Deep within the jagged peaks of the Neutral Lands, where the air grew so thin that even spiritual energy seemed to suffocate, the trio stumbled upon a hut made entirely of bleached, gargantuan bones. Sitting in front of it was an old man whose skin looked like cracked parchment, and whose eyes were two milky orbs that seemed to see everything and nothing at once.
"The seed has finally sprouted," the old man wheezed, not even turning his head. "And it brought a fallen lotus and a scorched phoenix with it."
Shara stepped forward, her hand instinctively on her sword. "Who are you to speak of Yun in such a way? And how do you know our origins?"
"I am Elder Haku," the man replied, pointing to the purple mark on Yun's neck. "And I know your origins because I was the one who gathered the last fragments of the Titan's bones before they turned to dust. I have waited four centuries for someone whose marrow could sing the song of the End."
Yun walked toward Haku. He felt no threat from the old man, only a profound sense of familiarity. "You spoke of a Forge in my vision. You said I am not here to cultivate."
"Cultivation is for those who want to climb the ladder of the Heavens," Haku said, standing up with a surprising fluidity. "But you, boy, are the one meant to kick the ladder down. You don't need more Qi. You need Will. The Vazio is not an absence of things; it is the absolute authority over what is allowed to exist."
Haku picked up a simple wooden stick. "Try to touch me. Don't use your bones, don't use your devouring light. Use your intent."
For the next week, the group stayed at the Silent End. While Shara and Meilin meditated under Haku's guidance to refine their own energies to be compatible with Yun's aura, Yun himself underwent a psychological torture. He had to learn to "erase" a candle flame without touching it, using only the thought that the flame never existed.
"If your mind wavers, the Vazio will eat you instead of the target," Haku warned.
By the seventh day, Yun stood before a massive boulder. He didn't move. He didn't pulse with light. He simply looked at the rock and decided it was a lie. With a soft whoosh, the boulder didn't break—it vanished, leaving no dust, no sound, and no trace in the timeline.
"The Will of the Void," Haku whispered, his milky eyes tearing up. "Now, go to Odis. There is a smith there who owes me a life. Tell him the Titan has sent his heir."