He had no idea how much time he had spent on the journey. Here, there was no way to measure distance—not by the number of steps taken, not by the feeling of exhaustion, and not by the passage of time.
This world seemed frozen, dead, but it still held a sense of lingering anticipation, like a pause between moments that never ended.
The landscape suddenly changed. The sandy plain became denser and took on a harsh, dark hue.
In the midst of this emptiness, traces of the past began to emerge—the remnants of walls. They were not destroyed by the force of time or tragedy.
It seemed that they had been dismantled purposefully, layer by layer, with intent and attention to detail.
Now, all that remained were the empty shadows of the architecture, the charred outlines of buildings burned into the ground.
Ikai froze. His attention was drawn to a figure standing alone among the ruins.
The old man, bent with the weight of years, sat motionless on a smooth stone, as if in anticipation.
His worn-out cassock was faded and colorless, and his skin was a shade of gray and yellow, withered to the point of resembling a mummy.
His eyes were closed, his eyelids tightly shut, like a piece of flesh sewn together.
And yet, he was breathing.
Ikai didn't rush to approach. He stood still, as if petrified, lost in his own thoughts. There was a faint warmth in his chest, as if a star within him was lost in his own emotions.
It was a strange feeling. Neither anxiety nor curiosity plagued him. Just... silence that wrapped around him like a gentle silk.
He took a step forward. Then another. With each step, his heart pounded louder, as if encouraging him.
It was only when the distance between him and the old man was closed that the old man slowly raised his hand. The gesture was full of significance.
The old man's hand trembled as if it could not bear the weight of the moment. Slowly he extended the stone that lay in his palm.
This stone was not just a stone. It was round, smooth, and the light played on its surface. But more importantly, it pulsed. Not with light, but with the feeling of a memory. It was a feeling that didn't belong to Ikai yet, but it was already present in his mind.
Ikai accepted the stone.
As soon as his fingers touched the surface, the world around him suddenly shifted. At that moment, reality changed, and Ikai felt himself being pulled into something entirely different.
***
He found himself in a body that did not belong to him. He was younger than he had ever been, but it did not bring him joy. His eyes were open, but they were unable to see. Everything around him became blurred, devoid of clear outlines.
The old man's voice echoed in his head, like a distant memory:
"You ask why the star chooses. I asked the same. The answer is: it doesn't choose. It returns. It… repeats. We are not the bearers. We are the attempts."
These words resonated within him like an echo in an empty space.
"Look what I have seen"
The desert. A vast expanse where sand and sun create an atmosphere of majestic solitude. There is more to this seemingly lifeless place.
Thousands of figures are carriers, each representing a unique essence. These creatures are like sparks burning in an endless ocean of sand.
Their hearts are filled with fire, symbolizing hope, the desire for life, and the pursuit of something greater.
Every movement of these creatures is a ritual. They walk in circles, repeating their actions over and over again, like performers of an ancient dance.
Each one who falls is consumed by a burst of light. At that moment, another person takes his place, ready to continue this endless cycle.
This process is not just a substitution, but symbolizes the cyclical nature of life and death, the eternity of existence even in the harshest conditions.
In the center of this spectacle is a massive stone table. Its surface is covered with mysterious symbols, and the stars reflecting the light create a sense of connection with the cosmos.
Limbs – ten. But there are empty spaces among them, and ten more stars that arouse curiosity and questions. These gaps are sealed, and above them is an inscription:
"The Constellation of the Closed Gods.This phrase is intriguing and makes us wonder about the secrets hidden in these unreachable spaces.
The vision ended abruptly, leaving Ikai disoriented and shaken. He stood there, trembling all over, as if he had just emerged from a storm. The stone in his hand was not just warm; it pulsed with a faint, almost living warmth, as if it held its own secrets.
His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of the room, and he looked at the old man.
The elder sat perfectly still, his posture unyielding, his expression inscrutable.
And yet there was something unsettling about his stillness – a tension that seemed to come from within.
Only the slightest movement betrayed his composure: the corner of his mouth twitched slightly before returning to its place.
It was a flash of emotion, almost imperceptible, but it sent a chill down Kai's spine.
"Did you... see that too?"
Ikai whispered under his breath. The words hung in the air, burdened with unspoken questions and the weight of what they had just experienced.
The old man was silent, his eyes closed as if in deep thought.
But on his chest, beneath the tattered fabric of his clothes, there was a dark mark – the word "Zero" burned into his skin, its edges jagged.
The sight of this mark caused a wave of unease in Ikai, leaving him with more questions than answers. What did it mean? And why was it there?
"A bearer who refused to go. Extinguished before the start. Or... survived by hiding within the void."
Ikai hid the stone.
He didn't know why. He just felt that it was a memory that shouldn't be shared with the world.
And when he left, the old man was still sitting.
But behind him, in the sand, a trail began. Just appeared. Leading forward.
Ikai carefully followed the trail that seemed to have never belonged to him. Every step felt familiar, as if someone else had taken it before, or after, or in his place. But he wasn't moving forward.
His path was inward, towards the heart of something greater, towards the very question that the world stubbornly refused to answer.
Suddenly, a vast stone hall appeared before him, marked by the traces of fire.
The silence, oppressive and deep, filled the entire space. It was empty, except for a single wall in the farthest corner, which was massive, like a heavy slab, a tombstone, or a mirror.
A star map.
Not just an image.
It was an entire structure.
-The Star Carrier Map-
The lines indicated directions.
The dots had names.
And the names were alive – etched in stone, like scars burned into the memory of the world itself.
He approached as if in a dream.
And he read.
[0] — Zero
Refusal - The Stone did not accept - The Heart was empty.
[1] — First
Blinded - Burned in the glow.
[2] — Second
Absorbed - Displaced.
[3] — Third
Repeat…
And…
[Ikai Liu]
The words were engraved on the surface with precision, their edges sharp and smooth, as if they had been carved by a skilled and thoughtful hand.
They were written in a language he didn't understand, but the meaning resonated deep within him – not through his eyes, but through something primal, something that seemed to pulse within his bones. It was a sign that defied comprehension, its symbols more felt than seen, more known than understood.
But there, amidst the ancient inscriptions, was something else – a name. It was crossed out, not cut out or erased, but marked with a single, sharp line, straight as a knife blade.
The action seemed almost violent, an expression of denial, but at the same time it carried a sense of uncertainty, as if the hand holding the hot tool had hesitated for a moment before completing the strike.
And then, right below the crossed-out name, it appeared again. Ikai Liu. The repetition was deliberate, almost defiant, as if someone had changed their mind, decided to correct what had been crossed out, to restore what had been taken away.
But this action was less like restoration than it was like something else – a rewriting, a reshaping of fate itself.
It seemed as if the title had been torn out of one narrative and inserted into another, its meaning changing with each repetition, with each flicker of the burning torch.
The air around the signs hummed with an uneasy energy, as if the very act of writing and rewriting had disturbed something ancient and relentless. Ikai felt it in his bones – the weight of unseen eyes, the whispers of voices that were not quite voices.
This name was no longer just a label; it was a key, a door, a boundary that was crossed and repeated again, leaving a trail of questions and unease in its wake.
Who wrote this? Who crossed it out? And why was it written again? He felt that the answers lay somewhere beyond comprehension, in a place where names held power and fate was something that could be rewritten if one dared.
"Is this me? Already crossed out here? So Ikai Liu already existed. So he was a stranger. And now... is this a second chance? Or just a cruel joke?"
He slowly raised his gaze to the top of the map, his eyes scanning the lines and symbols until they settled on an unusual detail.
There, far from the main structure, was an arc, like a broken fragment of an ancient artifact.
It was the second half of the circle, closed and mysterious. Unlike the rest of the map, there were no names or symbols here, only twenty empty stars that shimmered with a cold light on the parchment.
They seemed to beckon and invite, promising to reveal a secret. And beneath them, written in a delicate yet firm handwriting, was the phrase:
"The Constellation of the Closed Gods."
The words evoked a sense of something forbidden, hidden from the public eye, as if they were talking about forces best left unmolested.
He clenched his fist:
"You give this body life, then you take it away. And then you put it back in the same body, but with a different person. But why? I didn't ask for it. I don't want anything but peace. Peace… which they didn't give me."
Ikai Liu turned around, and at that moment, there was only silence in his chest. It was a silence so deep that it seemed to consume everything around him.
The star inside him didn't pulsate or emit its usual warmth and light. She just watched, studying him as if he were a riddle she couldn't solve.
He did not understand what this star was. Was it a gift that would enrich his life? Or was it a disease that would slowly but surely destroy him from within? His mind was filled with questions that had no answers.
This star could be both a blessing and a curse. Perhaps it was a mysterious legacy that had come before him, left as a sign of the past.
His thoughts wandered as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He reflected on how stars had always been symbols of hope and dreams, but in his case, this star seemed to bring nothing but anxiety.
Every second, he felt its presence like a dark shadow that refused to leave him alone.
He wondered if he would ever be able to understand its true nature.
As he left the place, the sand beneath the map shifted. This small, golden material, which symbolizes endless possibilities and paths, has changed its position.
One of the lines that led to the star reappeared, as if the map itself was reacting to his presence.
This was not just a physical phenomenon; it was like a magical transformation, where his step rewrote the map, changing its structure and meaning.
"It wasn't you who wrote me in. It was me who wrote you in"…