Hours after the "successful" group had been led away to their new lives, a guard finally returned for the Unfavored.
He didn't speak. He simply gestured for them to follow.
The two hundred children, a silent, shuffling herd of rejects, were led not back to their rooms, but to a different part of the pocket realm.
They arrived at a vast, desolate plateau under a sky of perpetual twilight. Before them stood rows upon rows of identical, cube-shaped structures made of smooth, seamless black stone. There were no windows, only a single, perfectly flush door on each one.
It didn't look like a residence; it looked like a graveyard for giants, or a storage facility for forgotten things.
Each child was given a jade token that glowed with a number and led to a corresponding structure. After the last child had found their assigned block, the guard addressed them, his voice echoing in the unnerving silence.
"This will be your home for the next ten years."
The words landed like a physical blow. A collective gasp rippled through the children. A decade. He spoke of it as if it were a weekend.
The carefully constructed composure on their faces began to crumble, replaced by stark, naked despair.
A cruel smile touched the guard's lips, satisfied with their reaction.
"You will receive basic guidance for the first year, courtesy of his Eminence, Heiyun Jue. Your needs will be provided for. After that year, you will be on your own. You will have nine more years to prove your worth."
He let the threat hang in the air.
"Right now, you are no different from the mundane. You saw a vision, but you have no direction. You must discover that direction yourselves."
A small boy with a tear-streaked, babyish face stepped forward, his small body trembling.
"Sir," he stammered, "can I ask a question?"
"Go ahead," the guard said, his voice flat.
"My sister... she was among those that went earlier. Will I get to see her? When can I see her?"
The guard looked at the trembling boy, his expression somewhere between boredom and mild amusement.
"What's your name, boy?"
"N-Noah," the boy said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Noah Wen."
The guard let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Noah, think of it this way: she is in a much better place. She is valuable. You have not yet proven your worth. She receives direct guidance and better treatment."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that all of them could hear.
"If you want to see her again, prove you are worthy by the end of the ten-year mark", those who have shown sufficient progress may be granted certain privileges. Until then- he saw tear spilled down Noah's cheeks. He shrugged.
He straightened up and addressed the whole group again.
"Settle into your new homes. Your first lecture begins tomorrow."
And with that, he vanished, the space where he stood shimmering for a moment before fading into nothing.
The reality of their situation crashed down upon the children. A ten-year sentence. A one-year lifeline. And the only path to reunion was to become something they didn't even know how to be.
Chén Yè watched the other children break down, his own heart a cold, heavy stone in his chest. He felt a distant pity for them, but what could sympathy do? He didn't know what it felt like to have someone waiting for you. . He had only ever known the harsh truth of the world: survive.
He turned away from their grief and walked toward his assigned block.
The interior was shockingly vast.
It was a three-story space compressed into a single, open-plan structure, with floating platforms and staircases of light connecting the levels. He saw a massive, empty training area, a bathroom large enough for a hundred people, a kitchen, and several empty bedrooms.
It was a sterile, lonely mansion.
He explored for an hour before the awe curdled into a cold understanding.
This wasn't a home. It was a meticulously designed cage. The luxury was a tool to make them comfortable, to make them forget the bars weren't made of iron, but of space and time.
He stood in the center of the massive, empty space and screamed, the sound raw and full of a rage he hadn't allowed himself to feel until now.
"DAMN YOU ALL!"
The echo died, leaving only silence.
He knew what he had to do.
He had believed that his "failure" to awaken meant he might be spared the war. A foolish hope. They would find a use for him, or they would discard him. Freedom was not a choice he would be given.
His mind, now cold and clear after the outburst, settled on a new path. A different kind of power.
If I cannot become a divine existence, he thought, a new, dangerous resolve hardening in his soul, then I will learn to control them.
The others in this group were his first potential assets. But his true target was the one he knew had the most value, the one with the powerful family, the one he had put in this world himself.
The Baron's daughter.
Xīng Hé.
He didn't know how, but he would find a way to get a leash on her. He had to. It was the only move he had left on the board.
Exhausted, he found a bed and collapsed, his mind already spinning with the first threads of a plan that would take him years to weave.
End of Chapter 7