Fractured Echoes
Two days had passed since the first lesson.
In the prison, time wasn't measured in hours.It was measured in pain.
For some, in beatings.For others, in broken bones.For Mo Han, in sounds.
He heard patterns in the whispers, in the clang of iron, in the muffled sobs behind stone walls.The prison was a symphony.
And now…the melody was off.
There's a dissonant tone.Something... corrupted.
Mo Han followed the sound like a tracker pursuing prey.Each step led him deeper—toward the eastern wing.A region abandoned since the winter riots.No one went there.Except the desperate.Or the fanatics.
The floor was uneven.The walls were scratched with ancient inscriptions, carved by fingernails or metal.Names. Dates. Curses.And among them… new symbols.
Runes.
His runes.
But distorted.
Mo Han stopped in front of a half-open door, from which seeped the stench of fresh blood and oxidized iron.He heard a whisper.A muffled moan.And then… a phrase.
— "Pain is a choice.And I choose for you."
It was Kien's voice.The third disciple.
Mo Han pushed the door open.
Inside, the darkness was thick as oil.
The only light came from a makeshift lantern, hanging on a rusted hook.Beneath it, a naked man trembled—bound.His body was covered in precise cuts.Not wounds of rage.They were methodical.
Kien stood beside him.Covered in blood up to his elbows.Smiling.
— "He didn't understand pain, Void.I helped him."
Mo Han entered without a word.His eyes locked on the victim.The man was breathing.Faintly.But alive.
This... isn't pain as code.This is torture.A parallel system born without permission.
Kien turned, excited as a child showing off a new toy.
— "I used your runes.I applied the three-layer pattern.He broke at the second.But now... he sees! Look in his eyes! He understands!"
Mo Han stepped closer to the bound man.Kneeled.Looked.Closely.
The man hadn't understood anything.
He had broken.
Completely.
— "What you did… isn't teaching," Mo Han said, emotionless.
Kien stepped forward, confused.
— "But I followed the lessons!Stimulus. Interpretation. Choice.He couldn't choose, so I chose for him!"
Mo Han stood—slowly.
— "The third layer…cannot be imposed."
— "But you said—"
— "It doesn't matter what I said!"
The explosion came without warning.
Mo Han struck.Fast.Precise.
A single palm strike—under the chin.
Kien slammed into the wall and collapsed, coughing blood.
— "You heard me.But you didn't understand me," Mo Han said, cold.— "You created a cult in my name.And worse...You turned pain into dogma."
Kien tried to rise.But there was something in Mo Han's eyes.Something that froze him in place.
— "The Path of the Void… isn't about control.It's about perception.You're not a disciple.You're a mistake."
Mo Han turned to the bound man.Touched one of the cuts.He recognized the pattern.
It was one of the mental runes he had designed.But adapted to the physical body.A circuit of pain.
And it made him shudder.
Logic can be replicated.Distorted.Turned into a weapon.
At last, he turned back to Kien.
— "From this moment on…you don't follow me anymore."
Kien choked, eyes wide.
— "But... you taught me!I'm your creation!"
Mo Han nodded, grim.
— "Exactly.Which is why…I must correct my mistake."
—
Later, back in the gallery of five, Mo Han gathered the remaining disciples.
Kien was not among them.
— "Today, we learned the most important lesson.Logic can guide.But it can also kill.It's not enough to understand patterns.We must understand limits."
The elder lowered his head.
— "What do we do about… the deviations?"
Mo Han hesitated.
Then spoke:
— "We create a new rune.One that works only inside.Not on the body.Not on stone.Only in the mind."
He closed his eyes.Wrote it mentally.
Runam — Internal Ethics Line.
— "Its function is simple:To remind us that every pain we applymust first pass through our own judgment.If it hurts us more than the other...we were right.If it hurts us less...we were wrong."
Silence.
The disciples understood.
They didn't worship.They didn't fear.
They reflected.
And that was exactly what Mo Han wanted.