Kyrian remained motionless.
But his consciousness plunged inward.
And then, he saw.
He saw his eyes.
Not externally. But internally.
He saw the two cores. Shining like stars.
One in each eye. Powerful. Majestic. Ancient.
Then, he saw the paths. Countless paths.
The purple lightning, sparks dancing, ready to explode, a miniature storm held in check.
The orange flame, burning alive, pulsing with heat, a fire that never went out.
The snowflake, frozen, motionless, yet profound, an eternal winter.
The green sword, sharp, precise, and lethal, was a blade that cut through Qi itself.
The drop of blood, crystallized, pulsing with ancient energy, the essence of life.
The small black fragment, incomplete, yet present, a shadow that had not yet revealed itself.
All of them existed. All connected to his eyes. All waiting. Sleeping. Evolving.
Then, he saw something even more important.
The connections.
