The clone that had listened for days did not meditate anymore.
It sat on a stone beneath a frozen waterfall—one suspended in time, within a locked sector of Fang Yuan's immortal aperture. No light touched the scene, yet vision was clear.
He had heard the rhythm. The Gu's pulse echoed differently now. Less alien. Less distant.
He closed his eyes, reaching inward—not to report, not to obey, but to understand.
What is a thread if not a tether? And what is a path if not a cage?
A crack formed in his inner core. Not physical. Conceptual.
He opened his eyes.
He no longer thought of himself as merely a clone.
And in that moment, the vault above cracked again—just slightly.