The "Qiming" Lost: Weaving a New Path Through the Void
The news of the "Qiming" losing contact hit the upper echelons of the "Meta" Realm like ice water poured into boiling oil. Their first outward exploration had ended in such a devastating blow—with the potential loss of Director Glarak and a team of elites—and the impact far exceeded all expectations.
Mo Shi immediately mobilized all forces of the Sky-Patrolling Pavilion, attempting to reposition the vessel through the faint residual signal of the Void Beacon. But the path, erased by the destructive beam, was like a broken spider's thread, impossible to trace in the vast emptiness. The final images transmitted by the detection runes—the hideous Aberration and the shattered path—cast a heavy shadow over all who knew of the situation.
Pessimism and guilt began to spread.
"I didn't think it through. I underestimated the dangers of the Void Sea..." Mo Shi's soul-fire dimmed during the emergency meeting.
"Maybe we should've stayed content with our own realm, instead of rushing into exploration..." a senior magic-wielding advisor muttered softly.
Just as the atmosphere grew stagnant, Lin Mo's figure appeared silently in the meeting room.
He paid no mind to his dejected subordinates, his gaze fixing directly on the star map at the center—still attempting to recalculate coordinates.
"The path is destroyed, coordinates are lost, and powerful enemies lurk nearby," he stated the current situation calmly, his voice showing no hint of turmoil. "So, do we just give up?"
All fell silent.
"Glarak and the others are still alive," Lin Mo tapped his finger on the erratic, nearly extinguished light spot on the star map. "The Void Beacon isn't broken; the connection isn't severed. It's just... the path that's gone."
He lifted his eyes and scanned the crowd: "If the path is broken, can't we just lay a new one?"
The demons froze.
Lay a new one? In absolute void, reposition a moving target with a faint signal? How was that possible?
Lin Mo didn't explain. He turned and stepped forward, instantly appearing at the edge of the "Meta" Realm—beyond the gray purification field, facing the endless darkness.
Slowly, he raised both hands.
In his left palm, a wisp of "Order" Thread—homologous to the "Meta" Realm—emerged, emitting a steady, soft gray glow, representing the "Meta" Realm's orderly coordinates.
In his right palm, his spiritual sense surged to an unprecedented intensity, diving backward along the unbroken, hidden link to the Chaos Origin! No longer cautious guidance, but a commanding "mobilization"—forcibly seizing the power of Chaos!
A turbulent, indescribably colored tide of Chaos was torn from the depths of the void, gathering and compressing in his right palm. This Chaos was no longer docile; it brimmed with violence and resistance, trying to retaliate against its captor.
Lin Mo's body trembled slightly, his ethereal form rippling under the impact of Chaos energy, but his eyes remained as calm as an abyss.
Using the "Order" Thread in his left hand as a guide, the Chaos energy in his right as ink, and his own spiritual sense as a brush, he began to... "paint" in the absolute void.
No—this was not painting.
This was weaving.
He defined rules with "Order," filled matter with Chaos, and infused his will into every step. A thin gray thread, glowing faintly, extended slowly from his fingertips—like a silkworm spinning silk—shooting unwaveringly into the depths of the void!
This thread was neither physical nor energy. It was an extension of "existence," a tentacle of rules!
It ignored the distance of the void, spreading and growing tenaciously toward the faint signal of the last known position of the Void Beacon—transcending the boundaries of conventional space.
Inside the "Meta" Realm, all high-ranking demons watched this scene in awe via the Magic Network. They beheld their Heavenly Dao—using himself as a fulcrum, Chaos as material—forcibly weaving a path through the void to their lost companions!
This was no longer just a display of power. It was mastery over the very origin of rules—a feat bordering on that of a Creator.
In the Void Sea, inside the drifting "Qiming," Glarak and his team faced a desperate situation. The shield energy was nearly depleted, the Aberration continued its attacks, and the hull was damaged in multiple places. Despair hung over every member.
At that moment, the Lich monitoring the Void Beacon suddenly looked up, his soul-fire blazing with disbelief: "The Beacon! It's responding! It's... it's becoming active! A powerful, homologous force is approaching! No—not approaching—it's... it's connecting! A thread is linking to us!"
Glarak lunged to the observation screen. There, the once-dim core of the Void Beacon reignited with a steady gray glow. A thin yet incredibly resilient gray thread—appearing from nowhere—connected to the Beacon, its other end stretching infinitely into the dark.
At the same time, the destructive beam that had been attacking them began to gather again.
But this time, before it could fire, a figure in a cyan robe stepped out of the gray thread—as if walking through it—and appeared silently between the "Qiming" and the Aberration.
It was Lin Mo.
He didn't even glance at the terrifying Aberration. He merely extended his right hand and gently clenched it toward the roaring destructive beam.
No sound, no explosion.
The destructive energy—capable of tearing apart a starship—hit an invisible wall a foot away from his palm. It froze instantly, collapsed, and finally dissipated into a wisp of smoke.
For the first time, a hint of "astonishment" appeared in the Aberration's single scarlet eye.
Lin Mo then turned slowly to face the twisted monster. His gaze was calm, yet carried the indifference of someone overlooking an ant.
He lifted his left hand; the wisp of "Order" Thread in his fingertip swayed slightly.
"Abomination of disorder, return to Chaos," he said.
His words became law.
The space around the Aberration twisted and compressed violently! It let out a silent wail as its massive body was forcibly crushed and disassembled by an irresistible force, reduced to its primal Chaos energy. Then, Lin Mo's left palm exerted a suction force—like a whale drawing water—swallowing the energy entirely.
In less than a breath.
The terrifying Aberration that had trapped the "Qiming" was gone.
Lin Mo brushed off his sleeves, as if dusting away a speck of dirt. He turned to the "Qiming": "The path is clear. Follow me back."
Inside the "Qiming," a deathly silence gave way to thunderous cheers of relief after surviving a catastrophe.
Glarak looked at the gray thread connecting to the "Meta" Realm, then at the calm figure in cyan robes ahead. An overwhelming sense of awe and fervor filled his heart.
The "Qiming" activated slowly, following the "path home" woven by their Heavenly Dao.
Lin Mo remained in place, his gaze sweeping over the colossal ancient wreckage, then toward the deeper reaches of the Void Sea.
Their first contact had come at a cost—but it also proved that the "Meta" Realm was capable of navigating this sea of darkness.
He lowered his left hand—the one that had just swallowed the Chaos energy.
Perhaps, to counter Chaos and those cold Observers, the best weapon was not pure Order.
But control.
His figure faded slowly, returning to the "Meta" Realm along the gray thread.
And the path he had woven by hand did not disappear after his departure. Like a glowing spider's thread, it was permanently etched into the void—becoming the first official path from the "Meta" Realm to the unknown.