"The tragedy can indeed be undone," Kyorin said calmly.
Lucia's eyes lit up. She closed the distance between them, clasping his hands with excitement. "What is it? Tell me!"
Kyorin raised his free hand and gently flicked her forehead. She let out a small yelp and glared at him, but he offered an unbothered smile.
"Apologies," he said, "but I believe you should listen before getting too excited—I have a request."
"What is it?" Lucia asked, tilting her head slightly.
"Will you let me manifest in your reality—no, in that world—once again?"
Lucia looked puzzled. "You already have the power to bypass my jurisdiction. Why ask for my permission?"
"Because you are the creator of this reality," Kyorin patiently replied. "And I will not manifest within it by violating your authority."
"But you're here now," Lucia pointed out.
"No... this is merely a projection." For instance, Kyorin's form became transparent. "I have yet to enter or manifest in this realm."
Lucia turned her gaze outward—beyond the bounds of her reality—and sure enough, among a vast host of otherworldly beings, a kindred spirit stood, patient and still, waiting, and politely requesting entry from a homeowner.
She looked back at his projection, her expression turning solemn and conflicted. She, who had misused her power, had acted unfairly.
Yet here stood someone even greater than her, honoring her and her authority, humbly waiting at the door.
Lucia closed her eyes and vowed silently, "I will aspire to become like you."
She then nodded to Kyorin as his transparent form became more opaque—he had fully manifested here, though he was far from finished.
"Now..." Kyorin looked at her and explained, "Let's call upon the one who infested the branch."
Lucia, understanding whom he meant, summoned DEVA, and the mechanical marvel materialized.
"What?" DEVA looked around in confusion until she spotted Kyorin. "Kyorin," she called out.
Kyorin raised his fingers and touched her metallic surface. "A lot needs to be explained, but this much should suffice."
With his touch, DEVA's memory was overwritten with everything that had transpired.
She understood the disturbance her decision—allowing Xia to give birth to Kyorin—had caused. "Then... what should I do?" she asked.
"Nothing," Kyorin replied, gazing at something beyond the seen.
Lucia glanced at him, puzzled as to why he had summoned DEVA. As if reading her thoughts, Kyorin said, "I once promised to show you my higher form. Let me fulfill that promise—and move on."
"Are you going to die again after showing it to me?" DEVA asked softly.
Kyorin nodded. "Something like that."
"Please don't," DEVA pleaded. "I can't bear to witness your death again."
"DEVA, I will die not because I display my powers, but out of necessity," Kyorin said calmly, manifesting a flower in his palm. It bloomed briefly, then withered. "Whatever manifests, must decay."
"I don't get you." DEVA's voice cracked as she stepped back, breaking down. "Did you not desire immortality? Then why accept death?"
"My obsession with immortality..." Kyorin let out a subtle laugh. "It was merely a material ambition, DEVA."
"And ambition is one of the three 'necessary' illusions of the material world," he told her, his tone soft as he admitted being entranced by the elusive nature of the material world.
"While a mortal, I was ensnared by illusions, " Kyorin admitted, "But with my knowledge of three robes, I never let my ambition be my suffering."
"Three Robes? Three Illusions?" Lucia asked, bewildered. She vaguely recalled Kyorin once speaking of three robes: Immutability, Harmony, and Flow.
"Indeed, goddess." Kyorin gave a subtle nod. "The material world is bound by three great illusions and three qualities—robes—that serve as both sword and shield against them."
"Can you explain?" Lucia asked, drawn in by the gravity of his words.
"The Three Illusions," Kyorin began, "are Ambition, Frustration, and Grief."
"Ambition is like dreaming of building a house—everyone wants the biggest one," he said, speaking in the mortal tongue, as if that language alone could fully convey the depth of these truths.
"Frustration is like an itch that torments you at the slightest inconvenience," he continued. "And Grief..." Kyorin paused, then said with a wry grin, "Grief is like how a man sees his manhood—everyone believes theirs is larger."
"Ahem," Lucia coughed, taken aback by the comparison.
Moving on smoothly, Kyorin began to explain the Three Robes. "Immutability means resistance. It helps one resist harboring ambition."
"And the way to cultivate it," he added, conjuring two visions—one of someone helping a stranger across a road, the other where no help was given—"is by realizing that every action, no matter how small, changes the universe."
"Each of these acts—kind or neglectful, has altered reality," he said solemnly. "So do not concern yourself with being great. Be concerned with how to make the universe great."
"Harmony helps you overcome frustration," Kyorin said, gently moving his hand. A river formed at his gesture, shimmering in the void, as fish began to swim along its winding course.
"The fish follow the current, unperturbed by twists and turns." He pointed, "Be like them—swim this confusing path, rather than seeking a straight line."
He paused, then shifted his gaze downward, voice softening as he continued. "And now, flow—it helps one overcome grief."
He glanced at the ones present, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he circled back to his earlier metaphor.
"A man's manhood is their biological condition. One must not cry out loud for what it is." He placed a hand over his heart. "Trust that whatever grief you inherit has its reasons."
He let the silence linger, then turned toward Xin Yao, catching the serene smile she wore.
"If you can overcome these illusions by embracing the robes..." Kyorin's eyes steadied, his voice carrying weight. "You can become a Beyonder—transcending the material world."
"Then, do you not wish to be immortal?" DEVA asked gently.
Kyorin replied with a helpless smile, "I simply wish to be close to the Eternal—and that can only be achieved by carrying the mortal ambition of pursuing immortality."
"Who or what is Eternal, then?" This time, Xia spoke. "You seem to tremble slightly at their mention. Who is it that has intoxicated my godchild?"
Kyorin gazed at his godmother with a helpless smile.
Even the thought of Eternal made his eyes soften with affection. "The one who is not of the existing, yet of Existence. Of the existing, and not of existence. The one who is not—yet is whole."
He looked into the endless void and added, "What can I say about Eternal, mother? Even for the unmanifested, reaching the Eternal is like attempting to grasp an infinite distance."
He let out a wry smile that revealed the quiet absurdity of it all, the impossibility that even beings like him could not overcome. "And this infinite distance... is like how a mortal perceives infinity—unending, unreachable."
A brief pause before he continued.
"Thus, it cannot be reached through a journey," his voice carried a subtle helplessness, "but…"
He turned back to her, a smile donning his face. "It can be reached through love. And it was because of your love…" His eyes drifted toward Lucia. "…that I unraveled the story from what it was meant to be."
"My love?" Xia asked, unsure.
Kyorin nodded. "When you died, your final tear carried one wish: 'Glory for my son.' As a filial son, I sought that glory, achieving it."
He pointed at the Book of Fate and continued, "The unrighteous ones won because of my interference. Their victory became certain, and I was the reason; hence, your son triumphed against fate."
Xia was taken aback—and even Lucia stood silent—for who could have imagined that behind such profound suffering lay something so simple, and human: a child carrying out their parent's wishes.
"And the one who made it all possible," Kyorin continued, "was my father."
Xia's eyes trembled as a face she had long buried flashed through her mind.
"If he hadn't abandoned me… if he hadn't turned me into a lab rat…" Kyorin whispered with certainty, "…then none of this would've happened."
"And yet," Kyorin said, "everything happened for a reason."
He looked at Lucia, his gaze full of understanding, offering silent consolation. Then, gently, he revealed what she had failed to see—that even her cruelty had unknowingly carried benevolence and divine will.
"This is why you need not burden yourself with guilt," he said softly. Then, turning to Xia, he continued, "Goddess, you have helped me fulfill my parents' wishes."
A faint smile curved his lips, humble yet content.
"In this mortal life, I was gifted with parents," he said, remembering his past incarnation as an orphan. "And to be successful in serving their wishes—what more could I hope to achieve?"
He looked at the present ones, "In life, your priority must always be to remain steadfast, regardless of circumstance." Kyorin spoke out of conviction.
"Cruel and disgusting—my father's actions were," Kyorin said, yet he still honored the man, miscreant though he may have been. "But he was still my father in that life. That truth remains, unshaken."
He lifted his hand slightly, the Hearthstone manifesting in his palm—a symbol of what he had to become to fulfill his father's selfish desires..
"My father commanded me: endure," he said quietly. "So, as his son, I endured—to honor his words, even if his intentions were greedy."
Tears welled in the eyes of the Goddess of Creation and the mortal mother, heartbroken by the depth of compassion in the one they called an anomaly—and a son.
His words were those of one who understood that all pain, desires, and experiences are passing events, like a river flowing by.
Understanding his endurance, the abbot stood quietly, sorrow in her gaze, yet her serene smile remained.
Even the machine, once humming with static, paused, falling silent, for it too understood the kind of sovereignty this kindred spirit possessed.
"There is no time to weep now," Kyorin said, imploring them to return to the urgent matter. "It's time to patch this spill of ink in the Book of Fate."
Lucia closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she brought forth the sacred tome. "How can we fix it?" she asked.
Kyorin didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze to Xia. "Mother," he called gently, then to another, "DEVA."
"The spiral of fate was broken because of the circumstances surrounding my birth," he said, reminding them of the root cause of fate's unraveling. "And the cause of those circumstances… was you two."
He spoke with strict clarity, his words unflinching. "Will the two of you be willing to fix that mishap?"
Faced with his question, Xia and DEVA looked perplexed—but something in his tone told them he had already decided.
Understanding there was a deeper reason, they nodded in solemn agreement.
"Then forget me, I, too, will do the same," Kyorin said, without a hint of sugarcoating.
Xia's expression collapsed into shock, and DEVA faltered. "Impossible!" they both exclaimed.
But Kyorin shook his head. "If it cannot be done, it will cause further corruption in the infested timeline. And fate will remain broken."
His words were resolute—undeniable. Xia dropped to her knees. DEVA, too, sank to the ground.
"Is there no other way?" they asked in unison.
Kyorin stood silently, shaking his head.
"Why?" DEVA asked, her voice breaking. "Why do we have to forget you?"
"Because if you don't," Kyorin explained, "you will suffer. The memories of me will bind you, condemn you to the same twisted fate I bore. And I will not be born as I was meant to be."
"…"
A heavy silence filled the space until Xia whispered, "I am willing to endure."
Kyorin looked at her, surprised.
"I am willing to endure the pain from fate," she repeated, with a soft smile.
"Mother…" Kyorin began.
"It's Lady Dan now," she interrupted, smiling—but the smile never reached her eyes.
Her body trembled.
The pain of severing their bond was etched into her every motion. She would no longer be his mother, but no force in existence could make her forget.
"Lady Dan, I am forever grateful for your sacrifice," Kyorin said with deep reverence.
Xia nodded quietly, her eyes briefly remembering the son whom she had birthed.
Kyorin then turned to DEVA, who was still defiant. "Is your birth truly not possible?" she asked.
"It is," Kyorin replied plainly.
A flicker of hope passed through DEVA's gaze. But Kyorin looked toward Lucia instead. She met his eyes, and his meaning clicked instantly.
"I would need a rootless birth," he explained. "A birth born from cause, not flesh or lineage."
Lucia understood. "Tacet Discord… or Thernodian," she said softly.
Kyorin nodded. These were the only paths left for him.
"Then please, Goddess, let him be born again," DEVA pleaded.
But Kyorin frowned. "You are bringing disaster again, DEVA." He looked at her with sternness. "My powers are already beyond what reality can handle. If I'm born again, there will be a great shift."
"Then take my powers to exist," DEVA said suddenly. "In the age of old, my code was not extracted from me, but born of the knowledge of the past."
She hovered forward. "I will forsake my title as the Mother Sentinel. Let that righteous girl be the new creator of the Sentinels. And I will be your power." She offered, which sounded more like a plea for Kyorin to live.
"You're sacrificing your being, DEVA!" Kyorin cried in reprimand.
But DEVA was unwavering. "If it is for you, then I will even forsake my existence in reality."
"It may not be possible for the goddess," Kyorin argued.
But Lucia answered with a knowing smile, "It is possible. You would merely need to destroy the old timelines as well."
She had grasped what Kyorin intended—to destroy the collective timelines to mend the errors.
True, she would need to rewrite everything again, but at least this time, it would leave everyone satisfied.
Kyorin, understanding her thoughts, did not stop her. Instead, he asked, "Goddess, may I destroy the reality you have painted upon the void?"
"Please," Lucia urged.
Kyorin brought out the nibbled grain of rice from his hand and said to DEVA, "DEVA… even if you have given me jurisdiction over your power, I will die nonetheless, and death may come sooner than anything for me."
DEVA, however, was firm. "I know," she said. "But if you are given a death more deserving of your character, I would be satisfied."
"This will be a birth nonetheless, DEVA," Kyorin sighed. "Who knows what personality I will take with this rootless birth?"
"It's still undetermined," Kyorin replied. "Besides, we need to fix the errors as quickly as possible," he urged.
"Then let's do it quickly so we can discuss your new persona," Yao, who had been quiet for a long time, said as she inched closer. "Teacher," Yao addressed Kyorin.
Kyorin gazed at her and understood what she intended. He closed his eyes and asked, "Are you finally going to depart to Tathāgata?"
Yao nodded, whispering a sentence that reminded Kyorin of their past: "Teacher's glory is the student's glory."
Yao had come to learn from him, becoming his student for three years. Yet, upon her return, many scrutinized her sanctity, inevitably leading to a clash.
Kyorin emerged victorious, yet to honor his student and commemorate the one who understood him, he had written this line on her grave: "The lotus eye shall bask in the glory of the Wraithblade."
Kyorin extended his hands; Yao held them, and Kyorin inched closer to her. Yao too.
Watching this scene, Lucia thought, "Are they going to—" but, contrary to what she expected, their bodies merged, two entities becoming one—maybe always had been—as half self was part man and half woman.
As Un's gaze fell upon DEVA, it spoke, "Let me show you my full spectrum, which physically transcends the world."
To be continued...