"Nine Divine Soul Bead Art," Fruity whispered as he read the name aloud. He didn't even need a second to look at the runic inscriptions, he immediately knew the meaning so he spoke the name.
The moment he said the words, the runes on the door began to light up, pulsing with energy. A low hum filled the air, and Fruity immediately felt a strange sensation in his chest as if something was calling out to him.
Fruity's heart raced faster as he approached the glowing door. "Is this it? Is this the technique meant for me?" he thought, moving closer. The light intensified, and suddenly, the door swung open again.
He expected to see the outside of the building, but what greeted him took him by surprise. Instead of the familiar surroundings, he saw a peaceful, evergreen space filled with vibrant flowers, rare plants, and birds flying about. Their soft chirping created a melody that instantly calmed him.
"What is this place?" Fruity muttered as he stepped through the doorway. The atmosphere was serene, unlike anything he had ever experienced. He could tell that this place wasn't part of the world he had come from. It felt like a completely different plane of existence.
"Finally, the renegade has appeared." Suddenly, a voice broke the silence.
Startled, Fruity jerked forward, his heart pounding again. He quickly turned around and saw a bald man sitting under an apple tree, draped in simple monk robes with heavy-looking prayer beads around his neck. The man sat calmly on a prayer mat, his presence powerful yet strangely peaceful.
"Who are you?" Fruity asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though he couldn't hide the fear creeping in. The monk's presence felt overwhelming, like a force of nature.
The monk smiled gently and gestured to a prayer mat across from him. "Come, sit down, Fruity."
Fruity hesitated but was too curious to refuse. As he sat down, he couldn't help but ask, "Grandpa, how do you know my name?" Since the monk hadn't introduced himself, Fruity gave him the same respectful title he used for the elder monks at the monastery.
The monk chuckled softly. "Names are easy to know, especially when the heavens have been watching you for a long time."
The monks didn't show it, but deep down, they were all wary of what was to come. They knew that no amount of training, secrecy, or careful covering of tracks could hide Fruity's existence forever. He was an oddity, something that didn't fit the natural order. And the heavens? They wouldn't allow such an oddity to grow.
Fruity's presence was like a crack in their design, something destined to be eradicated.
After observing Fruity for a while, the Monk spoke "Good. Now remember, you are who you choose to be. Don't let the rules or expectations of others change who you are meant to become. You are a Paragon, the bane of the heavens. Be one. Be the renegade, the one who defies all norms."
As the monk's words echoed in Fruity's mind, something strange happened. His vision began to darken, and before he could react, everything around him disappeared into blackness. The peaceful evergreen space was gone, and when his sight returned, he found himself standing in an empty, vast expanse. The place felt hollow and desolate, with no light to guide him and no life in sight.
A shiver ran down his spine. The darkness wasn't just a lack of light—it felt like something more, something pressing against his very soul.
Then, suddenly, a low, rhythmic chanting filled the air. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The words were strange, foreign, yet they stirred something deep inside Fruity. The chanting grew louder and more intense, and Fruity stood there, frozen in place as if drawn into a trance.
As the chanting continued, a sense of unease and wonder washed over him. His heart raced, but at the same time, he felt a strange calm, as though the chanting was meant for him, calling to him. The sound seemed to speak to the deepest parts of his soul, unlocking thoughts and emotions he didn't know he had.
He felt entranced, unable to move or look away. Something was happening—something beyond his understanding.
"What... is this place?" Fruity whispered, his voice swallowed by the vast emptiness around him. But no one answered.
The chanting intensified, filling his mind with images, symbols, and fragments of something greater. It was as if the very space he stood in was alive, pulsating with an ancient power that was reaching out to him.
Fruity didn't know what was happening, however, he soon got the answer. The chanting suddenly stopped and Fruity was left standing inside the Soul Temple. Somehow, he was back there.
He sighed, but just when he could move, something appeared in his mind, "The Nine Divine Soul Bead Art... It's the first form" He smiled and then walked out of the Temple with a smile playing on his lips.