The dark region seemed to be calling Ron, like an empty abyss, waiting for his consciousness to plunge into it.
As the meditation deepened, Ron could feel his consciousness gradually separating from his body.
This feeling wasn’t unfamiliar; during his practice of "Star Eater’s Ravings," he had experienced a similar state numerous times.
But this time, the degree of separation far surpassed before.
Ron’s consciousness was like a drop of water departing from the ocean, drifting alone in the boundless cosmos.
When the last thread of connection with the body broke, all his perception was pulled into that lightless region.
This place... wasn’t truly dark.
Ron’s ’sight’—though at this moment, he no longer had physical eyes—could capture a peculiar energy fluctuation.
It was neither light nor heat, but a form of existence surpassing conventional senses.
"Is this... high position space?" Ron’s thoughts drifted in this strange space.
There was no up or down, no near or far.
All conventional concepts of space had lost their meaning here.
His consciousness floated in this ’void,’ feeling an unprecedented loneliness and loss.
Ron sensed his senses being completely stripped away.
Not just the five senses of the body, even the perceptions on a spiritual level were gradually vanishing.
Fear surged like a tidal wave.
No sound, no light and shadow, no temperature, no touch... even the perception of self-existence was gradually fading away.
His consciousness struggled, trying to grasp any familiar feeling, but in the void, it seemed there was only endless ’nothingness’ left.
"Who am I?" This question suddenly emerged in his consciousness, but he couldn’t find an answer.
"Am I... Ron?"
He tried recalling his identity but found his memory becoming blurred.
A terrifying thought emerged: If he couldn’t even confirm his self, did ’I’ still exist?
Just as his self-awareness was about to be eroded by the emptiness, pinpoints of light suddenly appeared in the void.
Initially, they were faint light points, like distant stars.
But soon, these light points began to increase, densely filling the entire range of perception.
Connections started to form between the light points, weaving into a complex network.
Ron was surprised to find these were not simple lights, but fragments of memory—his memory fragments.
The initial memories were from Earth, an ordinary college student’s daily life:
The tiredness of early morning classes, late-night dormitory gaming sessions, the sprint in the library before finals...
These ordinary fragments seemed so vivid and precious at this moment.
Following that was the instant he died suddenly in his past life, the suffocation and darkness, and the confusion and unease when he woke up after crossing over.
The scene shifted to Black Mist Jungle, the despair from having a sixth-class star spiritual talent, the initial mastery of "Crown Breathing Technique," and the first time experiencing the wonders of meditation...
The memories flashed by like a lantern show:
The leap from nothing to a profession, the scorching pain of body tempering with hot oil, the slaughter in the corridor, the acquisition of Chimera Bloodline...
Each memory was incredibly vivid, rich in detail far beyond regular recollection.
Ron seemed to stand in both the past and present, as both an experiencer and an observer.
With the increase of memory fragments, a brand new perception was forming:
The memories of two souls intertwined, forming a complete life trajectory.
Ron saw the memories from this world’s perspective:
The extravagant life of the noble offspring, the setbacks in Knight Academy, the helplessness and indulgence from his father and brother, the despair of coming to Black Mist Jungle...
The two sets of memories were no longer simple splices but mutual fusions.
Led by the soul of the one who crossed over, at certain nodal points they perfectly blended together, making the identity of "Ron" more full and three-dimensional.
At this moment, the points of light began to rearrange suddenly, forming a vast and indistinct outline.
It wasn’t a shape that could be described.
It transcended the limits of human cognition, as if existing in countless dimensions, with every perspective presenting a completely different form.
That twisted structure defied all logic; just "seeing" it was enough to drive one insane.
Ron’s consciousness in the face of this terrifying form became insignificant like dust, no, even more trivial than dust.
At least dust occupies space, whereas in front of this existence, he didn’t even qualify as a "presence."
The outline made no sound, no movement, nor did it cast any "attention" towards Ron.
It just "was there," and that alone was enough to push Ron’s spirit to the brink of collapse.
It was complete disregard, a kind of despair-inducing indifference.
Just like a person wouldn’t care about the bacteria under their feet, this existence didn’t even regard Ron as an object worth communicating with.
He suddenly understood what true despair was.
No threat, no attack, just being treated as non-existent, viewed as even smaller than nothingness.
No communication, no exchange of thoughts, just a trace of this existence’s energy fluctuation was enough to distort and deform Ron’s spiritual world.
He felt his consciousness being stretched, compressed, folded, undergoing various indescribable changes.
After some time... maybe a second, maybe a century, time lost its meaning here...
Ron found himself in an incredibly familiar place.
— Earth, his homeland.
To be precise, it was the city where he was located.
The sun was shining brightly, the air was fresh, the streets bustling with people, a scene of peace and harmony.