Adrian materialized on the fifth level, but this time, there was no safe zone.
He floated in what could only be described as nothingness.
Not the familiar void of space, where stars burned distant and essence currents twisted through darkness. This was something else entirely.
Even the void didn't feel like it was void. Adrian could not sense it properly.
It was the absence of everything, the kind of emptiness that made the mind tremble.
Not even the faint hum of spatial essence that existed in the deepest corners of the galaxy.
What is this place?
Then, a voice rippled across the nothing.
"Candidate Adrian." The Guardian Spirit's voice spoke.
"You have passed the trials of endurance, combat, and comprehension."
Adrian remained still, listening.
"You evolved beyond definition. You understand the essences and control them."
"But tell me… if all essence and the concepts they form from, ceased to exist, what would remain?"
Adrian froze.
His instinct was to answer immediately. But as his thoughts churned, they tangled, knotting into confusion.
What would remain?
He frowned, thinking. Concept means everything; if all of it vanished… what was left?
He thought of fire, how it was the first light of civilization, how it gave warmth, cooked food, and kept the darkness at bay. Humanity's oldest companion.
He thought of life, fragile, precious, yet relentless in survival.
He thought of gravity, the silent law that bound worlds together, that pulled stars into being and held galaxies in their dance.
In a way, everything worked in harmony…
The concepts didn't exist in isolation. They intertwined, balanced.
But if they all vanished…
His mind stalled.
The Guardian's voice echoed again, interrupting his thoughts. "Harmony?"
Adrian's eyes widened slightly.
"I could predict what you are thinking now... That all things work in balance, but what I asked you is what would happen if every concept we know ceased to exist?"
Adrian could not imagine it…
His comprehension, his mastery, his entire foundation rested on understanding concepts. On perceiving their truths and wielding them. But if they simply… weren't?
If even these fundamental truths ceased to exist…
What would be left? Empty space? No! Space was a concept, too. Darkness? No, shadow was the memory of light's passing.
Nothing?
But even nothing was something. An absence. A concept in itself.
The Guardian spoke again, softer now, almost curious. "Tell me, Adrian… have you ever questioned why a concept exists?"
"You comprehend them. You wield their truths. But have you ever wondered, why must fire burn? Why must cold preserve? Why must gravity pull? Why must light be allowed to shine?"
For a moment, Adrian's entire consciousness wavered.
Why… does anything exist?
It was a question that didn't belong to logic. It was a question that gnawed at the foundation of meaning itself.
The fire that once guided humanity, why did it exist? Not how it burned, but why it was allowed to be in the first place. The space that carried stars, why was it permitted to stretch across the void? Even the Source, the origin of everything, the blank canvas beneath all things—
Why was it?
He didn't know.
And the not-knowing felt infinite.
A faint pulse shivered from deep within his being, his Source Seed.
For the first time, Adrian didn't simply feel the Source's energy. He questioned it.
And the act of questioning it made the Seed tremble, resonating like it was answering him with silence.
A vast wave of realization washed through him.
He felt… small.
Not in weakness, but in perspective.
The very idea of "existence" itself, he had always accepted it as truth. A given. The foundation upon which everything else was built. Now he doubted it.
And that doubt… felt like the beginning of something terrifyingly new.
The emptiness around him seemed to pulse in response, as if acknowledging his shift in understanding.
The Guardian Spirit's tone softened, almost approving.
"Do you see it now?"
"Cultivation is not the pursuit of strength, or even survival. It is the pursuit of truth."
"A true cultivator questions everything. Even the truths that birthed them."
"True evolution begins when you doubt existence itself."
Adrian floated still, his mind spinning.
The concepts he'd mastered were no longer absolutes. They were constructs. Truths, yes, but truths that existed because… something allowed them to.
But what?
"You have stepped into that cycle of doubt," the voice continued,
"Doubt the foundations. Doubt the fire that burns, the light that shines, the life that grows."
Then came the mechanical whisper,
› Seed Protocol… awakened.
› Purpose achieved. Candidate qualifies.
"Few ever reach this point," the Guardian said, "You have not merely understood the concepts… you have doubted them."
"Keep that doubt. It is the key to what lies beyond Stellar."
In a flash of light, the void collapsed.
Adrian was hurled through layers of space, the emptiness shattered, replaced by the familiar weight of essence, the distant hum of spatial currents, the cold presence of the Edge.
And suddenly—
He was back outside the structure.
The colossal structure loomed before him once more, patterns glowing faintly with symbols from the language of mana.
For a moment, he just floated there, suspended in the vast quiet of the Edge.
His thoughts were a storm.
He had expected the fifth trial would be something different, like the other ones… but instead, it had asked him to doubt existence itself.
And the Guardian Spirit said it was the key to what lies beyond Stellar.
But how?
He didn't know now.
His hand tingled.
Adrian frowned, lifting his palm. A red rectangular object rested there, no larger than his thumb. It looked like a token, yet the material was something he could not recognize.
"What is this?" he murmured.
The token glimmered once, a pulse of deep crimson light rippling across its surface. Then it fell still, inert as stone.
Adrian turned it over, examining the edges. No inscriptions and no patterns. Just that strange, unidentifiable material and the faint warmth it radiated against his skin.
Before he could probe further, a voice shattered his focus.
"Adrian!"
He turned.
The Celestials approached through the void, their expressions bright with relief and something close to disbelief. Max was already laughing, his broad grin.
"Two days. Two! You cleared all five levels in two days!"
Selric laughed, "I'm not sure whether to be proud or scared."
Ilyas smirked. "Both. Definitely both."
Gary reached Adrian first, "We're free now. Let's head back home."
Their laughter was light, unburdened. After thousands of years trapped in the structure, after endless battles and isolation, they were finally going back.
Adrian looked at them, still holding the red token. His thoughts churned with the Guardian's question, with the weight of doubt that had settled into him.
He didn't know why existence was allowed to be.
But looking at them, at their joy, their relief, their presence, he realized something else.
Maybe why didn't matter.
What mattered was that they were here. Alive and real. Standing beside him in the void, ready to return to the world they'd fought to protect.
"Let's go," he said softly, slipping the token into his robes. "Many are waiting to see you all."
The Celestials smiled, and together, they rose into the void.
They didn't have ships, but Adrian knew the path. His space domain unfurled, bending the void around them, compressing distances that would take fleets weeks to traverse.
The Edge's chaotic currents parted before him, essence fragments drifting harmlessly aside as he guided the group through the hollow expanse.
Orin glanced at the alien structure shrinking behind them. "I still can't believe we're leaving."
"Believe it," Max said, stretching his arms wide. "I'm going to sleep for a month. On a real bed. With real food."
"You're going to eat for a month," Elliot corrected.
"That too."
...
Inside the structure, deep within its core, the Guardian Spirit hovered.
Its golden form pulsed softly, observing the retreating figures through layers of space.
"One more seed," it murmured, almost to itself.
"Another who will one day look beyond the essence."