MY HIDDEN TALENT IS FORBIDDEN BY THE HEAVENS-Chapter 145: THE WHITE FILAMENT

Chapter 145 — THE WHITE FILAMENT

The desert vanished.

Not gradually.

Not gently.

Long Hao stepped past Zehell’s reaching hand and into the cave once more. The dragon did not move to stop him. It only watched, violet eyes reflecting a depth older than worlds.

The rune stone stood behind it.

The Anchor.

Ancient.

Monolithic.

Carved with spirals that seemed to breathe faintly under the dim cave light. The hollow circle at its center pulsed—not black this time, not silver.

White.

Not the white of light.

The white of absence before color.

Zehell’s voice echoed faintly behind him.

"Long Hao—"

He didn’t turn.

Not because he didn’t care.

But because if he looked back—

He might hesitate.

His palm hovered inches from the stone.

The dragon’s voice drifted through the cavern like distant thunder.

"You stand before origin."

"You seek truth."

He exhaled slowly.

"I do."

"Then touch."

His hand pressed against the rune stone.

For a heartbeat—

Nothing.

Then—

Resonance.

It did not explode.

It aligned.

The spirals across the stone began glowing in sequence, white filaments racing outward from beneath his palm. Not heat. Not force.

Recognition.

The hollow circle at the center widened slightly.

The cavern air thinned.

Zehell felt the pressure instantly.

"Long Hao!"

He heard her.

But the sound stretched.

Distorted.

Like her voice was moving through layers of water.

The dragon’s presence intensified.

"Resonance confirmed."

The rune stone vibrated faintly beneath his hand.

His core reacted—

Not violently.

Not painfully.

Synchronizing.

The triangular lattice inside him hummed faintly, but there was no Longyu.

No guiding voice.

He was alone in this.

White filaments spread up his arm.

Not burning.

Threading.

As if the stone was weaving something back into him.

The spirals brightened.

The cave walls dissolved.

The dragon’s voice deepened.

"You will get to know the truth of your existence now."

The hollow circle beneath his palm turned—

Blank.

Not black.

Not light.

Blank.

A void without depth.

Without dimension.

Without even darkness.

His breath caught.

Then—

Impact.

Something pierced him.

Not physically visible.

But absolute.

A stab through his chest.

Through his consciousness.

Through memory itself.

He cried out.

Not in fear.

In shock.

It was not pain.

It was insertion.

Something forced into him.

Information.

Experience.

Awareness.

White exploded outward.

Not blinding like lightning.

Blinding like revelation.

The world collapsed into pure filament.

A single thread of brilliant white stretching infinitely in all directions.

He felt himself falling—

Or rising—

Or dissolving—

He couldn’t tell.

There was no up.

No down.

No self.

Then—

Flash.

Complete.

Silence.

—

Beep.

A rhythmic sound.

Mechanical.

Unfamiliar.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Long Hao’s eyes snapped open.

The ceiling above him was white.

Flat.

Artificial.

Fluorescent lighting humming faintly.

His breath—

Wasn’t his.

A tube filled his throat.

Air pushed into his lungs rhythmically.

Cold.

Mechanical.

His body felt—

Heavy.

Wrong.

He tried to move.

Pain flared across his chest.

Across his ribs.

Across his limbs.

His vision swam.

He looked down.

Bandages.

Gauze.

Transparent tubes taped into his arms.

Needles.

Fluid dripping from a hanging bag.

Monitors flashing green lines beside him.

He blinked slowly.

What just happened?

He tried to speak.

Only a hoarse, muffled sound escaped around the ventilator tube.

His heart rate spiked.

The monitor beside him began beeping faster.

He forced himself to breathe with the machine.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Memory surged.

The cave.

The dragon.

The rune stone.

The stab.

The white filament.

His eyes shifted to the side.

And froze.

Beside the hospital bed—

In a chair pulled close—

Zehell slept.

Her hand wrapped tightly around his.

Her head resting near the edge of the mattress.

She looked older.

Not drastically.

But undeniably.

Her features sharper.

More mature.

The fierce energy she once carried now tempered by something deeper.

Experience.

There were faint lines at the edge of her eyes.

Not age alone.

Time.

Ten years.

Maybe more.

Her green hair was tied loosely behind her shoulders.

A few strands fell across her cheek.

She wore modern clothing.

Simple.

Practical.

No armor.

No spear.

No desert wind.

The room smelled sterile.

Clinical.

He blinked again.

This wasn’t Ruinsand.

This wasn’t the Long Clan.

This wasn’t the Shadow Family’s world.

It was—

Different.

Modern.

Real.

He turned his head slightly.

A glass window showed a hallway outside.

White walls.

People in coats walking past.

Machines.

Carts.

A digital clock mounted near the door.

Numbers.

Clear.

Unfamiliar.

His mind struggled to reconcile it.

He tried moving his fingers.

Weak.

But responsive.

Zehell’s hand tightened reflexively.

Her eyes fluttered open.

Slowly.

Confusion at first.

Then—

Shock.

She shot upright.

"Long Hao—"

Her voice was softer.

Deeper.

More worn.

She leaned over him quickly, eyes scanning his face.

"You’re awake."

Her voice trembled slightly.

He tried to speak again.

The ventilator hissed.

Only a rough sound escaped.

She immediately reached toward a button near the bed.

"No, don’t—don’t try to talk."

"You’ve been out for so long."

Her eyes were wet.

She had cried.

Recently.

She leaned closer.

Her hand brushed gently against his forehead.

"You’re here."

"You’re finally here."

Finally?

His heart pounded.

The monitor beeped rapidly again.

She looked toward it and then back at him.

"It’s okay."

"You’re safe."

Safe?

Where?

He forced his eyes around the room again.

Medical charts hung at the foot of the bed.

A clipboard with writing he couldn’t read clearly from this angle.

A faint reflection in the glass window showed his own face.

Older.

Scars along his jaw.

Faint surgical marks near his temple.

He tried again to speak.

This time, she leaned close to understand.

Only a rasp.

She shook her head gently.

"Don’t."

"Doctor said we need to remove the tube first."

Doctor.

Tube.

Hospital.

His mind raced.

He had stepped into the Anchor.

Been stabbed by blankness.

Seen white filament.

And now—

This.

He squeezed her hand weakly.

She felt it instantly.

Her breath hitched.

"You remember me, right?"

Her voice was fragile.

He blinked once.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Yes.

She let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped for years.

"Good."

"Good."

She rested her forehead briefly against the back of his hand.

"You scared me."

His thoughts clashed violently.

Ten years.

Why did she look ten years older?

How long had he been unconscious?

Or—

Was this even the same timeline?

The white filament.

The stab.

The Anchor said—

"You will get to know the truth of your existence now."

Was this—

Truth?

He closed his eyes briefly.

Tried to feel inward.

Void?

Faint.

Distant.

Longyu?

Nothing.

Sovereign?

Gone.

Core?

Silent.

There was no triangular lattice.

No fragment.

No system.

Only his heartbeat.

Mechanical assistance pushing air into his lungs.

His eyes snapped open.

Panic flickered briefly.

He tried to sit up.

Pain erupted.

Zehell immediately pressed him gently back down.

"Don’t."

"Please."

"You’ve had multiple surgeries."

Multiple surgeries.

His gaze dropped to his chest.

Bandages thick and layered.

As if something had pierced him.

Directly through.

Memory flashed—

The stab of blankness.

The insertion.

His heart pounded faster.

The monitor beeped sharply.

Zehell turned toward the door and called out.

"Doctor!"

Footsteps approached quickly.

Voices.

A man in a white coat entered briskly.

He stopped mid-step when he saw Long Hao’s eyes open.

"Incredible."

"You’re responsive."

He moved toward the bed, checking monitors.

"When did he wake?"

Zehell’s voice was shaky.

"Just now."

The doctor nodded.

"We’ll remove the ventilator slowly."

"Try not to fight it."

Fight it?

Long Hao stared at the ceiling again.

What just happened?

He had touched the Anchor.

He had chosen to merge.

He had been stabbed by nothing.

White filament.

Flash.

And now—

Hospital.

Zehell older.

Ten years passed.

Or—

Was this his origin?

A memory?

Another life?

The doctor began adjusting equipment.

The ventilator hissed differently.

"On three," the doctor said calmly.

"We’re removing the tube."

One.

Two.

Three.

The tube slid from his throat.

Air burned as it entered naturally.

He coughed violently.

Pain shot through his ribs.

Zehell immediately supported him gently.

"It’s okay."

"You’re okay."

He gasped.

Breathing on his own now.

Weak.

But real.

His voice came out hoarse.

"...What..."

It barely formed.

She leaned closer.

"What is it?"

He swallowed painfully.

"What... just... happened?"

Her expression shifted.

Confusion.

Concern.

"What do you mean?"

"You were in an accident."

Accident?

His mind reeled.

"What accident?"

Her brows furrowed slightly.

"You don’t remember?"

His pulse spiked again.

Memory—

There was no accident.

There was desert.

Anchor.

Dragon.

He forced the words out slowly.

"...Where... are we?"

The doctor and Zehell exchanged a glance.

The doctor answered calmly.

"You’re at St. Gabriel Medical Center."

The name meant nothing.

Nothing.

Zehell squeezed his hand.

"You’ve been in a coma for nearly ten years."

The words slammed into him.

Ten years.

His eyes snapped to her face again.

Ten years.

That’s why she looked older.

Her hand trembled slightly in his.

"I never left," she whispered.

"I stayed."

He stared at her.

Confusion spiraling.

Was this—

The truth of his existence?

Had he always been here?

Was the Shadow King life—

The reincarnation?

Or was this the reincarnation?

His mind fractured under the possibilities.

The doctor spoke again.

"We need to run scans."

"Memory loss is expected."

Memory loss.

Expected.

Expected by who?

The Anchor’s voice echoed faintly in his mind.

You will get to know the truth of your existence now.

Was the truth—

That everything before this—

Was constructed?

He looked at Zehell again.

Her grip firm.

Real.

Warm.

Tears in her eyes.

Not illusion.

Not projection.

He whispered weakly,

"...What year... is it?"

She answered softly.

"It’s been ten years since the accident."

"You were twenty when it happened."

Twenty.

He did the math slowly.

He would be—

Thirty.

Her face confirmed it.

Thirty.

His mind reeled.

Shadow King.

Eclipse Dragon.

Heaven.

Anchor.

All of it—

Flickered.

Like memories behind glass.

But this—

This felt solid.

The beeping monitor.

The sterile smell.

The weight of his body.

Zehell’s aged features.

He stared at his own reflection in the glass again.

Older.

Scarred.

Human.

What just happened?

And what—

Was real?

His fingers tightened faintly around her hand.

She leaned closer.

"I’m here."

"You’re safe."

Safe.

The word felt fragile. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

His thoughts spiraled quietly.

If this was the truth—

Then what was the other world?

If that world was truth—

Then what was this?

The white filament.

The stab.

The insertion.

He closed his eyes slowly.

And for a brief, terrifying second—

He wondered if he had just awakened into the origin of everything.

And whether the dragon had shown him—

Not the future.

Not the past.

But the foundation.

His breath steadied slightly.

He opened his eyes again.

Zehell’s face hovered close.

Ten years older.

But still her.

He whispered weakly,

"...What... just happened?"

No one answered.

Because no one knew.

[Chapter ENDS]