Like a cracked TV screen pulsating with nostalgia, the doorway shimmered.
Karl Ω Yang was standing in his Cambridge dorm, holding a half-empty cup of instant coffee in one hand and the Absurdium Core in the other.
[CROSS-REALITY QUERY SYSTEM]
You have seen innumerable universes constructed on conflict and determination.
Are you interested in trying "Mercy" in one?
He grinned. "Why not? Fieldwork is necessary for all philosophers.
He hit the YES button.
Like light-soaked paper, reality slipped away.
The wind raged. Karl landed on a red plain under a golden lightning-split sky.
Floating cities glowed above, rings of stone encircling an overly near sun.
With their cries creating audible trails, warriors leaped between platforms, each encased in a flaming halo of Aether Ki.
[SCAN OF THE ENVIRONMENT]
Dimensional Name: Realm of Burning Sky
"Power equals conviction" is the energy law.
Tournament meritocracy is the social hierarchy.
Karl let out a whistle. "A world based solely on drive." Poetic and dangerous.
Nearby, a crater smoked. A young man of about twenty years old emerged from it, his fists flashing blue.
"Unknown! You dropped out of the sky. Declare your rank!
Karl brushed his coat. "Exploratory and Philosophical."
The young person blinked. "I've never heard of that tribe."
[ACTIVE MERCY FIELD]
Intent Scan => 60% confusion / 0% hostility.
Karl grinned. "All right. Let's be buddies first.
Empathy itself caused the air to shake and the youth's energies to uncontrollably wane.
They strolled in the direction of Solara Peak, the closest city. Market kiosks offered bottled lightning and treasures carved from dragon bones, while streets bobbed on slabs of basalt surrounded by force barriers. The Grand Clash of Creeds, the competition that decided which philosophy prevailed for ten years, was advertised on billboards.
Karl read out loud the sign. "Creed battle." Excellent.
[UPDATED CORE OBJECTIVE]
Take part in the Grand Clash.
Objective: Show that Mercy gives up power.
Holographic paper displays within an inn showed fighters arranged according to aura density. The top three were known as the Tri-Suns, and they were each defenders of a different doctrine: Order, Wrath, and Will.
Karl placed a tea order. In Ki, the waitress requested payment. Coins of compressed contradiction emerged as he released a single breath of paradox.
"Accepted," she said cheerfully, oblivious to the metaphysics.
He watched brawlers spar outside, walls trembling. Every blow screamed purpose; every purpose demanded victory. It was beautiful—and wrong.
She cheerfully answered, "Accepted," without understanding the metaphysics.
Outside, he saw brawlers spar, the walls quivering. Every strike shouted intent, and every intent called for triumph. It was incorrect, but it was lovely.
Good night. Two duelists slammed through containers and detonated in an alley behind the inn. One, shrouded in violet flames, readied a final blow. Half-conscious, the other mumbled for assistance.
Karl moved in between them.
"Outsider, don't meddle," the winner snarled. "Only the powerful can speak."
Karl's head cocked. "Then pay close attention."
He held up a hand. Just silence, no flash, no fire.
The violet flames folded into innocuous warmth as they collapsed inward. Unable to remember why he wished to kill, the assailant froze, his eyes wide.
[Activated in Passive Mode: Mercy Blade]
Introspection replaced hostility.
The audience let out a gasp. The defeated warrior collapsed to his knees, crying.
Karl smiled as he turned to face the injured one. He said, "The loudest silence is violence."
By daybreak, word had spread about a stranger who resolved fights without using force.
When the Tri-Suns arrived three days later, Solara Peak trembled. The horizon was tinted gold by their combined Ki.
TRI-SUN OF WRATH'S VOICE: "You discredit our doctrine, stranger. In battle, demonstrate your conviction!
Karl let out a sigh. "There are always tests."
He raised his gaze to the dazzling sky. The Core throbbed.
[ACCEPTANCE OF CHALLENGE]
Burning Sky Coliseum is the arena.
Access to the Planetary Law Kernel is the reward.
He gave a small smile. "We'll see if mercy can strike."
The crowd roared and the light flags unfurled as the Coliseum soared miles above the ground. The wind whipped Karl's coat as he stepped onto the stage. The Tri-Sun of Wrath, with eyes like twin volcanoes and muscles like molten rock, stood across from him.
"Name yourself!" yelled the warrior.
Then he said, "Karl é Yang." "PhD candidate, existence philosophy."
The stands echoed with laughter.
Karl's ring then began to glow. There was a soft hum in the air. The sun even hesitated.
[LIMIT 0.3% RELEASED FOR DAIMON MODE]
The mercy field is growing to the size of a planet.
The audience sensed it—the impossibility of forgiveness seeping through anger—and the laughing faded.
"Lesson one: mercy isn't weakness; it's pressure you can't resist," Karl muttered.
The match clock reached zero.