The morning passed much like any other. Vaelorian sat near the window, turning the pages of his notebook. Several entries were scattered across its worn pages—observations about his breathing, unusual sensations, the stranger with the metal disk, and the small stone that had moved without an apparent cause. He stopped at the last entry.
Observation is not proof.
He read the words twice before closing the notebook. From the kitchen came the familiar sound of utensils and his mother's voice asking whether he wanted another cup of tea. Vaelorian answered casually, gathered his books, and left for the day. Nothing about the morning suggested that something extraordinary was happening elsewhere.
Far beyond the places he knew, an ancient mountain stood beneath a sky filled with dark clouds. Deep within it, hidden behind layers of rock and forgotten structures, lay a vast chamber. Its stone pillars were covered in markings that had survived countless centuries. At the centre stood an enormous formation, its surface cracked and its faint light flickering unevenly.
An elderly man stood before it. His clothes were plain, but the energy surrounding him was anything but ordinary. He examined the damaged formation with a grave expression. A sudden pressure swept through the chamber. The elderly man turned.
A man dressed in crimson robes stood near the entrance. His expression carried neither urgency nor respect.
"How long do you intend to keep this place sealed?" the newcomer asked.
The elderly man remained silent. The crimson-robed man took a step forward. The stone beneath his feet fractured.
"I asked you a question."
"This place is not yours to disturb," the elderly man replied.
A faint smile appeared on the newcomer's face.
"Then stop me."
The next instant, the chamber shook. A wave of energy erupted between them. The elderly man raised one hand, and a translucent barrier appeared before him. The impact struck it with a deafening roar, sending cracks racing across its surface.
The crimson-robed man moved again. His hand swept through the air, releasing a blade-like streak of energy. The elderly man barely managed to evade it. The attack struck a stone pillar behind him, splitting it from top to bottom.
Dust filled the chamber. The elderly man landed several metres away, one hand pressed against his chest. A thin line of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"You have grown impatient," he said.
"And you have grown weak."
Before either could move again, the atmosphere changed. It was not an explosion. No energy wave announced the arrival.
Someone had simply appeared.
A black-robed figure stood at the far end of the chamber. His clothes moved gently, although there was no wind. His face remained partially hidden, and his expression was impossible to read.
For the source, look to NovelPhoenix: the author posts this chapter there, while this version was reproduced without consent.
The crimson-robed man's smile disappeared. For the first time, he stepped backwards. The elderly man lowered his head slightly.
The newcomer in black glanced at the damaged formation.
"Who allowed this disturbance?"
Neither man answered immediately. The crimson-robed cultivator clenched his fists.
The black-robed figure slowly turned towards him.
"You simply haven't understood the difference between courage and survival."
The words were quiet. Yet the chamber seemed to grow heavier. The crimson-robed man's energy faltered. His expression changed, and for a moment, even speaking appeared difficult.
The black-robed figure raised one hand. The damaged formation began to glow. One marking after another illuminated across its surface. The light travelled through the cracks, spreading towards the centre. Something beneath the chamber responded with a faint vibration.
The elderly man's eyes widened.
"Impossible..."
The black-robed figure looked down.
"Everyone leaves. Now."
The crimson-robed man stared at him for several seconds before turning away.
"This isn't over."
"It never was."
The crimson-robed cultivator disappeared into the darkness. The elderly man remained for a moment, looking at the formation. Then he, too, left the chamber.
The black-robed figure stood alone. Beneath his feet, something moved.
And then the mountain trembled.
The disturbance began deep underground. It travelled through layers of rock before reaching the surface. Trees swayed violently. Birds scattered from the surrounding forest, and the temperature dropped within minutes.
Clouds gathered over the mountain. At first, they moved like an ordinary storm system. Then their motion became increasingly strange. The clouds began rotating around a region of the sky, while strong winds swept across the slopes.
Lightning flashed repeatedly.
But no thunder followed.
Several kilometres away, a small weather station recorded sudden pressure fluctuations. Its instruments registered changes that did not fit the surrounding atmospheric conditions. The staff checked the equipment, assuming a technical fault.
The readings continued.
By the time the storm reached its strongest point, the mountain was almost completely hidden behind dark clouds. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped.
The winds weakened. The clouds slowly separated, revealing the sky once more. The temperature began returning to normal. There was no clear explanation for what had happened.
At NASA, a group of researchers examined satellite imagery showing an unusual cloud formation over a remote mountainous region.
"Run the comparison again," one of them said.
"The satellite data is consistent. The formation changed direction, then disappeared."
"Could it be a processing error?"
"We checked that already."
The researcher leaned closer to the screen.
"Keep monitoring the region. I want the next set of readings as soon as it comes in."
Elsewhere, researchers at ISRO were reviewing atmospheric and satellite observations from the same period. One of them enlarged an image.
"These cloud movements are unusual."
"Any indication of a sensor problem?"
"Nothing conclusive. The readings need further verification."
The information was recorded for continued observation. Neither team had an explanation. And neither knew what had taken place beneath the mountain.
By evening, Vaelorian was walking home. The road was quieter than usual. A cool breeze moved through the trees, carrying the smell of damp soil.
He slowed down. For a brief moment, he felt an unfamiliar pressure around his body. It was not pain, nor was it exactly fear. It resembled the sensation he had experienced during his earlier attempts at controlled breathing, except this time it came without warning.
He looked around. The road was empty. A few leaves moved across the ground. Somewhere in the distance, a vehicle passed.
Vaelorian stood still for several seconds before continuing.
At home, he opened his notebook.
Experienced another unusual sensation while walking home. It lasted only a few seconds. No visible cause.
He paused, then added another line.
I still don't know whether these events are connected.
He closed the notebook. For now, there was nothing more he could do.
Far beneath the mountain, the black-robed figure had returned to the chamber. The formation was no longer glowing. He stood before it, holding a small black sphere in his palm. Its surface appeared perfectly smooth, yet the space around it seemed subtly distorted.
He watched it in silence. After a while, he closed his fingers.
"Not yet."
The chamber fell silent. But deep beneath the formation, something had begun to move.
And this time, it did not return to sleep.