The Universe Is Innately Just 320 Unfurling Past Part One

Nothing came to his mind, but the young cultivator's heart wasn't shaken as he didn't stop his attempt. He could feel that the place that stood in front of him was one that counted heavily to his soul. He couldn't yet point what was causing him to feel like that toward the strange, unfamiliar construct. But his mind was h.e.l.lbent on relentless trying to remember.

"This entrance…", he mumbled as he caught sight of the lacking letters in the sign. He stepped through the large door with watchful steps that didn't miss any detail in the small construct.

Realistically speaking, the young cultivator had absolutely no cert.i.tude nor any hope for his attempt. But something deep in his soul made him yearn what he had lost, and even if he couldn't remember, he could still try and ask about his past.

As soon as he entered the coliseum named Gladiator's Heaven, his eyes caught on the dense line of naked crooked pillars that served as the main support for the humongous weight of the construct.

He caught sign of a small fracture in one of those pillars. He swiped his soul sense on that specific pillar, and couldn't help but come to a stop as he felt remnant of some kind of energy locked in it. His body shook as he felt an enormous familiarity coming from the energy left in that pillar; the familiarity Fell had toward that energy was such that he felt he could actually control that speck of energy.

"What is this place…", he muttered softly as his eyes turned toward the other pillar. Sadly, he didn't come to face any other peculiarity, and quickly began resuming his steps toward the sole soul sitting in the large room.

His steps produced small friction with the ground that echoed into an easily listenable sound that propagated through the large construct. Yet even with that, the old man sitting near the wooden reception didn't seem to notice the new arriving individual.

It was only when Fell appeared in his sight that the old man's slow sight turned toward his direction. A minute glow appeared on the old man's face, as though the man he caught sight of was his own grandson.

Sifiso rose from his seat as he stood in line in front of the young man facing him. He opened his lips slowly, as he prepared himself to greet the young cultivator, but nothing left his mouth, and even the glow in his eyes diminished.

What stopped him from opening his lips wasn't that he recognized something different from Fell, but was caused by the lack of familiarity in the youth's gaze, forcing him to swallow the word he was going to say.

He only looked deeply at his eyes, and caught on the confusion in the youth's soul. It didn't take long for the experienced Sifiso to understand that something had happened.

"What happened?", softly whispered Sifiso with trembling vocal cords. The emotions and words he had swallowed before were released through the two words.

His thought couldn't stay hidden, and although he had spoken them in a near-silent tone.

The two simple words resounded like thunder in the middle of a calm night inside of Fell's mind. They caused his body to twitch and trembled from the emotions hidden in these words. A painful empathy that caused an aching sensation to appear in every inch of Fell's ego body.

Sifiso's eyes turned firm as he saw the struggle happening inside of Fell's soul. And in the same way, a magnet would attract its polar opposite, the young man's struggle flooded through the void in his soul before appearing in Sifiso's face.

"Poor child…", mumbled Sifiso in his mind as he hesitated on stepping forward. He could sense that the Fell standing in front of him couldn't be compared to the youthful cultivator he had known. The last time he had seen him was less than three days ago, and even then, the youth hadn't been this solemn.

His extreme solemn- near-emotionlesss state seemed to hide a tremendous pain that originated from his ego. One that caused him to feel that an important component of his being was lacking.

"How horrible was the defeat for him to appear in this state…", he added as he began preparing cheerful words to ease the young warrior.

But as soon as his eyes left Fell's eyes, and descended along the youth's body, Sifiso's old body twitched as though thousands of volt had traversed his being. Flooded from the emotions coming from Fell, he had inadvertently missed the other individual that was with him.

Sounds of footsteps spread through the large reception of the coliseum, and before long, Sifiso appeared next to Fell. He crouched and took Akainmhar's body from Fell's dense grip, before moving, putting the immobile and unconscious body on the wooden table laying next to the lone chair.

"How did it happen?!", the shock and horror that dropped in his heart contagiously spread to his words and facial expression. The keen eyes of a coliseum manager checked the cultivator's body in a swift second, and didn't notice any life-threatening external injury.

His body moved, touching the emaciated body cultivator, trying to look for signs of internal damage, but his search came to a stop soon after it began.

"He isn't injured.", the word had escaped the young cultivator's lips and entered Sifiso's ear in an undeniable tone.

After exhaling a lengthy sigh that seemed to age the old man, Sifiso turned his gaze away from the red haired Akainmhar and pressed the dial of a small board sitting in the table. He opened his lips, and asked help from the logistical team behind gladiator's heaven.

Before he had the time to turn back toward Fell. The usually silent youth once again opened the dance, and exclaimed his vibrating tone that clearly showed his troubled emotional state.

"You seem to know me?", as soon as he opened his lips. It was as though a broken dam had opened in his soul with all of his doubts and confusion escaped through.

"Who am I?", the two questions unraveled the mystery in Sifiso's mind as he finally understood where the youth's confusion was coming from.

Sifiso's face tensed in a sudden manner, and the experienced manager finally understood that the youth had paid a tremendous price in the past three days. One that made him lose every memory of his past.

"You are… Fell…", the name of the young cultivator dropped in his ear for the first time since his awakening. His eyes opened as he could feel familiarity with the short name that left the old man's lips.

"Fell…", he repeated mindlessly as though he was inscribing the four letter in the surface of his brain.

"Surnamed Pluck, a native from the Core and one born out of its worst district… The infamous Baby Cemetery!", the word dropped like an explosive thunder in the mind of the young cultivator.

Sadly, although he now knew more about his own self, an even worst sensation appeared in his mind. As though an incredible itch was grating the surface of his soul, without him being able to do anything to it. The confusion in mind accentuated as two short words escaped his mouth in a dazed manner.

"Fell Pluck… Fell Pluck…", he repeated dozens of time in a row. As though the pain coming from an unknown past had caused him to feel out of his world. In the same way, a fish would finally found himself living in an unknown pond.

It was the same for the young native of the Core, who had suddenly found himself forced to defend the walls of a city he no longer knew, forced to accept a past he knew nothing of. All of that was due to the same driving forces that made it possible for him to survive long enough to absorb the Seed of Power.

The two-edged intent that made him this powerful had also made him hate the current situation deeply to the Core. Adding to that, the self deprecating thoughts that came from being incapable of stopping the b.e.s.t.i.a.l Formation, the young cultivator found himself split between two personalities.

Fell's relentless intent that had resisted the destruction of his soul, and the consciousness that had arisen from his new ego body seemed to collide in a paradoxical pugilat that put the youth's mind in a constant schism.

"This is who am I?", he exclaimed with a deep questioning. "Where is the Baby Cemetery?", he pondered out loud once again as he tried constructing a mental image of the familiar-sounding place where he was born.

Sifiso's eyes glowed as he swiftly grabbed a strange-looking phone from a pocket, and dialed the only number that could deal with the situation Fell was in.