Chapter 14: Pillars of the universe

The cold wind brushed against my skin, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and incense from the nearby temple halls. The evening sky was painted in a deep shade of indigo, streaked with golden threads of the setting sun. Somewhere beyond the horizon, the world continued as it always did—seasons shifting, empires rising and falling, the cycle of life and death repeating like a tale told over and over again.

And yet, here in the clan's ancestral courtyard, time felt as though it had momentarily paused.

Beneath the great oak tree, where the roots twisted and burrowed deep into the earth like the veins of an ancient beast, a gathering had formed. The young ones sat in a half-circle upon woven mats, their eyes wide with curiosity as they listened to Old Man Mu Tao, the clan's revered storyteller and scholar. His voice, worn yet firm, carried the weight of history—his every word was an echo of the past, a thread in the grand tapestry of knowledge.

I stood at a distance, cloth in hand, idly dusting off an old wooden table as I listened. My mind drifted between his words and my own thoughts, caught in the balance between learning and reminiscing.

Mu Tao spoke of the universe's five great pillars, the fundamental forces that governed existence itself.

"Death is the natural end of all things, living or not," he began, his gaze sweeping across the gathered children. "The 'end' of all things is a constant, an inevitability. Death is but one of the great pillars that hold the universe together."

The younglings shivered at his tone. Some looked frightened; others leaned forward, enraptured.

I exhaled through my nose, feeling a slight sense of amusement. The clan had grown soft over the years. The days of brutal trials and ruthless discipline had faded with time, replaced by gentler teachings. These children—descendants of warriors, sons and daughters of the men and women I had once trained alongside—were not as hardened as we had been.

Mu Tao continued, unfazed by their unease.

"The Five Great Pillars," he declared, "are the forces that uphold the very fabric of existence. Number Five: The Constant of Inevitability and Death. Number Four: The Goddess-Mother of Depravity and Destruction. Number Three: The Lord of the Rings, the Lord of the Night—'He' who dominates the spirit world, the highest overseeing divinity, the one who controls the Astral Express. Number Two: Mister King Over Heaven, the Dominator of the Astral World, the Omniscient and Omnipotent. The King of Angels, the Ruler of the Mansion of Silence. And lastly, Number One: The Original Creator—The Absolute Being, The One who forged all gods and all realms.

"Numbers Two and Three are but extensions of the Original Creator's will—personas, if you will."

A heavy silence followed his words.

I continued to clean, my fingers tracing over the rough edges of the old table as I pondered his teachings. I had heard of these forces before—tales whispered in the dead of night, passed down through generations. But to hear them spoken of with such certainty made them feel more tangible, more real.

One of the bolder children, a boy with bright, eager eyes, grinned and declared, "Heh! One day when I'm older, I'll become the Dominator of the Spirit World!"

Some of the other children laughed, nodding in agreement. It was the kind of childish ambition that came with innocence—the belief that power was something one could simply obtain with enough effort.

Mu Tao chuckled, his gray hair shifting in the wind. "Ah, so you wish to become a Lord of the Night, do you?"

The boy puffed out his chest. "Yeah! Why not?"

"Youngsters," Mu Tao sighed, "becoming a Half-Pillar of the Universe is possible for those who have the strength to shake the heavens. But to become a Full Pillar… that is a different matter entirely."

The boy frowned. "Why not? And what's a Half-Pillar?"

Mu Tao folded his arms, his expression growing serious.

"Half-Pillars," he explained, "are those who hold influence over a portion of the universe's foundation, but they are not complete manifestations of the laws themselves. Some beings can ascend to this state through great power, divine favor, or sheer will. But a Full Pillar—one who truly embodies the laws of existence—cannot be challenged lightly. To claim such a title would mean withstanding the wrath of those who already hold dominion. And tell me, child…"

His gaze darkened.

"Do you truly believe you can survive the fury of those who are the universe itself?"

A shiver ran through the gathered children. The boy swallowed, his confidence faltering.

The moment passed, and another child quickly changed the subject. "Oh yeah! Does the Spirit World actually exist?!"

Mu Tao raised a brow. "The Spirit World? I would have expected more intrigue about the Mansion of Silence… but yes, the Spirit World exists."

Murmurs of excitement rippled through the children.

"It is a place beyond mortal comprehension. A realm where past, present, and future intersect. A higher dimension, separate from our own."

I found myself leaning in slightly, listening more intently. I had always wondered about such things.

The same curious child from before tilted his head. "Higher dimension?"

Mu Tao smiled. "Ah, you will come to understand higher dimensions as you grow."

"But what is a higher dimension?" another child pressed.

Mu Tao chuckled again, shaking his head. "Youngsters are always so curious. Very well, if you insist. We exist in three-dimensional space—height, length, and width. You move forward, backward, left, right, up, and down. Everything around us, from the houses we live in to the objects we use, has three dimensions."

He gestured to the sky.

"But beyond this, there are higher dimensions—planes of existence that defy our perception. The fourth dimension is often considered to be time itself. A being that exists in the fourth dimension would see all of time at once, past and future laid before them like an open book."

Some of the children looked skeptical, others awestruck.

Mu Tao continued, "There are those who theorize the existence of even greater dimensions—beings that can manipulate the laws of reality itself. Gods, perhaps. Or something even beyond them."

I frowned, deep in thought. He speaks of higher realms, but does he know of the Dark Tower?

The conversation carried on, the children eagerly asking more questions, their hunger for knowledge unquenchable. I remained where I was, quietly observing, considering what had been said.

The universe was vast, filled with laws and principles beyond our comprehension. Some forces were so powerful that merely knowing their names could break the minds of mortals, reducing them to husks of incomprehensible madness.

And yet…

Some still dared to seek them out.

Shu sat quietly, dusting a rag as he listened to the conversation between Old Man Mu Tao and the younglings. Though he had no intention of joining their discussion, he found himself intrigued by their curiosity. The old man's words carried weight, his voice a bridge between myth and reality, between the tangible world and the unknowable vastness beyond.

One particularly excitable child, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm, eagerly asked, "And what about the Mansion of Silence?"

The other children groaned, clearly used to his boundless curiosity. One boy scoffed, folding his arms. "Of course you'd want to know about that."

The first child turned to him with an offended expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You read so many comics," the other replied with a smirk. "Obviously, you'd be interested in something called the 'Mansion of Silence.'"

Ah, comics, Shu thought to himself. A relatively recent phenomenon that had originated in the neighboring continent of Vaeloria before making its way to Xuan, spreading like wildfire among the youth. Though Shu had never taken an interest in them himself, he could understand why fantasy stories fascinated the younger generation. Tales of heroes, gods, and vast cosmic battles allowed them to dream beyond their everyday lives.

Mu Tao chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, no need to bicker," he said, waving his hand to calm them. Then, turning his attention back to the eager child, he continued, "Now, as for the Mansion of Silence… That is a place far beyond your understanding."

The children leaned forward in anticipation.

"The Mansion of Silence," Mu Tao began, "is said to exist infinitely above the Spirit World, beyond time itself. It is an unfathomable expanse, stretching beyond all known reality. Unlike the Spirit World, which is already a higher-dimensional space intersecting past, present, and future, the Mansion of Silence is something else entirely. It is beyond even that—an existence above existence itself."

The excitable child gasped, his eyes wide with wonder. "So it's even bigger than the Spirit World? Even higher?"

Mu Tao nodded. "It is infinitely vast and infinitely beyond time. The Mansion of Silence does not exist in the way you understand existence—it is a realm untouched by the constraints of physical reality, a place where even the highest gods must tread carefully."

A few of the children shifted uneasily. There was something deeply unsettling about the idea of a place so far removed from their understanding.

"In the ancient book World and Realms, written by the scholar Zhang Wei, it is said that the Mansion of Silence was created by the Omniscient and Omnipotent—the one who rules over all knowledge and reality. In Zhang Wei's writings, the Mansion of Silence is described as a fifth-dimensional realm."

The excitable child's mouth hung open. "Fifth-dimensional?! That sounds so cool!"

Mu Tao's expression darkened slightly. "Curiosity is good, child," he said, his voice carrying a quiet warning. "But do not let it lead you too far. Curiosity kills the bird."

The boy frowned, but before he could argue, another child raised a hand. "But… why do some people call it a fifth-dimensional realm? And if that's true, why do others say it's even higher?"

A thoughtful smile crossed Mu Tao's face. "A good question," he said, nodding approvingly. "The truth is, while Zhang Wei classified the Mansion of Silence as a fifth-dimensional world, many scholars and philosophers have debated its true nature. Some claim it is a tenth-dimensional realm, others believe it reaches the fourteenth dimension, and still, there are theories that place it even higher—at the seventeenth dimension or beyond."

The children murmured among themselves, struggling to grasp the implications of such vast, incomprehensible numbers. Shu himself found the discussion interesting, though he had heard theories like these before.

"What is a fifth-dimensional world, anyway?" one of the children asked hesitantly.

Mu Tao stroked his beard. "That is not an easy question to answer," he admitted. "But I will explain as best I can."

He raised a hand and pointed to the ground. "Imagine a simple creature living in a two-dimensional world. To that creature, reality consists only of length and width. It cannot comprehend depth—it does not even have the concept of 'up' or 'down.' If you were to place your hand above this creature, it would have no way of perceiving it. You would be beyond its understanding, like a god looking down from another plane of existence."

The children nodded, slowly following along.

"Now," Mu Tao continued, "we, as humans, live in a three-dimensional world. We experience length, width, and height. But what if there was a fourth dimension? A direction beyond the three we know? To us, such a dimension would be as incomprehensible as 'up' and 'down' would be to a two-dimensional creature."

He gestured outward. "Many believe that time is the fourth dimension—a vast, continuous flow that we experience moment by moment but cannot move through freely."

One of the older children furrowed his brow. "But if the fourth dimension is time, then what would the fifth dimension be?"

Mu Tao gave a knowing smile. "That is where things become even more complex. The fifth dimension is theorized to be a space of possibilities, where every potential outcome, every branching path, exists simultaneously. In the Mansion of Silence, it is said that all knowledge—past, present, and future—exists at once. There is no 'before' or 'after,' no 'here' or 'there.' Everything simply is."

The children sat in stunned silence. Shu, too, found himself contemplating the implications of such a place. If true, the Mansion of Silence was not just a realm beyond time—it was a place that transcended all limitations of reality.

"But then," the excitable child asked in a small voice, "if the Mansion of Silence is a fifth-dimensional world… why do some say it's even higher?"

Mu Tao's expression grew somber. "Because there are some who believe that the Mansion of Silence is not merely a realm of knowledge—but a place where all things originate. Some say it exists in the tenth dimension, where all possible realities converge. Others claim it reaches into the seventeenth dimension, where even the laws of logic break down. These are only theories, but one thing remains certain: the Mansion of Silence is a place beyond comprehension, a world that only the highest beings can enter."

The excitable child shivered. "It sounds… scary."

Mu Tao chuckled softly. "It should be. There is wisdom in caution. Not all knowledge is meant for mortals to grasp."

The conversation fell into a hush, the weight of Mu Tao's words lingering in the air. Shu found himself lost in thought. Higher dimensions, the Spirit World, the Mansion of Silence… If even a fraction of these myths were true, then the universe was far vaster and more complex than anyone could truly understand.

And perhaps, somewhere out there, beyond time and space, the truth waited in silence.

Mu Tao rested his hands on his cane, surveying the wide-eyed children before him. Their young minds, still unburdened by the weight of reality, clung to his every word as he unraveled the grand workings of existence.

"This is something you should all learn," he said, his voice steady yet distant, as though speaking not just to them, but to the cosmos itself. "Epochs and Enochs—two forces that shape the flow of time."

The children leaned in. Even the more skeptical among them couldn't help but listen.

"An epoch," Mu Tao continued, "is a great era, a defined span of time in which civilization, fate, and existence itself unfold. Each epoch lasts 10,000 years. There are ten epochs in total, forming a grand cycle of 100,000 years. But when those ten epochs pass, something far greater occurs."

He paused, letting the silence settle over them before he uttered the word.

"A Enoch."

Some of the younger children shivered at how the word sounded, heavy and absolute. One of the bolder ones, the excitable boy from earlier, tilted his head. "What's an Enoch? You said it happens every 100,000 years, but what is it?"

Mu Tao exhaled through his nose. "A Enoch is not simply an event, child—it is an annihilation. A reset. The destruction of all things, followed by the birth of a new universe."

The children froze. A few exchanged nervous glances.

"But," he added, his voice calm, "there is no need to fear. We are currently in the fifth epoch. We are only halfway through the cycle, so none of you will live to see a Enoch."

The excitable boy furrowed his brow. "But… what causes it? Why does the universe end?"

Mu Tao tapped his cane against the ground. "Because of the fourth pillar."

The Pillars of the Universe

"There are four Pillars," Mu Tao explained, pacing slowly, "four fundamental forces that shape and sustain the universe. These Pillars are not gods, nor mere ideas—they are the very constants that define reality itself. And no," he added, anticipating a question, "the Original Creator is not one of them."

The children nodded slowly, absorbing the words.

"The fourth pillar," Mu Tao continued, "is the Constant of Inevitability and Death. It is the force that governs the end of all things—the singularity of time and space where finality is absolute. It is this Pillar that births the Enoch, and through the Enoch, the universe is destroyed and reset. The ten epochs begin anew, and existence starts over once more."

A heavy silence filled the room. The weight of such cosmic cycles was overwhelming to their young minds.

Then, after a brief pause, one child hesitantly raised his hand. "O-oh!" he stammered. "A-and… what about the 'Goddess Mother of Depravity'? That name sounds scary."

Mu Tao nodded, unsurprised by the question. "Ah, she indeed is. The Goddess Mother of Depravity—the Mother of all Great Old Ones."

The name itself sent a chill through some of the children. The excitable boy's enthusiasm waned slightly.

"In other names, she is called Azathoth," Mu Tao continued. "She embodies certain Concepts—Femininity, Motherhood, Depravity, Pregnancy, and many others. Each Pillar of the universe embodies a fundamental concept of existence, and their titles reflect these truths."

One of the older children scrunched up his face. "That… sounds weird."

Another, younger one hesitated before asking, "Um… what are 'Concepts'?"

Mu Tao blinked. He studied the child for a moment, then asked, "Do you not know what a Concept is, child?"

The boy fidgeted, looking a little embarrassed. "Uhh… I don't think so."

Mu Tao sighed. "Well, you are only seven. How many of you do not know what a Concept is?"

Nine of the fifteen children raised their hands. Mu Tao chuckled lightly to himself. "At least six of you know," he murmured, before straightening up.

The Nature of Concepts

"Very well," he said, addressing the group. "A Concept is an abstract idea—a fundamental principle upon which all knowledge and understanding is built. It is a foundation upon which more concrete thoughts, beliefs, and principles are formed."

Some of the children seemed lost, so he simplified his explanation.

"In simpler terms, a Concept is an idea that defines something essential. Take, for example, the concept of heat. Heat itself is not something you can touch, yet you feel it. It exists as a force of nature, an essential part of reality. The same goes for concepts like darkness, hunger, or fear. You cannot hold them in your hands, yet they are undeniably real."

He gestured outward. "Concepts shape everything around us. They form the core of disciplines such as linguistics, psychology, and philosophy. Scholars study them to understand how thoughts and knowledge are structured, how language is formed, and how the mind perceives the world."

The excitable boy nodded enthusiastically. "Ohhh, so like… if I think about 'adventure' a lot, that's a concept?"

Mu Tao smiled. "Exactly. Adventure is a concept—one that inspires countless stories, dreams, and journeys. Concepts are what allow us to understand and define existence itself."

The children sat in silence, digesting his words. Even the youngest among them now seemed to grasp the weight of what he had explained.

As Mu Tao looked around the room, he felt a quiet satisfaction. These children, though young, had taken their first steps into the vast, intricate world of knowledge. And in time, some of them might even seek to understand the universe itself.

But for now, they were simply children—eager to learn, to question, to wonder.