Lord of the Truth

Chapter 1958 The gear

Mid Sector 99- Dawn Light Stellar Academy. ”....” Robin was hunched over the desk, his posture rigid and focused, holding the Seraphim quill firmly in his right hand as he drew lines with agonizing slowness, as though he were a child learning how to write for the very first time. Each line vanished the instant it was completed, dissolving into nothingness, only to reassemble as part of something far greater-something immensely intricate, layered beyond comprehension, something standing on the very brink of completion.

This was the first pattern of the Law of Truth-a first-stage pattern employed by all Truth Chosen, even the counterfeit ones among them, to glimpse the truths hidden within certain laws and creatures. A pattern that existed at the convergence center shared by Robin, the Cosmic Elder, Jabba, Shaddad, and all the Chosen without distinction.

Yet, like all Truth patterns, it was fundamentally distorted-utterly impossible to observe directly. The eyes of truth could approach it, brush against it, only to become helpless and blind, like a word attempting to read itself, or a mirror trying to reflect its own reflection.

That very pattern, for the first time in recorded history, was nearing the threshold of manifestation within the physical world itself.

In his left hand, Robin held a pure energy pearl, flawless and radiant, slowly absorbing it bit by bit, allowing its power to seep into him with extreme caution.

The Second Consciousness had abandoned the task of absorbing soul force, expanding its range, and stabilizing it-responsibilities now left entirely to the Third and Fourth Consciousnesses. Instead, it had been entrusted with a far more delicate duty: rebuilding the energy foundations from scratch, at an excruciatingly slow pace, and-most importantly-attempting to uncover a new fragment of insight with every Truth pattern that appeared upon those foundations.

Everything perceived by the Second Consciousness was instantly transmitted to the First Consciousness, recorded and archived without the slightest delay. This process had recently become Robinʼs favorite obsession-a daring, almost reckless project that possessed the potential to change everything. A project written on water, rootless and unstable, sustained only by speculation, intuition, and boundless contemplation.

But...

What expectations.

What contemplations- if even a fraction of them proved true!!

Whoooosh- ”Hm?!” At that instant, Robin froze completely. His hand halted mid-motion, his thoughts stopped mid-cycle- even the Third and Fourth Consciousnesses ceased absorbing soul force altogether. ”Whatʼs happening here?” Arcalon stopped writing and rose to his feet, tension creeping into his posture. He had felt it too... unmistakably.

The atmosphere within the room shifted. The air grew colder without warning, heavier, as if an invisible pressure were bearing down upon existence itself.

Robin slowly lifted his head and began scanning his surroundings. His eyes ignited with a deep golden blaze as he attempted to understand what was unfolding, instinctively searching for an enemy-despite sensing no hostility, no killing intent, no malice whatsoever... and yet, he found nothing.

For him, time itself seemed to lose meaning, stretching and stiffening as though it had momentarily forgotten how to flow.

Then-zzzn-

Something strange appeared before him.

A thread.

A small fragment of thread emerged on the right, as though it had been born from nothingness-short, fragile, barely existing. Moments later, an identical fragment appeared on the left. Both hovered close to one another, maintaining an impossible balance-neither separating, nor touching.

Robin raised his hand, instinctively trying to grasp one of them, but his fingers passed through empty air... they were like fractured rays of light, present yet unreal, existing outside conventional truth. ”Could it be...?” Robin murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible.

Then- zzzt-

The thread on the right suddenly moved, writhing like a serpent, coiling tightly around the other. In an instant, the two fragments fused together, merging seamlessly and forming a stronger, more defined thread-one that began to glow with a vivid green radiance.

Robinʼs eyes widened to their absolute limit.

His breath caught.

Slowly, carefully, he extended his hand once more-

And this time...

He touched the thread.

Diiing-

For a fleeting fraction of a second-so brief it could barely be called a moment -Robin felt as though his awareness split in two.

On one side, he saw Richard.

On the other, Serene.

The two figures stood apart, separated by an invisible distance that felt both vast and fragile, as if a single unseen force connected them... and might just as easily tear them apart.

But the vision did not linger.

Whoosh-

The green thread began to writhe violently, twisting around itself in tight spirals, coiling and knotting as though it possessed a will of its own. At first, it formed a pattern so abstract and alien that no meaning could be drawn from it -lines folding into lines, logic collapsing in on itself. Then, gradually, that chaotic shape stabilized, becoming visible to the naked eye.

Its color shifted.

The green light faded, replaced by a deep, radiant gold that pulsed with authority.

What emerged was a wooden wheel, ancient in appearance yet impossibly pristine, fitted with dozens of perfectly shaped spikes jutting outward in flawless symmetry.

Yet among all those spikes... one was unmistakably broken. ”The Gear of Inevitability...” Robin murmured, his eyes unfocused, his pupils barely reacting, as though he were reciting words older than language itself. Slowly, reverently, he extended his hand and traced his thumb along the edge of the gear, his touch gentle-intimate-like that of a man caressing a long-lost lover. ”...The gear that drives the entire universe in a single, unavoidable direction. The broken gear that may halt at any moment when the smallest variable is introduced... the Gear of Inevitability-the symbol of causality.” ”Hehehe...”

Robin tugged the golden gear closer, then casually tossed it upward, catching it again and again as if it weighed nothing-like a father playfully entertaining his infant child. ”Hahahaha! The thread has connected! The thread has finally-finally- connected!!! Hahahahaha!!!” ”What... what exactly is happening here?!”

Arcalonʼs eyes widened to their absolute limit as he stepped forward, drawn in despite himself. His gaze never once strayed from the Gear of Inevitability, not even for a heartbeat. ”Did you... did you actually obtain first-stage approval from the Master Law of

Causality?!” ”What about it?”

Robin pointed casually at the ring of inevitability, then gently clenched his hand. The symbol sank into his skin as if it had never been separate from him, fusing seamlessly with his flesh. His body flared with golden light for a brief, blinding instant-then the glow vanished, and the symbol disappeared entirely within him. ”Impossible!!”

Arcalon cried out, his composure shattering. ”How many master laws do you possess now?!” ”Hehe-if we count the Law of Truth, then I have five!”

Robin raised all five fingers of his left hand directly in Arcalonʼs face, his grin shameless.

Whoosh Whoosh Whoosh Whoosh Whoosh

Above each of Robinʼs five fingers, a small golden symbol materialized-

An open eye - a lattice cube - a balanced scale - a serpent devouring its own tail and finally, the Gear of Inevitability. ”This... this shouldnʼt be possible...” Arcalon muttered weakly, shielding his eyes as though they might burn out from the overwhelming radiance. His voice trembled as he raised it again. ”Even as a dead man, I know something is terribly wrong here!”

He leaned forward and poked Robin squarely on the nose. ”Why does a single person carry all of this power?!” ”Get those filthy fingers away” Robin slapped him aside with his right hand, then calmly drew the five symbols back into his body once more. His initial outburst of excitement had faded, but the simmering fervor was still unmistakable in his expression. ”Do you really think master laws throw themselves into my arms because Iʼm handsome? Because I beckon them, and they obediently come?”

He scoffed. ”You canʼt even begin to imagine what I had to do-what I had to sacrifice-to obtain each and every one of them.” ”Then what did you do for causality, exactly?!”

Arcalon shouted, jealousy dripping from every word. ”Youʼre sitting here playing with your new pen, and first-stage mastery of causality just falls into your lap from nowhere-this is cheating!” ”Hmph, fool.”

Robin shook his head slowly, then floated back down into his chair, settling into it with a broad, knowing smile. ”Someone who spent his entire existence hiding in isolation, living like a rat until the moment of his death, could never understand.” He leaned back, his tone calm-almost leisurely. ”Perhaps Iʼm sitting here,” he continued, ”but I have billions of arms moving in every direction-like a farmer who plants seeds deep beneath the soil, then calmly sits aside and watches them grow after a single, timely rainfall.”

He tapped his chest lightly. ”I may be sitting here... but Iʼm pulling threads across entire sectors.”