Nothingness.
Lian Wei floated in a place without shape, without direction. A white void, endless and consuming. It pressed against his soul like a fog that weighed a thousand mountains, muffling thought, memory, and identity.
He didn't know how long he drifted there.
Time had no meaning here. Only silence.
Then, a voice—resonant and distant—cut through the white haze.
[System Alert: Host consciousness integrity—72% stabilized.][Vital vessel: Destroyed.][Initiating emergency fallback—Archive Soul Protocol.]
Suddenly, his thoughts sharpened. He remembered the pain. The formation. Jin Cao's voice twisting with smug satisfaction. The stone fragments glowing with corrupt red light. The surge of energy, the collapse of the chamber, and Old Man Zhu's final act of sacrifice.
He should have died.
"You didn't."This time, the voice was different—less mechanical. Calm, steady. Ancient.It vibrated within his soul like a bell tolling in a forgotten temple.
"Am I… dead?" Lian Wei whispered, his voice echoing strangely into the void.
You were. You were shattered.But knowledge leaves echoes. And you… are an echo made whole.
The world around him began to change.
Cracks formed in the endless white, like fissures in porcelain. From within those cracks poured memories—light streams coiling through the air like ribbons. He saw his hands brushing dirt from ancient artifacts in a desert tomb. He saw the flicker of an ancient map he once hung in a university lecture hall.
Professor Lian Wei.
A world with no spiritual energy. No cultivation.
Another life, so far from this one… and yet—his.
"I really did live another life," he murmured.
Two lives. One soul. That is why the Spiral Meridian Method responded. That is why you survived.
From the fragments of the void, a platform emerged—formed not of stone, but of floating jade tablets and scrolls etched in glowing characters. He stood upon it, barefoot, yet the surface was warm and pulsing like a heartbeat.
All around him, thousands of glowing characters floated midair, rotating gently like planets around a sun. They shifted between languages—some he knew, others far older than any mortal tongue.
This was no illusion.
This was the Archive Core.
This is where fragments of forgotten truth gather. The soul-space born from your connection to the Archaeon Archive.It is also where you will build what others have lost—the Foundation Mind Palace.
The words struck deep. Lian Wei stared at his hands. They shimmered faintly, like spirit light condensed into form.
"Foundation Mind Palace…" he said aloud, recalling the name from the ancient fragments. "But that technique was forbidden. Destroyed."
Not destroyed. Suppressed. Hidden. Feared. The Mind Palace grants more than power—it grants control. And control threatens those who rule.
The platform beneath him changed. The jade slabs rearranged, forming a circular floor inscribed with concentric rings—each a layer of cultivation. But unlike traditional dantian maps, this one was multidimensional, hovering in the air like a living, breathing construct of thought and intent.
He knew, instinctively, that he could shape it.
Not with qi.
But with will.
You are no longer bound by meridians alone. Your cultivation will begin not in the body, but in the soul. Shape your palace—and define your path.
For the first time, Lian Wei understood.
This was what set the ancients apart. Before the Great Fracturing, cultivation wasn't merely about absorbing energy—it was about creating structures of meaning, of purpose. It was architecture of the self.
And now, he would build his own.
He closed his eyes.
In his mind, he envisioned a hall—a temple of vast columns and engraved walls, filled with shelves of glowing knowledge. Not a warrior's arena, but a scholar's sanctum. A spiral of stairs led upward from the center, twisting toward a skylight where symbols drifted like stars.
Each ring of the palace was carved with names. Not realms—questions.
"What came before us?""Why did we fall?""What power lies buried in time?"
As he willed it, the palace solidified. It pulsed with energy not of heaven or earth, but of memory and insight.
His soul had become a scholar's archive. His cultivation path: a convergence of discovery and adaptation.
Mind Palace constructed. Spiritual core stabilized. Spiral Meridian Method—partially assimilated.Warning: External soul tether weakening. Physical vessel required. Initiating search…
Lian Wei looked up. The stars of script above him spun faster, blurring together until they collapsed into a single point of piercing blue light.
Compatible vessel found. Rebirth Initiating. Host will awaken with limited physical integrity. Adjustments necessary.
The jade floor shattered beneath his feet. The Archive Core began to collapse into that single point of light. He was falling again—spiraling downward, not in terror this time, but in purpose.
As his body faded into streaks of blue essence, Lian Wei heard one final whisper from the Archive, spoken in the voice of every civilization that had ever been forgotten:
"What is lost can be found. What is found must be understood. What is understood… can change the world."