The path had grown steeper as Li Zhen ventured further into the mountainous region. The air was thin, but his steps remained steady, fueled by a determination that had become second nature. His encounters with the various versions of himself had begun to stretch the boundaries of his mind. Each version offered a glimpse of what could have been, each one a shadow of the man he might have become, and yet none of them felt truly like him. They were merely fragments—fragments of a past he could not fully remember, and yet they seemed to define him in ways that he could not escape.
The village he had just left felt distant, but the unsettling feeling it left lingered. The mirror, the reflection—something about it gnawed at him. The truth he sought was buried under layers of lies, not just his own but the world's as well. He could feel it all pressing against him, suffocating him.
He needed to move forward. He needed to find something—anything—that might lead him to answers.
It was as he descended from the mountain pass, his thoughts clouded by the weight of his journey, that he stumbled upon the entrance to a hidden valley. The dense trees parted as he stepped into the clearing, revealing an ancient temple. Its architecture was unlike anything Li Zhen had seen before—its spires rose like jagged claws against the sky, and the walls were covered in strange symbols, their meanings lost to time.
Curiosity drew him closer. Despite the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, he felt compelled to investigate. As he approached the gates, they creaked open as if they had been waiting for him, revealing a courtyard that seemed untouched by time. In the center of the courtyard stood a massive statue, an image of a man, carved from stone but so lifelike that it seemed as though he could step down at any moment. The man in the statue was unmistakable.
It was him.
Li Zhen froze in his tracks, his eyes locking onto the figure. The details were uncanny—the sharpness of the jaw, the way the eyes were sculpted as though they could see right through him. There was no doubt in his mind that this statue was of him, or rather, of a version of him.
For a moment, he stood there, staring at the statue, until a soft voice broke the silence.
"Master," the voice whispered, and Li Zhen turned to see a figure standing in the shadows of the temple's doorway. It was a man, cloaked in a robe of simple fabric, his head bowed as if in reverence.
Li Zhen instinctively took a step back, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The man raised his head slowly, revealing a face that was eerily familiar. It was a face that belonged to him, yet it was not his.
"Master," the man repeated, his voice filled with awe. "You have returned to us."
Li Zhen's heart skipped a beat. This man spoke as though he had known him, as though he had been waiting for him. But he had never seen this man before in his life. "I... I am not your master," Li Zhen said, his voice filled with uncertainty.
The man's eyes widened, confusion crossing his features. "But you are. You must be. The prophecies... they said you would return."
"Prophecies?" Li Zhen asked, his brow furrowing. "What are you talking about?"
The man stepped forward, his hands trembling as he gestured toward the statue. "The Silent Sect has awaited your return for generations. Our god, Zhen the Eternal, who led us to enlightenment, has returned. You are he, aren't you? You were the one who founded our order. You taught us the way to transcend the world of suffering."
Li Zhen took a step back, his mind racing. Zhen the Eternal—he had never heard of this before. This sect, this place—none of it made sense. But the man's words had a ring of truth to them, as if he truly believed every word he spoke. The more Li Zhen looked around, the more he realized that the people here all seemed to share the same unwavering conviction. They were waiting for something—no, for someone. And they believed, with every fiber of their being, that Li Zhen was the one they had been waiting for.
"Look at us, Master," the man continued, his voice filled with reverence. "We have lived in silence for so long, awaiting the return of our god. And now, you have come back to us."
Li Zhen felt a chill run down his spine. He was not sure what to make of this. A cult—these people were clearly worshiping him, but he was not their god. He had never been anyone's god. And yet, here they were, looking to him as though he were the answer to their every prayer.
"I am not your god," Li Zhen said again, his voice more forceful this time. "I do not belong here."
But the man's eyes only grew more insistent. "You do. You must. You are Zhen the Eternal, the one who transcended death and returned to guide us. Please, Master, do not turn away from us now."
The man stepped closer, his hands reaching out to touch Li Zhen's arm, but Li Zhen pulled away sharply. There was an overwhelming sense of dread building within him, the weight of the situation pressing down on him with each passing second. These people, these worshippers—they would not let him go. They would not understand.
The man's face fell, a deep sadness washing over him. "We have waited for you for so long. Please, do not forsake us."
The air around Li Zhen grew heavy, the oppressive silence of the sect closing in on him. He could feel the eyes of the other followers now, watching him from the shadows, waiting for his response. Every movement, every breath felt like it was being scrutinized.
He needed to leave. Now.
"I cannot stay," Li Zhen said, his voice firm. "I have my own path to walk. I am not the one you think I am. I am not your god."
He turned and began to walk away, but the followers stirred. A few stepped forward, blocking his path, their faces filled with a mix of confusion and desperation.
"Please, Master," one of them said, her voice trembling. "Do not leave us again. We need you."
Li Zhen drew his sword, its cold metal flashing in the dim light. "I am not your god," he repeated, his voice unwavering. "And if you try to stop me, I will not hesitate to defend myself."
For a long moment, the followers stared at him, the silence stretching between them like an invisible barrier. And then, as if on some unspoken command, they stepped back, allowing him to pass.
Li Zhen did not look back as he exited the temple. His heart was heavy, the weight of their belief pressing down on him. He did not know what had happened to the version of himself who had founded this sect, but he knew one thing for certain—he was not the one they thought him to be. He could never be.
As he left the temple and disappeared into the forest, the echoes of their chants followed him, faint but persistent. "Zhen the Eternal… Zhen the Eternal…"
Li Zhen pushed forward, determined to leave the past—and these misguided souls—behind. But deep within, he knew that the path ahead would not be so simple. His journey was far from over, and the answers he sought still lay somewhere out there, waiting for him to find them.