Chapter Eleven: The Seed Test
The room was dark and cramped, but suddenly its walls dissolved, and Lian found himself standing in the middle of a strange arena. The ground beneath his feet wasn't dust, but a faint, starry glow, stretching endlessly. The sky was black, moonless and sunless, only a vast void punctuated by bright spots, like stars slowly bleeding light.
He felt a chill creep from his toes up to his chest, as if the whole place were rejecting his presence. Then he heard a voice... his own, only heavier, deeper, laden with a strange contempt:
"Finally... we meet."
Lian slowly raised his head and saw a copy of himself standing a few steps away. The same features, the same eyes, but different. Her hair was darker, and her eyes shone with a cracked silver thread, as if they held burning stars within them. The copy smiled coldly and said, "You are just a weak seed. As for me... I am what you should have been from the beginning."
Lian's heart trembled, but he clenched his hand tightly. "Who are you? Are you… an illusion?"
The clone laughed briefly, echoing a laugh he hadn't yet learned. "I am the real you. I am the part of you you try to hide behind your naive smiles. The power you fear… but deep down crave."
… … …
Before he could reply, the shadow—his other clone—rushed forward. The movement was so swift that the stars beneath his feet broke into sparks as he lunged. He extended his arm, and a silver thread shot out from his hand. But it wasn't straight, as Lian had done before… it was multi-branched, branching, as if dozens of star snakes had emerged at once.
"Impossible!" Lian thought, backing away in confusion. He raised his hand, trying to summon his silver thread, but it slowly emerged, weak, a single ray against the torrent of star snakes. The string collided with the other strings, and stellar sparks exploded in the air, a sharp sound as if the entire universe had been split.
The force of the impact ricocheted into Lian's chest, and he flung himself back with a groan.
But the other version didn't give him time to catch his breath. He leaped forward, his fist blazing with a dull light, and struck the ground. The explosion was like an earthquake, the stellar rift spreading beneath him, and the stars scattered on the ground shattered like brittle glass.
Lian fell to his knees, his chest rising and falling. "This… This isn't possible… He's much stronger than me."
He heard the voice mock him again: "Weak. Always weak. Everyone rejects you… The village fears you… Even your mother doesn't trust you anymore. You're a curse, and I'm the proof."
His hand trembled, but something inside him refused to give up. He remembered his mother's face, the children turning away from him, the stares of the elders… and he was angry. Anger like he'd never felt before.
He shouted, "Shut up!"
The silver thread exploded from his hand, but this time it wasn't a single thread. It erupted like a flash, branching into three short but powerful lines, intertwined as if woven from his own determination. They collided with the dark threads, and the space shook with a new explosion.
The dark version took half a step back, for the first time. She gave him a cold look, then smiled wickedly.
"Here you begin... but this is just the beginning. You don't understand, do you? The stronger you get... the closer you'll get to me. You'll never escape me."
He lunged again, his fists glowing, striking with his star threads like living swords.
Lian raised his three threads, trying to hold on. Each impact shattered the bones in his arms with the recoil, but with each blow he heard another inner voice... a small voice, but one different from the Shadow:
"You are not a curse. The path isn't open yet. Hold on."
That voice prompted him to clench his fist even more.
The three threads rose and ignited with a brighter light, and he struck them with a random but determined movement.
The three threads collided with the shadow's dark thread, and sparks exploded again. This time, space behind them split, and a star-like rift appeared, as if the sky itself had taken action.
The shadow retreated, its face for the first time losing its cold smile. It muttered, "This... wasn't supposed to happen..."
But before it could attack again, the entire place began to shake. The stars on the ground scattered, the black sky crackled, and a mysterious voice—not his own, not the shadow's—reverberated like thunder:
"The test... is over."
...
The shadow suddenly vanished, and everything faded away. Lian found himself back in his room, lying on the floor, sweating, his heart pounding wildly. But on his hand, three short silver lines, etched into his skin like a living tattoo, flickered faintly.
He sat up, panting, a small, weak but genuine smile spreading across his face.
"I may be weak now... but I'm not a curse."
In the darkness outside the window, at the edge of the forest, two eyes watched him silently before disappearing into the wind.