Act IV: Core Formation: Unveiling the Unknown

Three days later—suspended in the vast expanse of the white void—Nihil sat unmoving, as if carved from stone. His figure, silhouetted against the infinite whiteness, seemed both insignificant and monumental, like a single point of awareness amidst eternity. For three days, he had cultivated without pause, his focus unwavering. In this timeless realm, three days felt like both an instant and an age, and though the progress he made in his cultivation was notable, it was far from the monumental breakthrough he had longed for.

As his crimson eyes slowly opened, a faint glimmer of energy danced across his irises before fading into their familiar, intense glow. The first thing he saw was the white void—featureless, endless, and oppressive in its vastness. Yet, it wasn't empty, not entirely. Surrounding him were blocks of energy, shimmering like fractured shards of light, drifting and spinning with a chaotic elegance. They pulsed with life, drawing in massive amounts of energy from the void around them, so much so that this particular space seemed to thrum with power. It held three times the energy of any other place in this endless nothingness, a small yet potent anomaly amidst infinity.

Nihil's gaze lingered on these blocks, creations born of his own essence, their purpose as unclear as the void they occupied. They circled him with unimaginable speed, their movements blurring into streaks of light. Despite their brilliance, they failed to stir anything in him but a faint, dull ache of disappointment.

He exhaled deeply, his voice breaking the silence in a soft, drawn-out sigh. "Haaaaa…" The sound dissipated into the void, leaving only the faint hum of the energy blocks in its wake. His crimson eyes, calm yet tinged with a quiet dissatisfaction, shifted from the orbiting blocks to the empty space beyond them. The nothingness stretched endlessly in all directions, unchanging and absolute. Here, there was nothing—no form, no sound, no presence. Only him.

The weight of this realization pressed against him, as it always did. For a fleeting moment, the disappointment within him began to ebb, replaced instead by a growing question, one that tugged at the edges of his mind with quiet insistence. It was a question he had avoided asking for what felt like an eternity, yet it now demanded to be voiced. Slowly, deliberately, he parted his lips and spoke.

"What am I?"

The words hung in the air, soft yet profound, their weight magnified by the vast silence of the void. The tone of his voice carried a mix of curiosity and an unfamiliar hollowness, a void within himself that felt deeper than the emptiness around him.

"What is the reason for this?" he murmured again, his voice quieter now, as if he were afraid of the answer—or perhaps afraid there was none. He searched his mind for explanations, probing the endless depths of his thoughts. Yet, for all his intellect and power, the answers eluded him. His ideas felt paradoxical, finite yet infinite, like they held everything and nothing at once.

The question lingered, growing heavier with every passing moment. Why do I exist? This thought consumed him, rising above all others. It became the sole truth in his mind, an obsession that refused to fade. But then, suddenly, a thought broke through the storm of his uncertainty—a paradoxical answer that left him both enlightened and unsatisfied.

Why ask at all?

The simplicity of it struck him like a whisper in the void, resonating with unexpected clarity. His lips moved silently, repeating the thought to himself before his voice broke the silence once more.

"Why ask?" he said softly, the words carrying a strange mix of wonder and acceptance. His gaze, which had been lost in the infinite void, began to sharpen. Slowly, the faint gleam of realization lit up his crimson eyes.

"Why ask," he said again, his voice stronger now, "when I can find the answer for myself?"

A faint smile formed on his lips, tentative at first but growing as his thoughts solidified. The doubt and emptiness that had weighed him down moments ago began to transform into something else entirely—a purpose, clear and undeniable.

"If I don't know," Nihil declared, his voice steady, "then I will simply become strong enough to find out. I will cultivate even when my determination falters. I will cultivate even when it feels pointless!"

The power of his words echoed through the void, filling the endless white space with a newfound resolve. His crimson eyes blazed with intensity, their light reflecting a promise that burned within him—a vow forged in the depths of his own uncertainty.

The blocks of energy that circled him seemed to resonate with his resolve, their chaotic movements growing steadier, more synchronized. They became like an extension of his will, orbiting him as if drawn by the gravity of his determination.

The questions that had plagued him, the answers he had sought, and the doubts he had faced now coexisted within him, forming the foundation of his newfound clarity. In his eyes, the questions were both everything and nothing—paradoxes he would chase endlessly, driven not by despair but by insatiable curiosity.

Smiling once more, Nihil turned his gaze back to the infinite void. The emptiness no longer felt oppressive; instead, it seemed alive with potential, a blank canvas waiting for him to leave his mark. Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and returned to his cultivation, the fire of his purpose burning brighter than ever as he resolved to uncover the truths hidden within the endless nothingness.

..........................

After six more days of continuous cultivation, Nihil's crimson eyes opened once more. This time, they gleamed with newfound purpose, as though they had finally discovered a goal to strive toward. For a moment, his gaze rested on the blocks of energy orbiting him in perfect synchronization. He observed them silently, a flicker of satisfaction passing across his face. A small, approving smile formed on his lips.

"Good," he said, his voice steady and calm, the smile refusing to fade. He remained focused on the blocks of energy—creations born of his essence, designed to fulfill an important purpose that only he understood.

But after a few moments, his attention drifted. His gaze turned away from the spinning blocks and toward the endless void, the infinite whiteness that surrounded him. As he stared into its emptiness, a wave of frustration stirred within him, reminding him of the earlier doubts and questions that had momentarily consumed him. He exhaled sharply, his smile fading as irritation began to creep into his expression.

"Why did I even ask those questions?" he muttered, his tone laced with self-directed anger. The memory of those inquiries—questions about his existence, about the purpose of it all—now felt like foolish distractions. "I told myself that the answers would come through cultivation, so why did I waste my time asking?"

His voice carried both frustration and a faint hint of embarrassment. Placing a hand to his forehead, he shook his head slowly, as though scolding himself. For a brief moment, he sat like this, caught in the tangle of his own thoughts. Then, as if snapping out of it, he lifted his head. The crimson glow of his eyes sharpened, their focus no longer clouded by unnecessary doubts.

"Hm..." he murmured, a thoughtful sound escaping his lips. A faint smile returned to his face as something resurfaced in his mind, something important that he had forgotten amidst the chaos of his earlier thoughts.

"It seems," he began, his tone light with amusement, "that in all my excitement and questioning, I forgot to name this stage of cultivation." He chuckled softly, the sound carrying a note of self-deprecation. "How could I forget something so important?"

With his resolve now clear, Nihil closed his eyes, retreating into the depths of his mind. Within the recesses of his consciousness, a small, gray core floated before him. It was no larger than his thumb, but its presence was undeniable. He reached out, running his hand lightly over its surface, as though seeking inspiration through touch.

Observing and gently touching the core within his mind for a moment, Nihil allowed himself to immerse in its presence. The sensation was subtle but profound, as though the core was not just a physical construct but an embodiment of something much deeper—his own progress, his own potential.

As he lingered in contemplation, inspiration struck him like a sudden whisper in the vast silence of his mind. "Perhaps," he began, his voice soft and musing, "since this is a core... and while it has already formed, it still seems to strengthen and evolve..." He paused, considering the words forming in his thoughts. "I'll call this stage... Core Formation."

As he spoke, he withdrew his hand, letting it rest beneath his chin. His fingers traced along his jawline as a faint smile played across his lips. There was a lightness in his expression, the kind of satisfaction that came from giving shape to something undefined, from finding clarity amidst the abstract.

After a moment, he nodded to himself and extended a finger toward the core. "From this moment forward," he declared, "this cultivation stage will be called Core Formation."

With that, he withdrew from his mental space, his eyes opening once more in the vast, empty void. Another thought surfaced, unbidden.

"But will this stage have nine sub-levels?" he mused aloud, sitting quietly as he contemplated the question. After a pause, he shook his head dismissively. "It doesn't matter for now. I haven't even completed the first level yet. I'll think about it when the time comes."

Relaxing again, Nihil exhaled deeply, allowing his body to settle into stillness. His mind felt clear, unburdened by doubts or unnecessary thoughts. Closing his eyes, he attempted to let go entirely, seeking a moment of true peace.

"....."

"....."

Yet peace remained elusive. A new thought wormed its way into his mind, persistent and unrelenting. His brows furrowed in irritation, and his eyes snapped open.

"Why do ideas and questions always come to me when I just want to relax?!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the void beneath him. The space, as ever, remained indifferent, offering no reaction.

His handsome face twisted in frustration, though even in his anger, it retained a sharp, captivating beauty that seemed unshaken by emotion. Running a hand through his dark, star-like hair, Nihil sighed, trying to calm himself. The irritation in his crimson eyes softened, though it didn't disappear entirely.

"If the thought has already come to me," he muttered, his voice low but firm, "then I may as well use it."

With that, he rose from his seated position, his movements deliberate and composed. Steeling his mind, he prepared for what he was about to do.

"Hm… let's begin," he said, the words carrying a note of calm determination. Slowly, his domain began to manifest, radiating outward from his body in a controlled flow. He didn't expand it to its full potential—just a small area around him, enough for his purpose.

"Only a little," he whispered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead—not from exertion, but from the tension of precise control.

The domain stretched into the void, and as it did, streams of information began to flow into his mind. Unlike before, when such influxes had overwhelmed him, the process was slow and orderly, unfolding according to his will.

As he observed the void through the lens of his domain, Nihil's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of awe breaking through his usual composure. "Wow," he murmured, the single word carrying a depth of wonder he had not felt in a long time.

For the first time, he truly saw the nothingness—its vastness, its intricacies, its hidden potential. The clarity he experienced was exhilarating, and as he continued to watch and learn, a faint smile returned to his lips. Slowly but surely, he began to understand.