Stan needed a moment to process what had just happened. His eyes scanned the room, taking in his surroundings. It was the same place he had been right before the searing pain shot through his head.
"What happened?" Stan asked, his gaze locking onto Elder Rooney.
Elder Rooney looked at him thoughtfully before responding. "First, you need to tell us what happened to you. While you were in that state, did you see anything unusual?" he asked, his tone calm but concerned.
Stan remembered everything. The memories were vivid, especially the surge of anger he had felt. He began recounting the events to the others, every detail still fresh in his mind. As he spoke, he noticed the expressions on their faces. They seemed... familiar with what he was describing.
"Was that my memory?" Stan asked, puzzled. "But you told me it was traded," he added, his confusion deepening.
"That's why I'm confused as well," Elder Rooney replied, his face tense with uncertainty.
Stan's frustration grew, and he clenched his fists, his voice rising. "Who were those people attacking me?" he demanded, his grip tightening as his body tensed.
It had been nearly 15 years since Stan had awoken from a five-year coma. But waking up had come with a heavy price. First, his cultivation had been lost. Stan had once been able to store external energy within his body, a crucial ability for progressing to the next stage of his evolution. But now, that power was gone, leaving him stuck at a plateau he couldn't break through.
Another tragedy was his memory—or rather, the lack of it. While some fragments remained, Stan had no recollection of the events leading to his coma. Any details related to that time were completely wiped from his mind. The memories he did have were faded, like a painting left out in the sun too long, the details blurred beyond recognition.
When he had first awoken and asked others about what happened, their answers were vague, offering no real insight. No one seemed to know—or was willing to say—how he ended up in such a state.
"Calm down, Stan," Elder Rooney said gently, sensing Stan's growing anger. "I'll explain everything. Just take a moment to breathe." He, too, seemed unsettled by the situation but was trying to maintain a calm demeanor for Stan's sake.
Stan took a deep breath, but his mind was racing.
Elder Rooney continued, "The vision you saw—that was indeed your memory. It was the event that ultimately led you to this state. And unfortunately, it happened because of the path you chose back then."
Stan's heart pounded as the elder's words sunk in. This path? What path? What had he gotten himself into?
The others stood silently, watching Stan, their curiosity growing with each word he spoke. They seemed unsure of where this conversation was heading, and a sense of unease settled over the room.
"Unfortunately, we weren't able to gather any information on what truly happened," Elder Rooney began, his voice serious. "Right before the fight broke out, you used your command on us—ordering us not to intervene. We were lucky that I managed to bypass your influence just enough to witness the events, but we couldn't interfere," he explained, his eyes meeting Stan's with a hint of frustration.
Stan listened carefully, his brows furrowing. Elder Rooney continued, "You fought well, but those you were up against were highly skilled. It didn't take long for the battle to turn against you. As your life became more endangered, something strange happened—your command on us started to weaken. But by the time we were able to step in, the enemy had already dealt you a devastating blow to the head. That hit almost killed you."
Stan's fists clenched. He could almost feel the pain now, remembering the moment when everything had gone dark.
"None of the healers were able to help you, not even with the use of the green breath. In all honesty, you were dead—your body simply refused to stop functioning. In the end, we had no other option but to use powerful dark magic to bring you back. The magic we used is called Equivalent Exchange," Elder Rooney said solemnly.
Stan's breath hitched. Dark magic? He had always known there was a cost, but he hadn't been prepared for this.
Elder Rooney's expression grew even more serious. "This magic comes with a heavy price. It took away your most cherished memories and your evolution path."
Stan blinked, trying to make sense of everything. "Then how did I manage to remember something? If my memory was supposed to be gone, how did I recall that fight?" he asked, his confusion deepening.
Elder Rooney sighed. "I think the memory you recalled wasn't considered one of your most cherished, or perhaps the magic didn't erase them completely. It's possible that your memories are returning to you, slowly but surely." The elder's face betrayed a flicker of worry.
Before Stan could respond, Caspian broke the tension with a chuckle. "Hahaha... You know, when I first heard you'd lose your most cherished memories, I was worried you'd forget all about us. Turns out we aren't that important to you after all!" Caspian teased, his laughter filling the room.
"Stop talking nonsense," Stan muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and planting his feet firmly on the ground.
He turned to Elder Rooney, his voice steady but firm. "These cherished memories—do you know what they were?"
The room fell silent, the tension thickening. Stan dared to hope, but it was dashed when Elder Rooney finally spoke again. "As I said before, you commanded us not to get involved. We have no idea what those cherished memories were."
Stan gritted his teeth. The frustration gnawed at him, but before he could respond, Peter spoke up from his corner of the room. "Yeah, another reason you should stop using your influence so recklessly. Look at me—still stuck here because of your command!" Peter grumbled, his arms crossed, glaring at Stan.
Stan sighed heavily, the weight of it all pressing down on him. "You can move now," he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.
Almost immediately, Peter felt the invisible force holding him release. He flexed his arms and legs, relieved to have his mobility restored. "About time," Peter muttered, stretching out and shaking off the stiffness in his limbs.
Stan remained seated on the edge of the bed, his mind racing as he tried to piece together what had happened to him. The weight of everything was pressing in on him, and even though the answers were beginning to emerge, they only led to more questions.
After stretching his body for a moment, Peter looked at the others, his face serious and focused. The room felt tense as if everyone was waiting for what he had to say.
"You all seem to have missed something important during Elder Rooney's explanation," Peter began, his voice calm but grave. "The magic we used on Stan—it's dark magic. It follows the law of equivalent exchange. To stop him from dying, the magic had to trade something for the second chance at life it was giving him. That trade was his qi core and parts of his memory," Peter explained, looking directly at Stan.
Stan remained silent, absorbing the weight of Peter's words.
"However," Peter continued, "for some reason, a part of your memory has come back. I'm not sure how or why, but what if, as time passes, all of your memories return? And maybe—just maybe—your qi core could come back too," Peter said, his tone filled with cautious hope.
Theron, who had been quiet up until this point, spoke up, his voice soft but hopeful. "Wouldn't that be a good thing? Stan could just wait, and eventually, he'll be back to normal."
But before Theron could finish his thought, Caspian raised his hand to stop him, placing it gently in front of him. "Not so fast," Caspian interjected, his tone more serious. "Your brain isn't built to handle things like this, Theron."
Caspian then turned his attention to Stan, his expression darkening. "If your memories are returning, and there's a chance your evolution path might come back, it means the equivalent exchange is reversing itself. And do you know what that means?" he asked, pausing to let the weight of his words sink in. "It means that whatever the magic gave you in the first place—your second chance at life—it will take it back."
Stan's heart sank, his voice quieter than usual as he asked, "Are you saying I'm going to die?"
Caspian nodded slowly, his face grim. "That's the most likely outcome," he said, his voice heavy with finality.
A thick silence fell over the room. Each person seemed lost in their own thoughts, trying to make sense of the situation. The air felt heavy with tension, and for a moment, no one spoke.
Peter, however, kept his eyes on Elder Rooney, who subtly glanced in his direction and gave a slight wink—something the others didn't notice. It was a small gesture, but Peter understood there was more going on beneath the surface.
Eventually, Stan broke the silence, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "Is there anything we can do about it?"
Elder Rooney, who had been silently observing the conversation, finally spoke up, his voice calm but confident. "Of course, there's something you can do. You'll need to find a new evolution path for yourself, or better yet, find a way to reclaim your old one before it returns on its own," he explained.
Stan listened intently, his mind racing with possibilities.
"And you know," Elder Rooney added, a slight smirk forming on his lips, "there's someone here who can help us with that." His smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with a knowing look. To him, everything seemed to be falling into place, just as he had planned.