The Chosen Ones followed a twelve-level progression of raw stone, divided into four realms: Resonance, Metamorphosis, Rebirth, and Transcendence.

The Resonance Realm focused on the growth and evolution of abilities. The Metamorphosis Realm shifted toward the fusion of soul and body, gradually eliminating the flaws of mortal flesh. Once they reached the Rebirth Realm, as soon as the soul, ability, and body were fully integrated, a Chosen One could already be considered a fantastical being that surpassed ordinary humans.

Depending on the Supreme Benevolence and matrix, the results varied. Some could bathe in blazing fire or soak in magma without batting an eye. Some could freely shrink or enlarge themselves, or even conceal their presence at will. Others, like the elves of legend, possessed an affinity with plant life, freely drawing vitality from grass and trees. And some could simply transform into monsters outright.

As for Formless, his Rebirth transformation was the conversion into a spiritual body.

Under the influence of his matrix, it even bore characteristics akin to Acheron[1], achieving a complete transformation between soul and spirit matter. Any fragment of spirit matter could be considered part of himself. It was through this transformation that he earned the name Formless, as he was able to parasitize countless hosts, existing everywhere at once.

Unfortunately, the techniques that had never failed him before suddenly fell flat after entering the rift realm, much like a certain Mr. Ji, who had been thoroughly taught a lesson by the local canned herring.

It’s awful! Fucking hell, it’s so awful!

These kinds of mindless and soulless puppets were supposed to be the easiest to parasitize and control, but every single one he ran into was insane. He had almost been infected himself and nearly slipped into madness!

With so much chaos and frenzy packed into their spirit matter, if Formless recklessly devoured it all, even he would probably undergo a catastrophic mutation on the spot.

The Dragonrite Society worshiped the power of dragons, drew close to their essence, and tried to harness that apocalyptic force opposed to the origin of sages, but that didn’t mean they actually wanted to mutate into abominations.

Alright, there were lunatics like that, but at the very least, Formless wasn’t one of them!

He simply couldn’t understand how a dignified sage could turn their own rift realm into something akin to a cesspit. Even for Formless, who fed on spirit matter and souls, this was utterly inedible!

And yet, the traces left behind by the many sages undeniably confirmed his original suspicion. This was the final resting place of Mercury! The information that guy Guangwen provided was indeed correct...

In the depths of the underground, Formless gazed greedily at the vast rift realm before him. This time, he could truly find a sage!

Just the thought of it made him unbearably desperate.

***

Never had Ji Jue faced such an overwhelming temptation. He felt like he had gone mad with hunger.

Inside the temporary workshop safehouse unfolded by the devil's work ball, Ji Jue was struggling to stabilize himself now that he had finally recovered a bit. He had to make sure his abilities, body, and soul were all in peak condition.

He was practically drooling. Not because of An Ran or Horsey beside him, but because of that tiny bit of refined essence within his soul, so close to his abilities...

His power was in a frenzy. It was like a rabid dog chained by the neck. No, more precisely, Ji Jue felt as if a part of himself had already gone mad, itching to roll around on the ground. It felt like ants were crawling all over his body, constantly begging him, Just one bite, bro, just one bite!

Ji Jue could only pour every bit of strength into restraining himself.

Endure it. Endure it. Endure it.

Back when they were outside, he could still tell himself the location wasn’t safe, that there could be danger lurking nearby. But now that he was hidden inside the workshop deployed by the devil's work ball, his already fragile willpower was beginning to crumble under the overwhelming hunger surging through his very core, until that hunger reached its peak, and Ji Jue could no longer resist.

To hell with endurance. I can’t take it anymore!

The power bound in shackles broke free in an instant. Light burst from the emblem of Deus Ex Machina, surging toward the scattered remnants of refined essence within his body.

Chomp!

It was gone in a single bite.

After that, Ji Jue’s vision went black. It felt as if, all of a sudden, someone swung a massive hammer straight into his skull. His head rang violently as his soul seemed to drift loose.

There was a sound next to his ear, but he couldn’t make it out. Only later did he realize that was his brain boiling over.

He completely lost consciousness.

Endless sensations, memories, and realizations poured into his soul like a waterfall, instantly crashing his ability to think. They filled him to the brim, but they didn’t stop. They kept flooding his mind violently and incessantly.

Though it lasted only a second, it felt like he had lived through centuries or millennia. There were too many, far too many, chaotic fragments of scenes and memories. Above that, there was smelting and forging. The records and history engraved within the furnace sprang vividly before his eyes!

No... the memories were so real that Ji Jue wrongly believed he had experienced them himself, and that he was merely recalling them now, which was why they were so clear.

At times, he burned for nine days and nights to melt unknown materials, again and again suppressing their almost living resistance with raging flames. At other times, like an assembly line, he processed vast quantities of steel and blood, fluidly crafting one mechanical heart after another, transforming them into flesh.

More often, he was part of some vast undertaking, pouring all his strength into refining the iron light within the furnace again and again, striving endlessly to approach the absolute limits of material properties.

It seemed to be a broken blade.

No matter how he called out, how he tried to stir it, the only response he ever received was silence. Occasionally, as if awakening from a long slumber, the blade would tremble ever so slightly, and a clear, ringing sword cry would resound across the entire rift realm.

Its name was Reformation.

Forged with the flames of the Doomsday Dragon as fire, and the bones of the Primordial Sage as its source, it had yet to take full form, but the moment its edge was fully honed and completed, it would become a radiant light capable of severing the eternal age itself.

Ji Jue sank into it, forgetting everything.

He devoted himself entirely to that process, as if using his own soul as the whetstone, tempering and refining without end. Until one day, the blade stirred once more, and the first speck of rust fell from its surface.

He thought he heard the world collapsing. And yet, it felt so distant.

After an immeasurably long stretch of time, he seemed to awaken from a deep slumber and hear unfamiliar voices.

Inside that clock tower, he looked outside the window, but there was nothing but ruins.

The Tower of Origin was nowhere to be seen. Within the shattered clock tower, the conversation continued.

“Your idea is certainly ingenious, but it’s a bit too farfetched,” the gaunt man said. “Besides, the history fixed by Supreme Benevolence is already part of the grand tapestry. What you’re doing is likely in vain.”

Mercury still stood by the window, gazing at the ruins outside. “If you don’t try, how would you know? Are you here to stop me, Titan?”

“Onyx is already gone, so let’s not bring up those messy old titles. Besides, even when I was Titan, I never forced you to do anything, did I?” The man sighed softly and waved his hand. “You know the consequences of doing this. I’m just curious... Mercury, will you ever regret the choice you’ve made?”

“Never,” Mercury answered without hesitation.

“You will regret it in the future,” Titan said.

“We’ll see then.” Mercury finally turned back. “Titan, you should leave now.”

But Titan still sat there, unmoving, only looking at her for a long time.

“I’ve regretted things before,” he said. “Many of the things I’ve done, I’ve regretted more than once. But by the time you regret them, it’s already too late. No matter how much you repent, it won’t help.”

Titan earnestly pleaded, “Don’t repeat my mistakes.”

Mercury said nothing more, only watched him. After a long while, she turned around and bid her final farewell. “Titan, you should leave now.”

Titan said nothing else. With a quiet sigh, he stood up and left. From then on, no one came to visit again.

Inside the workshop, only silence reigned. Aside from occasional alchemical work, Mercury spent more and more of her time standing by the window, staring out at everything beyond it. She was just watching, as if she was waiting patiently.

When she was alone, she would sometimes sing, her faint voice echoing through the quiet workshop.

I think of home, I think of home,

My home so dear, so lovely...

The sky so clear, the breeze so light,

Homesickness comes in waves tonight...

How are the ones back home these days?

They linger in my thoughts always...♪

As she sang, everything outside the window shifted from ruins into a town, and then that town collapsed back into ruins again. It happened over and over; it was an endless cycle with no end.

Yet neither her hometown nor the people from it could be seen. Until one day, the figure who had stood by the window from beginning to end also vanished without a trace.

After over four hundred years, what sounded outside the window was no longer false laughter and joy, but genuine wails of sorrow and cries of anguish. This was the ending of the long dream.

***

In the workshop, Ji Jue opened his eyes; he was drenched in sweat and gasping heavily. An Ran handed him some water.

“How long was I asleep?” Ji Jue felt like his throat was so dry it might crack open.

“A little over three hours,” An Ran replied.

It had been only three hours, yet it felt like hundreds of years had passed.

The records and imprints left within the furnace were too deep, so deep that Ji Jue had almost lost himself. But now, when he tried to recall them, everything quickly became blurred. His once continuous memory broke apart into fragments and was rapidly fading away. Even when he tried to summarize or describe the experience, he found himself unable to know where to begin.

The only thing he still retained was the conversation between Titan and Mercury. Ji Jue’s mind was burned out, but the Titan he saw was probably the leader of the resistance organization, Onyx.

When he woke from the dream, he could no longer even remember what the man looked like. Even the sound of his voice had been completely forgotten. The only thing he could never forget, even if it were burned to ash, was the emblem the man wore on his chest. It was so familiar. He raised his wrist in a daze and looked at his watch.

On the dial, a symbol like the silhouette of a mechanical structure shimmered with a faint glow. The two were exactly the same.

“Skyrail?” Ji Jue murmured in shock.

According to Encyclopedia of All Things: Comprehensive Guide, T5 had already existed during the era of the Eternal Empire, and Skyrail should have already held a crucial position at that time. Even after the Cataclysm Era began, it continued for more than a hundred years.

Titan had worn an emblem related to Skyrail. What was the connection between the two?

Ji Jue pondered. As expected, he came up with nothing. There were simply too many missing links, too many gaps in between. What Ji Jue knew was only fragments of historical traces, scraps of past events, and fleeting impressions left by refined records.

If he could really deduce the mystery of the Eternal Empire’s downfall from this, then why bother being a craftsman at all? He might as well sit directly on the highest seat of etheric authority and become a prophet instead.

He simply couldn’t make sense of it, but there was no point in dwelling on things he couldn’t figure out. What mattered more was focusing on the present. For example, the gains he had obtained from the essence.

Ji Jue lowered his head and looked at his hands.

1. The Acheron is a river in the Epirus region of northwest Greece. In Greek mythology, Acheron is often depicted as the entrance to the Greek Underworld where souls must be ferried across by Charon. ☜