Jiang Chen drifted in darkness again.
But this time, it wasn't calm.
Cracks spread through the void around him, faint golden lines splintering like broken glass. Every pulse of energy felt unstable, as if the space itself could collapse at any moment.
"…You overreached."
The ancient voice returned.
Jiang Chen opened his eyes slowly. "…I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice."
Jiang Chen let out a quiet breath. "Then I chose to survive."
Silence followed.
Then the voice spoke again, calmer but heavier. "And now you face the consequence."
The golden fractures around them pulsed.
"Your body cannot contain Origin. Your mind cannot guide it. What you used… was not control."
"…Then what was it?"
"A leak."
Jiang Chen's gaze sharpened.
"You forced open something you do not understand," the voice continued. "And for a moment, it answered. But each time you do this, the backlash will worsen."
Jiang Chen clenched his fist. "Then I need to learn to control it."
"You cannot control Origin the way you control qi."
"…Then teach me how."
The voice was silent for a long moment.
Then—
"First, you must understand what it is."
The space around them shifted. The fractured void reformed slightly, revealing faint threads stretching in every direction—countless, interconnected, forming something vast and incomprehensible.
"This is Origin," the voice said. "Not energy. Not power. It is the foundation upon which power exists."
Jiang Chen watched the threads carefully.
"They respond to authority," the voice continued. "Not force."
"…Authority," Jiang Chen repeated quietly.
"You attempted to command it without the right to do so."
"And it still responded."
"Barely. And it nearly destroyed you."
Jiang Chen didn't argue.
"…So how do I gain that right?"
The threads pulsed faintly.
"By becoming something that can be recognized by it."
Jiang Chen frowned slightly. "That's vague."
"It is the truth."
The voice paused, then added, "You must rebuild yourself. Body. Mind. Foundation."
"…From the beginning?"
"…From deeper than that."
The space shattered again.
"Return," the voice said.
"And survive."
---
Jiang Chen's eyes snapped open.
Pain followed immediately.
His entire body felt like it had been torn apart and barely put back together. Even breathing sent sharp jolts through his chest.
"…He's awake."
Lin Xue's voice.
Jiang Chen turned his head slightly. She sat beside him, her expression calm but her eyes carrying clear concern.
"You've been out for two days," she added.
"…That long?" he muttered.
Zhou Yan stood near the window, arms crossed. "Long enough for things to get worse."
Chen Yu leaned against the wall. "Yeah. Clan's on edge. More patrols. More restrictions."
Han Wei smirked faintly. "And more rumors about you."
Jiang Chen pushed himself up slightly, wincing as pain shot through his body. "…What kind of rumors?"
"That you're either a genius… or a disaster waiting to happen," Zhou Yan replied.
"…Fair."
Lin Xue frowned slightly. "You shouldn't be moving yet."
"I don't have time to lie down," Jiang Chen said. "They're not going to stop."
Zhou Yan nodded. "…They won't."
Silence settled briefly.
Then Jiang Chen asked, "Training grounds?"
Chen Yu blinked. "You're serious?"
"Yes."
Han Wei laughed. "I like it."
Lin Xue didn't. "…Your body is barely holding together."
"I'm not training to get stronger," Jiang Chen said. "…I'm training so I don't die next time."
That ended the argument.
Zhou Yan stepped forward. "…Then we do it properly."
---
The secluded training courtyard was quiet, reinforced with defensive formations to prevent outside interference.
Jiang Chen stood at the center, breathing slowly.
His body still felt unstable, but his mind was clear.
"…Start small," Zhou Yan said. "No reckless moves."
Jiang Chen nodded.
He raised his hand.
Golden qi gathered first—familiar, stable.
Then, slowly—
He reached deeper.
The Origin Thread stirred faintly.
This time, he didn't force it.
He waited.
Observed.
Felt.
A thin strand appeared, flickering weakly around his fingers.
Unstable.
But present.
Jiang Chen didn't move it.
Didn't push it.
He simply held it there.
"…Good," Zhou Yan said quietly. "Maintain that."
Seconds passed.
Then—
The thread trembled.
Jiang Chen's breathing faltered slightly.
Pain crept in.
But he didn't force it further.
He released it.
The thread vanished.
Jiang Chen exhaled.
"…Again," he said.
Lin Xue watched closely, her frost aura subtly stabilizing the surrounding space to reduce interference.
Chen Yu stood ready, just in case something went wrong.
Han Wei observed with interest. "…So that's the thing that nearly killed you."
"…Yes," Jiang Chen replied.
"And you want to use it more?"
"…Yes."
Han Wei grinned. "…You're insane."
---
The second attempt was harder.
The thread appeared slower, weaker.
But this time—
It lasted longer.
Jiang Chen focused on its presence, not its power.
Its nature.
Its response.
"…It reacts to intent," he murmured.
Zhou Yan nodded. "Then refine your intent."
Jiang Chen adjusted.
Instead of commanding—
He guided.
Instead of forcing—
He aligned.
The thread steadied.
Slightly.
A small improvement.
But real.
Then—
Pain spiked again.
He released it immediately.
---
By the fifth attempt, sweat covered his body.
By the seventh, his breathing was uneven.
But the thread—
Was stabilizing.
---
"…That's enough," Lin Xue said firmly.
Jiang Chen shook his head. "…One more."
He raised his hand again.
The thread appeared.
Faint.
But steady.
For a few seconds—
It didn't tremble.
Didn't lash out.
Didn't collapse.
---
Then he let it go.
---
Silence followed.
---
Zhou Yan exhaled slowly. "…Progress."
Chen Yu grinned. "Yeah… scary progress."
Han Wei crossed his arms. "…Still looks dangerous."
Lin Xue stepped closer. "…But it's better."
Jiang Chen lowered his hand.
"…Not enough," he said.
But his eyes—
Were steady.
Focused.
---
Far away, hidden in darkness, a figure watched through an unseen link.
"…He's adapting."
Another voice responded, colder.
"…Then accelerate."
---
Back in the training courtyard, Jiang Chen looked at his hand again.
The Origin Thread no longer felt completely alien.
Still dangerous.
Still unstable.
But no longer unreachable.
---
"…Next time," he said quietly,
"…I won't lose control."
---
The training had begun.
And this time—
He would master it.