☼ Mindscape of Neo ☼
The Third Questioning: Discipline
The Sea and Sky of Neo's Mindscape were no longer silent.
They hummed, not like music—but like machinery.
Like reality itself was ticking, and Neo—not Heaven—was its architect.
In most others, the Triple-Haloed Sun of the Heavens shone above—watching, judging, weighing.
But in Neo's Mindscape… the sun hung wrapped in between Sea & Sky—twisting as though caught in the gravity of something older, something far less merciful.
A throne.
The Obsidian Throne still sat between the Sea and the Sky. t's shadow covering the kneeling figure of Neo, trembling beneath the weight of chains that had long since shattered.
His wounds weren't visible—but the memory of them bled across the sky. What he feared most wasn't Man nor Heaven. He feared precisely this absolutely maddened version of himself.
And above him, on the throne, sat Neo—eyes like burning droplets of blood, smile like a rift in sanity.
The Anomaly in his mind sat like a Ruler. Madly Majestic.
He had not risen.
He had not fought.
He had conquered—internally.
And now, the heavens, without emotion or arrogance, pronounced the final question.
"WHAT IS YOUR DISCIPLINE?"
The question didn't echo. It simply was. It arrived like gravity: constant, absolute, inevitable.
Others responded with philosophies. With paths.
With dedications to strength, insight, or the mechanisms of power.
Neo responded with silence.
A silence so deep, the Sea turned to stone.
A silence so violent, the Sky began to fracture—thread by thread.
The kneeling Neo shook violently. His lips moved—though no words came. As if he was remembering, or reliving.
And then—they came.
Visions.
Fragments.
Burning pieces of a nightmare so vivid, the Sea and Sky bowed before it.
Images floated through the blackness like ruined dreams:
A child alone, not abandoned—but ignored.
A boy questioning why the world punished the kind and rewarded the cruel.
A whisper in the dark: "If the world is broken, then remake it."
And then—a vow: "I'll destroy all who make life hard."
Not an oath of vengeance.
Not a dream of salvation.
Just a child's logic sharpened into a Ruler's blade.
And the heavens watched.
▣ Strength: Dominion over Self
Where others drew strength from spirit, discipline, or faith, Neo's came from domination of himself.
Every fear, broken.
Every doubt, dissolved.
Even his innocence, shattered and reforged into something dangerous.
He was not strong because he resisted weakness.
He was strong because he commanded it. He knelt to no fear, not even his own.
---
▣ Spirit: Madness Unleashed
It was not wild. It was precise.
Neo did not descend into madness. He was Madness Incarnate. Harnessed it like a black sun.
And from it, he drew something beyond logic, beyond stability: Creative Destruction.
He would build peace by purging chaos—with more chaos.
And in that paradox, he found his core: a madness with intent.
---
▣ Movement: World-Bending Will
Neo did not walk.
He imposed himself onto reality.
Every step was not a path—it was a redefinition of terrain.
He did not adapt to the world.
He rewrote the world, line by trembling line.
Every law of heaven, every rule of men—nothing sacred.
And so, where others sought a way forward…
Neo intended to forge his own—with mountains of bones and rivers of blood.
---
A light unlike any other burst from within his Throne—not Heavenly, not Mortal.
It was Sovereign.
The triple-haloed sun of the heavens dimmed for just a moment—hesitating. Not in submission. But in recognition.
The child who sought to build a better world through tyrannical peace…
Had not chosen a path.
He had authored one.
---
[HEAVENLY JUDGEMENT: RULER'S DISCIPLINE]
ABSOLUTE DOMINATION— MAJESTIC MADNESS— WORLD-BENDING WILL
---
A new sun rose behind him. Not golden. Not pure.
But obsidian.
And for a single heartbeat, across the world, that black sun pulsed.
---
Skycloud Academy Grounds
In the heart of Skycloud Academy, where countless destinies were forged, hundreds of teachers, Guardians, elders, and a few high-ranking clan members stood beneath the glowing canopy of the heavens. All eyes faced the sky—not just out of reverence, but in expectation.
For today was the Day of Judgment.
Above them, the Triple-Haloed Sun glowed in solemn silence, its rays piercing through space like spears of celestial truth. Beneath its unwavering gaze, the students were still submerged in their Heavenly Trials.
And so, the elders waited.
Some with pride. Some with fear. Others with ambition barely hidden.
Their murmurs stirred like low thunder beneath the clouds.
"How many do you think will pass all three questions?"
"Perhaps 56… 60 percent at best. The rest will awaken broken or incomplete."
"Hmph. My son will definitely pass!"
"As if I don't know how lazy your son is. He couldn't even clarify his desk, let alone the heavens."
The laughter was hushed, light-hearted.
Until it wasn't.
A firm, composed voice cut through the banter like a sword sliding from its sheath.
"Pass the questioning? That's not the true measure."
Silence fell like a guillotine.
All eyes turned toward the speaker—a broad-shouldered man dressed in white-gold robes etched with fire motifs. His insignia glowed faintly with radiant sword glyphs—the mark of the Sunblade Lineage.
"I'm not concerned about passing. I care only if… a seedling emerges. A chosen one.
A title… bestowed by the Heavens themselves."
A few gasped quietly. The words carried weight.
Titles were rare. Scarce. Bestowed to those who are worthy, by the Heavens themselves.
And then another voice chimed in—cool, sharp, and laced with long-standing pride.
"Indeed," the woman said, eyes like polished amethyst and lips touched by violet dew. "One need only look at the spark of life after awakening. The colour and grandeur of the sparks… you'll know. The Heavens don't err."
This was Lady Eleanor of the Violet Rose Family, clad in flowing robes of deep orchid and silver silk. Her expression was as calm as a still lake—but beneath it was the confidence of a once-great family that had never truly fallen.
The Violet Rose Family—ancient rivals of the Sunblades—had once ruled both court and continent. Now, though equal in might, their former glory cast a long, resentful shadow.
Still, none dared dismiss her words.
Even the Sunblade elder gave a quiet nod of acknowledgment.
Amid the rising tension and speculative chatter, a man stood near the edge of the courtyard—his eyes constantly flitting toward the horizon.
Kael's father.
He wore no ornate robes, only a clean merchant's coat and worn boots. But there was no mistaking the sharpness in his gaze—the look of a man who had conquered numbers, risks, and tribulations. A genius of commerce.
And yet, at this moment, he was just a father.
"Come on, boy... wake up. Let them see you," he muttered under his breath, voice too low to be heard.
He wasn't worried about titles. He was worried about his son.
And then—the sky changed.
No warning. No signal. Just reality rewriting itself.
Above the courtyard, above the cities and oceans, the sun flickered. A ripple of obsidian surged outward. And rhe sky dimmed - for an instance.
Gasps broke across the crowd as they turned upward—and then froze.
"W-what is that…?"
Above the entire world, for just an instant—
A FOURTH HALO bloomed around the sun.
It was too fast to study, yet too true to deny.
A perfectly concentric ring of black flame—appearing and vanishing in the span of a heartbeat.
But the impression it left behind?
Eternal.
Billions across the world looked up. Some dropped to their knees. Some screamed. Others merely stared in silent horror.
For all their power, wealth, and heritage—no one had seen this before.
Not even the oldest records spoke of a fourth halo.
---
At Skycloud Academy, silence gripped the courtyard like a chokehold.
The Sunblade elder took a step forward, his face pale.
The Violet Rose matriarch had lost her composure—her hand trembling.
Kael's father looked to the sky in shock, then to the awakening chamber beyond the trial barrier.
---
Only the highest in the pyramid of power understood what had just occurred. And even they… were not ready.
This was not a blessing.
Not a title.
Not even a prophecy.
This was the birth of a new Discipline.
A fourth road.