Awakening the Core
Anay's Inner Realm – Shrine Beyond Form
Anay lowered his hand, the radiant energy still pulsing in the air before him. The silence was deep, filled with a quiet certainty. He had named it—not by legacy or tradition, but from instinct. From soul.
Zettai Anant.
The Absolute Infinite.
The shrine's dim glow flickered once, and then receded into the background like a fading memory. Darkness settled in—but not an ominous darkness. It was the deep, endless calm of space. Like a breath waiting to be drawn.
Anay sat down slowly, crossing his legs before the floating essence of his spiritual weapon. His hands rested on his knees. His spine straightened. His gaze softened.
A deep inhale.
A long exhale.
The world stilled.
And then, in that stillness, he began to listen inward.
At first, there was nothing—only the hum of energy and the sound of breath. But as the seconds passed, a faint pulse stirred within his chest. It wasn't a heartbeat. It was older. Wiser. A vibration at the center of his soul.
He focused on it.
Thum…
Thum…
The pulse grew stronger. It reverberated through his arms, into his fingertips, and out across the space around him.
And then—without warning—a soft dark purple light began to bloom in the middle of his chest.
Like a tiny ember. A star being born.
Anay kept breathing, not questioning the glow. His mind stayed still—his emotions calm.
The ember shimmered.
Then flared.
A ring of energy expanded around him, and the world tilted.
His senses blurred—and then shifted.
He was no longer sitting before the shrine.
—
The void was enormous.
It stretched endlessly in all directions—a cosmic canvas without edges. There was no ground, no sky, no time. Just space—pure, vast, sacred.
Anay floated there, silent.
He looked around slowly.
And what he saw made his breath catch.
Within the darkness were galaxies. Spiraling arms of light and dust. Nebulas painted like divine strokes of color. Stars twinkling like thoughts too old to name. They weren't imagined. They were real.
Real—and inside him.
His spiritual core wasn't just a metaphor.
It was this.
A universe.
He placed a hand over his heart. The dark purple glow was still there, brighter now. Resonating with the cosmos around him. Like a signal… or a promise.
"This is my spirit?" he thought, amazed.
No answer came from outside. But something inside him whispered:
Yes. This is you.
The stars shimmered in response. A slow rhythm of light, like breathing. Like heartbeat.
And as Anay focused further, he felt the edges of his energy beginning to detach from his body.
He was not body. Not bone or muscle or skin.
He was awareness.
Breath.
Spirit.
And this universe was his reflection.
Suddenly, the stars began to shift. A gentle ripple passed through the void, like a tide returning home. The energy from distant galaxies curved inward—flowing through the dark, swirling with purpose, converging toward one point.
Toward him.
The pulse in his chest matched their rhythm.
He wasn't just inside this universe.
It was responding to him.
A radiant wave of cosmic energy approached like a slow-moving sea of light. Gentle, immense, divine. He didn't flinch.
He opened his arms.
And the wave of energy passed through him.
In that instant, everything changed.
—
He remembered… everything.
Not just memories—feelings. Echoes of his childhood. The pain of losing. The sting of not being seen. The silence of lonely nights in the temple. Master Kai's words, both harsh and kind. The warmth of his friends. The day he touched Tenrai no Yari—or what he thought was Tenrai no Yari.
He remembered standing in the rain once, fists clenched, too small to protect anyone.
He remembered laughing under a tree with Saki and Naman, pretending the world had no monsters.
And deeper still—he remembered dreams.
Visions he never told anyone about.
A world where he burned with light that no one else had.
Where he was feared… and yet still chose to save.
The wave didn't stop.
It carried him through time.
Flashes of what could have been, and what may still come.
He saw himself older. Calmer. Wearing white robes and a blade of starlight.
This version of him didn't fight to prove anything. He simply stood—and the world listened.
Anay reached out.
The two forms—present and future—touched.
And in that moment, they merged.
There was no divide between who he was and who he might be. No doubt. No fear.
Just… truth.
When the vision faded, the purple glow around him had intensified.
Now it pulsed in rhythm with the universe.
His aura had form—fluid, radiant, harmonized.
Zettai Anant's voice echoed again, no longer distant:
"Step one complete."
—
Anay opened his eyes within the void.
He wasn't floating now—he was standing.
On nothing, and yet… on everything.
He looked at his hands. Light danced across them.
And for the first time in his life—
He didn't feel small.
He didn't feel behind anyone.
He felt infinite.
He smiled , eyes soft, soul calm.
His whisper echoed in the stars:
"This… is me?"