The morning sun filtered through the narrow streets of Shanghai, painting the pavements in long streaks of gold. Vendors set up their stalls, steam rising from bowls of noodles and dumplings. The city moved with its usual rhythm—fast, loud, and oblivious to the unseen currents flowing beneath reality.
Lyo Kao Ken walked among them, his tall, lean figure easily blending with the crowd. Long purple hair brushed his shoulders as he adjusted the strap of his satchel. To anyone else, he appeared simply as another young man navigating the morning bustle. To those attuned even slightly to reality's deeper layers, he radiated a quiet, untouchable authority—a presence that bent probabilities without intention.
A street performer juggled fire torches nearby. Normally, the crowd would react with awe or fear, but subtle things shifted around Lyo. A small child reached out too far, tipping on the pavement. Yet, without a thought or gesture from him, the child's fall corrected itself: the multiverse realigned, probabilities adjusting in perfect harmony. Lyo observed, calm as ever, the faintest smile brushing his lips.
He paused beneath a wisteria tree in a quiet courtyard. The blossoms, pale purple against the morning sun, seemed to shimmer slightly, caught in a current of possibility. And then he felt it—a whisper of awareness threading through his consciousness.
"You notice faster than usual," the voice said, distant yet intimate.
Lyo's blue eyes narrowed, though no emotion crossed his composed face. He did not need to speak. The presence belonged to Jeong Althea Xiao, a being whose awareness of possibility extended far beyond what even Lyo's supreme perception could fully grasp. She did not manifest physically yet, only brushing at the edges of his reality, testing him subtly.
He felt the flow of probability around him bend, shifting in response to her distant, teasing influence. The city seemed to move with purpose he had not instilled, street vendors adjusting their steps, birds fluttering at just the right moment, even the sunlight angling perfectly across the rooftops.
"Always subtle," he thought, letting a quiet laugh brush through his mind. "Even when you appear, you do not truly enter."
"I like observing," came her playful response, threading into his awareness like wind through leaves. "But soon… you will notice fully."
Lyo did not react outwardly. His life in China had taught him patience. He had learned to hide his essence while moving through ordinary life, and he had perfected the art of blending in. Yet, even as he walked through familiar streets, he knew that the multiverse, the unseen strands of reality, were awakening to him. Disturbances in distant places tugged gently at his consciousness, anomalies seeking alignment, all corrected by his passive amplification.
A sudden, faint vibration ran through the alleyways—a minor rift, almost imperceptible, like the tremor of a spider's web brushed by a shadow. Lyo tilted his head, observing it without concern. The presence of the anomaly only heightened his latent danger automatically. It escalated itself in response to him, faltering and collapsing under its own amplified potential. Without a word or action, the threat dissipated.
He continued walking, his long hair swaying with his measured steps. Even the ordinary pavement beneath his feet seemed to hum in subtle resonance with him, adjusting itself to his presence. Nothing could touch him; nothing within normal or even extraordinary frameworks could truly oppose him.
A flock of pigeons scattered in a burst of wings, startled by a distant honk. Yet one bird hesitated, hovering midair as if caught in an invisible current. Lyo's gaze passed over it, a soft exhale escaping him. Subtly, impossibly, the bird corrected its flight path, landing safely atop a nearby railing. The simplest interactions, unnoticed by anyone, revealed the nature of his existence: he was not just untouchable; he was a principle around which reality bent.
In the quiet courtyard, the wind shifted again, and the faintest shimmer of light appeared—a hint of Althea, her presence brushing against his consciousness like the echo of a dream. Lyo recognized the pattern immediately: she was testing him, not challenging, not threatening, merely observing how he interacted with the unfolding threads of probability.
He stopped beneath the wisteria, letting the petals fall around him. "Your influence is subtle, yet noticeable," he thought, a calm amusement in his mind. "I suppose this is the beginning of guidance."
"Guidance, yes. Observation, always," came her reply. "You move in ways the world does not expect. It is… pleasing to watch."
Lyo tilted his head, letting the morning sun warm his shoulders. He had always known the world would notice him eventually. His nature, his reincarnation as Tao Kim Kyi, guaranteed that reality itself would awaken to his existence. And now, with Althea subtly threading herself through the unseen layers of probability, the awakening accelerated.
A minor disturbance rippled in the distance—another faint anomaly, almost comical in its futility, as if the universe were sending a messenger. Passive amplification surged, and the disturbance escalated only to collapse immediately, leaving the world unaware of the close brush with impossible danger. Lyo merely adjusted his satchel, continuing onward, calm and indifferent.
Shanghai continued its ordinary rhythm, unknowing, untouched. Yet beneath its streets, in the weave of reality, threads moved, currents flowed, and forces shifted in anticipation. Lyo Kao Ken, walking as a simple human, was awakening.
And somewhere beyond perception, Jeong Althea Xiao watched, her infinite awareness brushing lightly against him. The city, the multiverse, and the unseen dimensions around them all bent subtly, aligning to the presence of the hidden existence.
This was only the beginning.
Lyo Kao Ken's awareness of Althea, the subtle escalation of multiversal threads, and the passive amplification of his latent power marked the first real convergence of destiny. The ordinary streets of China, mundane and chaotic, were becoming the silent stage for a force beyond all comprehension.
He walked on, unseen but fully known, ordinary yet conceptually supreme.
The glimpse beyond had arrived.