were intense and vivid, with every shade and hue imaginable. The air itself seemed to glow with pulsating energy, and the very ground beneath your feet seemed to hum with power. The shapes that dominated the realm were equally strange and otherworldly, with geometric patterns interweaving with each other to create a landscape, unlike anything that could be found in the physical world.
If you gazed upon this realm, it was as if you were looking at a living, breathing piece of abstract art. Every inch of Limbo was in constant motion, with the shapes and colors shifting and changing in an endless dance of creation and destruction.
In this realm of pure abstraction, it was difficult to tell up from down, or left from right. There were no landmarks or reference points to guide you, no mountains or oceans to navigate by.
Lightning bolts crackle and dance between colorful skies, illuminating the area with a bright blue light. Strange creatures lurk in the shadows, their eyes glowing like hot coals as they watched Alexander.
The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds, and at the center of it, all is a massive eye that seems to be watching everything. It blinks once, causing the entire realm to shake, as if in fear of its power.
Alexander stared out into the abyss, lost in thought.
"I used to wonder," he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the howling winds, "if in this world, the destiny of mankind is controlled by some transcendental entity or law that we call the heavens. Was it like the hand of God hovering above beings that sought to oppose or follow it...at least, it is true that man has no control over his fate? Isn't that right ?"
Alexander asked his words were barely audible over the howling winds that whipped around him, but they echoed throughout the realm like a mournful lament.
As he spoke, a figure emerged from the shadows, a woman with a grace and beauty that was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Her skin was the color of storm clouds, a beautiful shade of grey that shimmered in the sunlight. Her hair was a tangled mass of black tendrils that covered her body like a shroud, and her eyes glowed with a fierce intensity that spoke of ancient power and wisdom.
"How should I address the Goddess of Death?" Alexander asked, his smirk betraying a sense of bravado that seemed out of place in the face of such an imposing figure.
"Coatlicue," the woman answered, her voice deep and sonorous, echoing through the Limbo realm like the tolling of a great bell.
"Well then, Mrs. Coatlicue, a beautiful name by the way. I heard that you know where the gate of Hell is. Would you be a dear and show me the way?"
Alexander asked, his tone light and playful.
Coatlicue's eyes narrowed as she regarded the young man, her gaze piercing and intense.
"The Realm of Hell is forbidden to cultivators," she said, her voice laced with warning.
Alexander chuckled at her words, slapping her shoulder with a careless grin. "Don't worry, I have a habit of breaking rules. Why don't you be dear and just help little old me?"
Coatlicue's eyes flashed with a sudden intensity as she peered into Alexander's cultivation, seeking to discern his true nature and intent.
What she saw left the Goddess of Death shaken, for there was a power within this man was beyond her understanding.
Without a word, she snapped her fingers, and a wooden gate fell from the sky, its surface etched with strange glyphs and sigils. Alexander approached the gate, and as he did so, the wood burst into flame, the fire burning with a hue of unimaginable color.
"Thank you," Alexander said with a nod, walking towards the Gate of Hell.
"You should be careful," Coatlicue warned her voice carrying a note of concern as she said, "People like you aren't favored by the Mother of Duality."
Alexander turned and regarded her with a grin, his eyes shining with an inner light. "Hahaha, you think I'm afraid of those old gods? Tell them to come to find me if they want to die. Oh, and try not to show yourself, many of the old Gods have felt it: The Shard of Order has finally awakened."
And with that, Alexander vanished into the gate, leaving Coatlicue behind to stare up at the sky with a look of wonder.
"Hmm, the Shard of Order, huh? That's a tough one, I am sure Zeus isn't going to be happy that a mortal will take away his concept considering the shards of the Cosmic Imagination are even beyond the power of the Old Gods and New Gods. I wonder if this will cause the Outer Gods to act or not, if they do, all of creation is doomed."