The Martial Unity

Chapter 3945: The Archetype

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The embodiment of the Noosphere pushed ʼherʼ hand into the depths of Ruiʼs body, causing his torso to break and crumple. CRACK CRACK CRACK!

She pushed even deeper, making his ribs crack from the sheer force she exerted into his solar plexus. Rui gritted his teeth, coughing blood as he leaped back several meters weightlessly across the chamber of creation.

STEP

His eyes widened as she emerged before him with a single step, as the very fabric of reality itself warped to make the distance between them one step. ʼHerʼ leg blurred across the very fabric of reality, as ʼherʼ foot phased through the very fabric of reality, crashing into his jaw.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The powerful impact shattered his jawbone, leaving him feeling dizzy. Not because his brain had actually sustained the kind of damage that would be needed to make his brain feel dizzy, but because the Noosphere expected him to be dizzy after a kick to the head.

And so it was.

He stumbled, feeling a reality-enforced dizziness as the embodiment of the Noosphere continued peppering him with attacks that phased through the very fabric of reality itself, inflicting damage on him that defied the law of causality.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

A throat jab, causing him to choke even if his throat was intact.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

A low kick to the knees, causing his bones to dislocate.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

A series of boxer-like jabs to his chest, each causing his bones to crack under the weight of reality, forcing them to crack. He couldnʼt evade.

He couldnʼt block.

He couldnʼt redirect or absorb.

The defense that he had come to be so proud of, whether it was Aqua Existentia, Outer Divergence, Etherea Corpa, or otherwise, was ruthlessly demolished. He found himself reduced to a punching bag.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

And yet, a smile emerged on his face.

He found himself gazing into the depths of the eyes of the Embodiment of the Noosphere. It was like gazing into a camera that recorded a live feed that was being broadcast to all of human civilization that had ever existed. It was profoundly lifeless, and yet all too alive at the same time.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

CRACK CRACK CRACK!!!

His bones shattered once more as he failed to pose even the slightest bit of a threat to the embodiment of the Noosphere. His ethereal eyes grew ferociously intense as he unleashed the sum totality of everything he had to offer, every powerhouse of a technique he had ever cultivated in his life.

An onslaught of esoterics. All of his systems of thought. His Gene Realm and Autocorpus. The highest of principles of quantum mechanics, singularities, hypnosis, pulling out every means of resistance against his enemy.

And yet, she struck them down one by one.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The combined fusion of prophecy, Autocorpus, and systems of thought failed to overcome ʼherʼ perception of reality.

Reality itself.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The Gene Realm, invintium, the Poison of Yin and Yang, and the many other esoterics he wielded cracked upon the advent of ʼherʼ attacks, completely shattering as reality demanded of them. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Quantum tunneling, teleportation, entanglement, entropy, singularities.

Each of them collapsed under the weight of reality, forcing them to collapse in the face of ʼherʼ attacks.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The Forge of Creation, Megamind, enhanced neurology, misdirection, domains, the Tree of Life, and the various enlightenments he had cultivated.

Negated in the face of a power that made reality bow down before it.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

CRACK CRACK CRACK!

Rui vomited blood as his ribcage collapsed entirely. The upper half of his Martial Art attire had been completely destroyed, exposing a bloody torso checkered with countless wounds.

DRIP… DRIP… DRIP…

Copious amounts of blood began leaking from every orifice in his body as even his heart began palpitating uncertainly. Even his extraordinary healing had been completely crippled.

It didnʼt matter if the primordial seed within his body could easily recreate the needed nutrients; it didnʼt matter if the Poison of Yin and Yang enhanced his autophagy astronomically; it didnʼt matter that Weaving Blood, amplified by the Gene Realm, was desperately trying to heal his body.

The Noosphere perceived that he was injured.

Injured people couldnʼt heal.

And thus, it became reality.

For the first time in a long, long time, Rui was forced to bear the full weight of his wounds.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

This was the trump card of the alien virus, and as even Rui would have to admit, it was one hell of a trump card.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The embodiment of the Noosphere.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The weight it exerted upon the fabric of reality.

Upon the information dimension.

Upon him.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

It understood the nature of reality much better than Rui did, and was able to use it to its benefit. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Ruiʼs body rocked as his vain attempts at defense were completely overwritten. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

His broken body shook upon the impact as he staggered midair, weightless in the zero-gravity environment of the chamber of creation.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

ʼHerʼ palm pushed into his chest past the shattered pieces of his ribcage, wrecking his heart in a devastating collision.

His eyes widened as a wave of shock washed over him.

BADUMP…

BADUMP…

…

BADUMP

…

..

BADUMP

BADUMP

…

BADUMP

…

…

…

BADUMP

His heart began palpitating unsteadily, as it began losing the tether to the life itself. His eyes bore deep into the embodiment of the Noosphere ʼhersʼ bore deep into his, continuing on ʼherʼ onslaught of attacks.

They were simple attacks.

Punches.

Palm jabs.

Kicks.

The occasional elbow and knee.

A smooth, honed set of movements over and over again, relying on muscle memory and simple impact to inflict damage.

Like the quintessential essence of a Martial Artist. Almost as if ʼsheʼ was a stereotype of a Martial Artist in the mind of a layman. ʼAlmost… as if… sheʼs an archetype.ʼ His bloodshot, ethereal eyes widened with realization even amid his rapidly fading consciousness.

Archetypes.

They were a concept in philosophy, anthropology, sociology, psychology, literature, and many, many fields. But Martial Art was not among them. Only now did he realize the error in those ways. Archetypes were recurring patterns in the stories of human civilization. They were, in some ways, civilizational tropes.

The Heroʼs Journey. The journey of a young person, often a young man, from his humble origins to a greater and broader world to overcome great challenges and tribulations, and his return home as a changed man.

The Mother. The Child. The Wise Old Man.

And, of course, the Martial Artist.