The skies above the Heaven Defying Academy thundered without warning.
Lightning crackled in deep purple arcs, forming celestial runes that danced across the clouds. The storm did not spread to the surrounding forest or sky—it remained above the academy alone, as if locked in a bubble of wrath and divinity.
Ashwin stumbled outside, shielding his eyes as a blinding beam of light shot down from the sky, striking the academy's central courtyard. A massive circular sigil appeared on the ground where the bolt landed, etched with runes none in this world could comprehend.
From the corner of the building, the white-robed old man—still claiming to be just a gardener—emerged with his sleeves flapping in the storm's wind.
"It begins already?" he muttered, voice calm but serious.
Ashwin rushed to him. "Elder! What is this?"
The old man didn't answer right away. His gaze was on the sky, where an eye—yes, an eye of the heavens—opened within the storm. It wasn't physical, yet its presence was overwhelming. A single blink from that eye sent ripples of pressure across the ground.
Ashwin fell to his knees.
"I—I can't breathe!" he gasped.
The old man casually waved his hand, forming a golden dome around the boy. Instantly, the pressure lifted from Ashwin's body.
"That eye," the old man said, "belongs to the will of this world."
"The will… of the world?" Ashwin whispered.
"Yes. Each world has a guardian—a spiritual consciousness that maintains balance. Normally, it slumbers. But the moment the academy appeared, it awakened. And now, it sends a trial—an attempt to destroy this place before it can grow."
Ashwin's eyes widened. "But why?! This academy hasn't harmed anyone!"
The old man smiled grimly. "To defy the heavens is to invite suppression. We do not follow the path the heavens laid. We carve our own. That alone is enough to earn their wrath."
He walked toward the center of the courtyard.
As if reacting to him, the eye focused, and another bolt of lightning formed. But before it could strike, a gentle, mocking voice echoed through the air.
"Still such a temperamental child, aren't you, little world?"
The clouds froze. The thunder paused.
From beneath the ancient tree in the academy's corner, the sleeping young man—the one who'd first spoken to Ashwin—sat up and stretched lazily.
He yawned.
Then smiled.
Then looked straight at the heavenly eye.
"Long time no see," he said with a wink. "Still trying to fry ants with heavenly lightning?"
The eye blinked rapidly—almost… in fear?
The clouds scattered instantly.
The lightning vanished.
The runes dissolved into golden mist, and silence returned to the academy.
Ashwin gawked. "Who is he…?"
The old man smirked. "That, Ashwin, is our Headmaster. The one who founded this academy."
"The Headmaster… stopped a heavenly trial… with just a sentence."
The old man turned toward him and nodded.
"Because he is above the heavens. The one the world remembers—and fears."
"Then… is he the Dao Ancestor?"
"Yes."
Ashwin stared at the young man, who now casually lay back down on the bench and resumed his nap.
"He's the strongest being in all existence," the old man whispered. "And yet, here he is, pretending to sleep under a tree, waiting for students to come."
Ashwin couldn't speak.
But one thing was now certain—this academy was not ordinary.
And his fate was no longer his own.