Lin Xiao gazed at his mother and sister's terrified expressions, their eyes wide with fear, the weight of their visions still heavy in their minds. His heart ached at the sight of them so disturbed, and he knew that he couldn't leave them like this.
They were scared of him—one fearing the potential darkness, and the other fearing his demise. Both fears, though rooted in love, were too much for them to carry.
He exhaled slowly, resolving to take the memories away, to restore their peace, even if it meant keeping the burden entirely on himself.
Stepping closer to them, Lin Xiao closed his eyes and let his mind slip back into that familiar realm of Memory Manipulation. He reached out with his power, gently, delicately. This wasn't about force—this was about care, precision.
Starting with his sister, he imagined the golden river again, but this time, he visualized it as a stream of memories running through her mind. He saw her fear, her confusion, and then her vision of him—dark, twisted, a figure consumed by shadows. Her terror was wrapped around that image, deeply entangled.
With great care, Lin Xiao dipped into that stream and gently tugged at the threads of memory, carefully pulling the vision from her mind, unwinding the fear that gripped her. He imagined it like unraveling a delicate thread from a tapestry.
As he worked, the dark image of himself began to fade, the memory dissolving into nothingness. He was cautious not to cause any jarring gaps, skillfully filling in the spaces left behind with a sense of calm, as if nothing unusual had ever happened.
Her breathing, which had been shallow and ragged, began to even out. Lin Xiao opened his eyes briefly to see her features relax, her tense posture softening.
Next, he turned his focus to his mother. Her memory was different—still of him, but this time in peril. Her fear was one of loss, one of helplessness in watching him struggle against unseen forces.
He couldn't bear the thought of her carrying that burden, the fear of him being in constant danger.
Just like before, he reached into her mind, feeling the memory like a thread of golden light. He tugged at it gently, unraveling the vision of him surrounded by shadows and collapsing under the weight of the world.
Slowly, he erased it, soothing away the worry etched into her thoughts. The vision faded, and he left behind a sense of peace, as if she had seen nothing out of the ordinary. Her expression softened too, her brow unfurrowing as the fear faded from her mind.
As he finished, Lin Xiao pulled himself back into his own consciousness, the weight of what he had done pressing on him. His mother and sister were calmer now, their breathing steady, the fear erased from their minds.
Lin Xiao stood there, staring at them for a long moment, the silence heavy around him. He had taken away the memories, but he hadn't forgotten what they saw—what he saw. The burden of those possible futures now rested solely on his shoulders.
But at least, for now, they were safe from that knowledge.
However, just as Lin Xiao's mother and sister opened their eyes, their expressions flickered, the fear that he had carefully erased threatening to surge back.
Their gazes landed on him once more, and in that instant, Lin Xiao felt a sharp, unsettling shift in the air. Without hesitation, he activated his Memory Manipulation skill again, this time diving deeper into their minds with a sense of urgency.
As he connected with their thoughts, he was met not with the memories he had just erased, but with something entirely new—an image from the future. The vision unfolded before his eyes, vivid and alarming.
He found himself standing in a vast, desolate wasteland, the sky dark and churning with ominous clouds. In the center of it all was an enormous throne, towering over everything, made entirely of skulls.
The skulls were massive, each one as large as a planet, perhaps even as big as Earth itself. Their hollow eyes seemed to stare out into the void, lifeless yet filled with a haunting presence.
Atop the throne sat Lin Xiao—an older version of himself, draped in dark, regal robes that shimmered with an eerie energy. His eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth and humor he carried now.
They glowed faintly, reflecting the same golden hue that had flashed in the river from before. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of power and detachment, as if he had ascended to something far beyond human understanding.
The throne beneath him was soaked in darkness, the massive skulls stacked upon one another, creating a horrifying monument to his rule. Some were cracked, others pristine, but all were enormous, with faint remnants of whatever beings they once belonged to.
The sight was chilling, a grotesque symbol of dominance and destruction. The vast wasteland stretched endlessly before the throne, devoid of life, silent except for the distant, echoing whispers of the wind.
Lin Xiao could see the look of terror on his mother and sister's faces as they beheld this vision. Their future selves stood in the distance, watching helplessly as Lin Xiao—no, this darker, more powerful version of him—sat on his grim throne, his eyes surveying the void around him as if it were his kingdom. There was no joy in this future, only a cold, overwhelming sense of control.
And then, in the memory, the future Lin Xiao turned his gaze directly toward his mother and sister—toward the very people he cared about most.
His expression remained neutral, but the air around him crackled with an undeniable tension. He raised his hand slightly, and the skulls beneath him seemed to shift and groan, as if acknowledging his power.
Lin Xiao felt a chill run down his spine as he watched, unable to tear himself away from the vision. What had happened to him in this future? What had caused him to ascend to such a terrifying throne?