He stays with us," Arcueid said firmly, her golden eyes meeting the entity's lattice structure without hesitation. "Until you can find his world."
Long Chen glanced at her, surprised by the certainty in her voice.
"The True Ancestor speaks wisely," Artoria added, stepping forward to stand beside them. "One who has sacrificed so much for worlds not his own deserves sanctuary until his path home is found."
Quetzalcoatl bounced over, her earlier exuberance returning now that the crisis was passing. "Besides, we have SO much to learn from each other! The Star-Bearer must stay—my divine authority demands it!" Despite her playful tone, there was genuine warmth in her emerald eyes as she looked at Long Chen.
Something shifted in the entity's energy—perhaps the equivalent of consideration. "LOGICAL PROPOSAL. SANCTUARY STATUS GRANTED. STAR-BEARER MAY REMAIN IN THIS REALITY UNDER TYPE-EARTH'S PROTECTION WHILE SEARCH CONTINUES."
Long Chen straightened, gently removing himself from Arcueid's supporting grip with a grateful nod. "I accept your hospitality," he said, addressing not just the entity but his newfound allies. "And I will continue to help however I can while I'm here."
"RESTORATION BEGINS," the entity announced, its lattice structure expanding further. "RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE DEPARTURE FROM CONVERGENCE POINT. REALITY RECONFIGURATION MAY CAUSE TEMPORARY INSTABILITY."
As if to emphasize this warning, the chamber around them shuddered, the walls showing increased activity as realities began to separate and return to their proper places in the multiverse.
"Time to go," Aoko said, already moving toward what appeared to be a newly formed exit. "Before we get caught in the cosmic reshuffling."
They moved quickly, following a pathway that seemed to construct itself just ahead of their steps, leading them downward through the transforming tower. The chaotic architecture they had navigated earlier was now reorganizing into something more coherent—still impossible by conventional physical standards, but possessing an underlying logic that hadn't existed before.
"The Guardian is reestablishing proper cosmic architecture," Sion observed as they descended. "Fascinating to witness."
Outside the tower, the battlefield they had crossed earlier was transforming as well. The combatants pulled from different realities were fading, returning to their proper worlds as the convergence entity reversed its previous actions. Some noticed their departure, raising weapons or hands in salute to Long Chen and his companions as they disappeared.
"Look at that," Quetzalcoatl said, pointing to where the crimson sky was slowly clearing, patches of natural blue appearing like islands in a blood-red sea. "Your world begins to heal already."
Arcueid's expression was one of profound relief as she watched her Earth reclaiming its proper nature. "It will take time to fully recover, but the worst is over."
They reached the base of the tower, which now appeared as a more conventional structure—still impossibly tall, but no longer twisted and malformed. The city around it remained in ruins, but there was a sense of possibility rather than despair in the devastation.
"What happens now?" Ciel asked as they emerged fully from the tower, looking around at the destroyed city.
"We rebuild," Arcueid answered simply. "We help the survivors. We restore what was lost."
"And search for the Star-Bearer's home," Artoria added, her regal gaze turning to Long Chen. "You saved countless worlds today. We will not forget that debt."
Long Chen shook his head. "There is no debt. I did what anyone would do when faced with such a threat."
"No," Sion contradicted, her analytical mind giving weight to her words. "Not anyone. We've all seen enough of the multiverse today to know that's not true. Your choice—to heal rather than destroy—was rare and significant."
Before Long Chen could respond, a figure approached from the direction of the church where they had established their safe zone. Aozaki Aoko stepped forward, recognizing the newcomer first.
"Riesbyfe," she said with surprise. "You should be resting."
The woman Long Chen had healed earlier approached, looking remarkably recovered though still moving with careful precision. Her silver armor gleamed even in the strange half-light of the healing sky.
"The safe zone is secure," she reported, her eyes taking in their group with professional assessment. "The survivors felt the change. They sent me to find out what happened." Her gaze settled on Long Chen. "You healed me. And now it seems you've healed the world as well."
"Not alone," Long Chen replied, gesturing to his companions. "It was a collective effort."
Riesbyfe nodded in acknowledgment before addressing them all. "The immediate threat may be gone, but we still have people who need help. The church is becoming crowded, and supplies are limited."
"Then that's our next task," Long Chen decided, his practical nature asserting itself. "Before anything else, we ensure the survivors are safe and cared for."
As they began the journey back to the church, their group naturally fell into smaller conversations. Ciel and Riesbyfe moved ahead, discussing security arrangements and resource allocation. Sion and Aoko followed, deep in technical conversation about the implications of what they had witnessed inside the tower.
Long Chen found himself walking between Arcueid and Artoria, with Quetzalcoatl bouncing around them in a manner that somehow managed to be both divine and childlike simultaneously.
"So, Star-Bearer," Quetzalcoatl said, falling into step beside him. "Tell us about this world of yours. Is it all cultivators and star energy, or is there room for divine beings like us?"
Long Chen couldn't help but smile at her directness. "My world has its share of gods and divine beings, though perhaps not as... personable as you."
"Meaning they're stuffy and boring," Quetzalcoatl translated with a laugh. "Most pantheons are, to be honest. So serious about their domains and rituals."
"Says the goddess who regularly demands human hearts as sacrifice," Artoria noted dryly.
Quetzalcoatl pouted dramatically. "That's a complete misunderstanding of Aztec spiritual practices! Besides, I was always on the 'less human sacrifice' side of divine policy debates."
Long Chen raised an eyebrow at this exchange, and Arcueid leaned closer to whisper, "Divine beings from different pantheons tend to bicker about historical interpretations. You'll get used to it."
"I heard that," Quetzalcoatl said, though her smile remained playful. "And it's not bickering—it's passionate theological discourse."
"Is that what we're calling it now?" Artoria asked, though Long Chen noticed the faintest hint of amusement in her typically stern expression.
As they continued toward the church, Long Chen observed the interaction between these powerful beings with interest. Despite their different origins and natures, there was an undeniable camaraderie forming—forged in shared struggle and now evolving in the aftermath.
"Your cultivation system," Artoria said after a moment, changing the subject. "You mentioned it harnesses nine cosmic stars. Is this metaphorical or literal in your world?"
"Both, in a way," Long Chen explained. "The Nine Stars exist as actual celestial bodies in my universe, but they also represent fundamental principles of existence. Each star, when cultivated, grants different abilities aligned with those principles."
"And you've mastered three of these stars," Arcueid recalled. "What happens when you complete all nine?"
Long Chen's expression turned thoughtful. "According to the ancient texts, one who masters all Nine Stars transcends the barriers between mortal and immortal, becoming a true Hegemon capable of challenging the very laws of heaven."
"Sounds familiar," Quetzalcoatl commented. "Most pantheons have similar concepts—beings who rise from mortal origins to challenge or join the divine order."
"The difference being," Artoria observed, "that your system seems to work through harmony rather than usurpation. You don't steal divine power—you align yourself with cosmic principles."
"That's... a surprisingly accurate assessment," Long Chen acknowledged, impressed by her insight. "The Nine Star Hegemon Body Art isn't about conquering the heavens through force, but understanding them so completely that you become a natural part of their function."
Arcueid walked in silence for a moment, her golden eyes thoughtful. "That may be why you were able to connect with the convergence entity—the Guardian—when the rest of us could only fight it. Your cultivation system operates on the same fundamental level as its original purpose."
"Perhaps," Long Chen agreed. "Though I suspect any of you could have done the same, had you recognized the pattern."
"Doubtful," Artoria stated with characteristic directness. "Divine spirits like Quetzalcoatl and myself exist within established cosmic frameworks. We embody specific aspects of reality rather than harmonizing with its fundamental structure. And while Arcueid is Earth's embodiment, her connection is specific to this world."
"You're special, Star-Bearer!" Quetzalcoatl declared cheerfully, slapping him on the back with enough force to stagger a normal human. "Embrace it!"
Long Chen shook his head, uncomfortable with their assessment. "In my experience, believing oneself special is the first step toward arrogance—and arrogance is the quickest path to destruction."
His words cast a momentary silence over the group. It was Artoria who broke it, her voice carrying an unusual warmth.
"Humility from one with power to challenge cosmic entities," she observed. "Rare indeed. Your world must value wisdom alongside strength."
"Not always," Long Chen admitted. "Like any world, mine has its share of the arrogant and corrupt—those who believe power grants them the right to dominate others."
"And let me guess," Quetzalcoatl said with a knowing grin. "You make a habit of teaching such individuals painful lessons in humility."
Long Chen's smile turned slightly dangerous. "I've been known to offer... educational experiences to those who need them."
Arcueid laughed—a bright, genuine sound that seemed to lighten the twilight around them. "I knew I liked you for a reason."
They reached the outskirts of the church grounds to find a surprising sight. The survivors had emerged from the safety of the catacombs and were working together to establish a proper camp in the open air. Makeshift shelters were being constructed, cooking fires lit, and wounded tended to in the shadow of the ancient cathedral.
"They sensed the change," Riesbyfe explained, noting their surprised expressions. "When the sky began to clear, they knew something fundamental had shifted."
A small girl detached from one of the working groups and ran toward them—the same child who had embraced Long Chen during the rescue from the northern district. She stopped directly in front of him, looking up with solemn eyes.
"You fixed it," she stated with the absolute certainty only children can muster. "I told them you would."
Long Chen crouched to meet her at eye level. "Not alone," he said gently. "And there's still much work to be done."
The girl nodded as if this was precisely what she expected to hear. "That's why we're helping. Everyone has to do their part." She glanced at the powerful beings surrounding Long Chen with curious but unafraid eyes. "Are your friends going to help too?"
Quetzalcoatl immediately dropped to a crouch beside Long Chen, her divine aura somehow reconfiguring itself to appear utterly non-threatening. "Absolutely, pequeña! I'm an expert shelter-builder. Want to see?"
The girl nodded enthusiastically, and Quetzalcoatl winked at the others before allowing herself to be led away by the child, chattering about the proper way to construct a roof that would "please the rain spirits."
"She's good with children," Arcueid observed with mild surprise.
"Quetzalcoatl has always valued education and civilization," Artoria explained. "In her pantheon, she's associated with learning as much as with war."
The survivors had noticed their arrival now, and a ripple of recognition passed through the camp. Some approached cautiously, others hung back, but all watched with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
Long Chen straightened, recognizing that these people needed more than just practical assistance—they needed reassurance, a sense that their world could be restored after coming so close to oblivion.
"Your world is beginning to heal," he announced, his voice carrying naturally across the gathering. "The entity that caused the reality fractures has been restored to its original purpose as a guardian rather than a destroyer. The process will take time—approximately one month for full restoration—but the worst is over."
Murmurs spread through the crowd—relief, disbelief, cautious hope.
"During this transition," Long Chen continued, "there will still be challenges. Some areas remain unstable, and resources are limited. But if we work together, sharing our strengths and supporting each other's weaknesses, we will not merely survive but rebuild."
"Who are you to make such promises?" called one survivor from the back—not aggressive, but questioning.
Before Long Chen could respond, Arcueid stepped forward, her golden eyes gleaming in the twilight. "He is Long Chen, cultivator of the Nine Star Hegemon Body Art and the one who reminded the Guardian of its true purpose." Her voice carried a weight of authority that silenced all murmurs. "He comes from beyond our world, yet he fought to save it as if it were his own."
"And he shall have our full support in the restoration efforts," Artoria added, her regal presence earning immediate attention. "I am Artoria Pendragon, Bearer of Rhongomyniad, and I pledge my power to the protection of this realm during its healing."
Not to be outdone, Quetzalcoatl returned to the group with dramatic timing, the little girl now perched on her shoulders. "And I, Quetzalcoatl, Feathered Serpent God, bringer of civilization and light, shall bless your efforts with divine favor!" She punctuated this declaration with a flash of solar energy that briefly turned the twilight to noon.
The effect of these pronouncements was immediate. The uncertainty in the survivors' expressions gave way to renewed determination. Some returned to their tasks with greater vigor, while others approached to offer specific information about needs and resources.
As the impromptu council formed, Long Chen found himself at its center—not by his own positioning, but by the natural deference shown to him by both the survivors and his powerful companions.
"You lead well," Artoria observed quietly during a brief lull in the planning. "Without seeming to lead at all."
"True leadership isn't about command," Long Chen replied, keeping his voice equally low. "It's about vision—helping others see the path forward clearly enough that they choose to walk it of their own accord."
"A philosophy many rulers would benefit from learning," Artoria said, and something in her tone suggested personal reflection.
As night fell properly for the first time since the reality fractures began—a true darkness rather than the eternal crimson twilight—the camp settled into a rhythm of necessary work interspersed with rest. Watches were established, resources inventoried, and plans made for the following day.
Long Chen found himself unable to rest despite the immense energy expenditure of the day. His cultivation had always made him resilient, but more than physical exhaustion, it was his mind that remained active—processing all he had experienced and, more pointedly, considering his uncertain future in this world.
He made his way to the edge of the camp, finding a fallen section of the church's outer wall that offered both privacy and a clear view of the night sky. The stars above were unfamiliar constellations, reminding him forcefully of his displacement from home.
"They're different here, aren't they?" Arcueid's voice came softly from behind him. She approached without waiting for invitation, settling beside him on the broken wall. "The stars."
"Yes," Long Chen acknowledged. "In my world, the Nine Stars are visible to those with the spiritual sense to perceive them. They form a specific pattern—a map to understanding the cultivation path."
Arcueid was silent for a moment, her golden eyes reflecting the starlight as she gazed upward. "I've watched these stars for centuries," she finally said. "Through different ages, different human civilizations. They've been a constant while everything else changed."
"And now even they are healing from disruption," Long Chen observed, noting how the sky seemed clearer than it had been earlier, more stars becoming visible with each passing hour.
"Change comes to all things eventually," Arcueid said, her voice carrying the weight of her ancient existence. "Even to those of us who measure time in centuries rather than years."
Long Chen glanced at her, hearing something beneath her philosophical observation. "You've lived a lonely existence, haven't you? Watching over a world that barely acknowledges your protection."
Arcueid's smile turned wistful. "True Ancestors exist apart from humanity by necessity. We are Earth's will given form—beautiful to humans, yet fundamentally different." She paused, then added more softly, "Though there have been exceptions... brief connections across that divide."
"And now another interruption to your solitude," Long Chen observed. "A stranger from another reality entirely."
"An interesting interruption," Arcueid corrected, her golden eyes meeting his directly. "One who sees clearly despite the barriers between worlds. One who fights without hesitation for people he has no obligation to protect."
Long Chen held her gaze, recognizing something in her expression that transcended their different natures—a kinship of spirit, perhaps, between two beings accustomed to carrying heavy responsibilities.
"I will help you find your way home," Arcueid promised, her voice carrying absolute certainty. "However long it takes."
"Thank you," Long Chen said simply, knowing no elaborate expression of gratitude was necessary between them.
Their conversation was interrupted by Quetzalcoatl's arrival—the goddess somehow managing to move both silently and exuberantly as she approached.
"Star-gazing without me?" she asked with mock offense. "When I'm practically a stellar deity myself?"
"We were just discussing the differences between our worlds' constellations," Long Chen explained, making room for her on the fallen wall.
"Ooh, cosmic comparison!" Quetzalcoatl settled beside them with characteristic enthusiasm. "In my world, the stars are divine eyes watching over creation—and occasionally judging it when mortals misbehave."
"A common mythological interpretation across many cultures," came Artoria's voice as she too joined their impromptu gathering. Unlike Quetzalcoatl, she maintained her formal bearing even in this casual setting, though Long Chen noticed she had removed some pieces of her armor for comfort.
"The Lion King graces us with her presence," Quetzalcoatl teased. "I thought you'd be busy planning tomorrow's restoration efforts with military precision."
"The plans are made," Artoria replied evenly. "And even divine spirits require period of reflection."
As the four of them sat beneath the healing sky, Long Chen found himself struck by the strange turns of fate that had brought them together. A cultivator from beyond this multiverse, an embodiment of Earth's will, a feathered serpent deity, and a king bearing a sacred lance—each powerful in their own domain, each now connected by shared experience.
"Tomorrow begins the real work," Artoria observed, her gaze sweeping over the sleeping camp. "Healing this world will require more than just ending the immediate threat."
"One step at a time," Long Chen said, the simple philosophy that had guided him through countless challenges in his own world. "We focus on what's directly before us, solving each problem as it comes."
"I like that approach," Quetzalcoatl declared. "Too many immortals get caught up in thousand-year plans and forget to handle what's happening right now."
"Says the goddess known for complex calendrical prophecies," Artoria remarked dryly.
"Those are different!" Quetzalcoatl protested. "Those are fun cosmic puzzles, not stuffy plans."
As they continued their gentle banter, Long Chen felt something unexpected settle within him—a sense of belonging despite his displacement. These beings, powerful and ancient as they were, had accepted him without reservation. Whatever challenges the coming days would bring, he would not face them alone.
Above them, the stars continued to emerge from the healing sky, unfamiliar yet somehow comforting. And somewhere among those countless points of light lay the path back to his home world—a path that would reveal itself in time.
Until then, there was work to be done, a world to heal, and new allies who were rapidly becoming something more than mere companions of circumstance.
Long Chen smiled faintly as he listened to Quetzalcoatl regale them with an increasingly improbable story about wrestling star demons. For a man who had made a habit of defying fate, this latest twist in his journey was perhaps not so surprising after all.
The Nine Stars burned steadily within him, a reminder of both his origin and his purpose. Whatever world he found himself in, the path of the cultivator remained the same: to understand, to harmonize, to overcome.
And for now, that was enough.
Star Sovereign's Journey Across the Broken Heavens
Chapter 5: The Healing Begins
Dawn crept across the ruined city with tentative golden fingers, as if the sun itself was uncertain of its welcome after the long crimson twilight. Long Chen had risen before first light, meditation completing the restoration of energy that even his resilient body required after the previous day's exertions.
He stood now at the edge of the church grounds, performing a series of fluid movements that were both martial technique and energy cultivation. His form flowed from stance to stance with perfect precision, each motion calculated to circulate star energy through specific meridians and strengthen his connection to the Divine Ring within his dantian.
"Fascinating," Sion's voice came from behind him as he completed the sequence. "Your movements generate measurable energy fluctuations in the surrounding area."
Long Chen turned to find the alchemist observing him with scientific interest, one of her instruments held before her like a divining rod.
"The Nine Star Hegemon Body Art connects internal cultivation with external manifestation," he explained, not bothered by her observation. "The movements help harmonize one's energy with heaven and earth."
"Even in a foreign world?" Sion asked, genuinely curious. "Our fundamental forces must differ from your reality."
"They do," Long Chen acknowledged. "The energy here feels... more conceptual, less directly physical. But the underlying principles remain sufficient for adaptation."
Sion nodded, making notes in a small device. "Adaptability across cosmic frameworks. Potentially revolutionary for Atlas alchemical theory." She looked up at him with uncharacteristic hesitation. "Would you... perhaps be willing to demonstrate more of your techniques? For research purposes, of course."
Long Chen considered the request. In his world, cultivation methods were closely guarded secrets, passed down only to worthy disciples. But here, in this foreign reality where such knowledge might never have existed before...
"I see no harm in sharing the basic principles," he decided. "Though the advanced techniques require specific body conditioning that might not be directly transferable."
Sion's eyes lit up with intellectual excitement. "Even theoretical frameworks would be invaluable! The potential applications for world restoration alone—"
"Planning to monopolize our visitor's knowledge already, Sion?" Aoko interrupted as she approached, looking surprisingly refreshed despite the previous day's ordeal. Blue sparks danced occasionally between her fingers, betraying her magical nature despite her casual demeanor.
Sion straightened, adjusting her glasses with scientific dignity. "Merely initiating preliminary research protocols. The Star-Bearer's energy manipulation techniques could significantly enhance our restoration efforts."
"She's not wrong," Long Chen observed, seeing the practical applications immediately. "My cultivation methods focus on harmonizing with natural energy. If adapted correctly, they could help stabilize areas where reality remains fractured."
Aoko studied him with renewed interest. "A cultivation system that bridges realities... the Mage's Association would give their collective eyeteeth for such knowledge." Her expression turned wry. "Which is precisely why I won't be telling them about it."
Long Chen raised an eyebrow at this. "Political complications?"
"You have no idea," Aoko sighed. "Mages hoard knowledge like dragons hoard gold, and with about as much grace when they fight over it."
"Some things remain consistent across worlds," Long Chen noted with a slight smile. "The sects in my reality behave similarly."
Their conversation was interrupted by activity from the survivor camp. People were emerging from makeshift shelters, organizing themselves for the day's work under Ciel and Riesbyfe's efficient guidance. The atmosphere had transformed overnight—where before there had been only desperate survival, now purpose and determination colored the survivors' movements.
"They've found hope again," Aoko observed. "It's remarkable what a difference that makes."
Long Chen nodded, understanding completely. In his experience, the line between victory and defeat often came down to willpower more than raw strength.
As they watched, Quetzalcoatl emerged from among the survivors, the small girl from yesterday still apparently attached to her side. The goddess was demonstrating something with expansive gestures, occasional flickers of golden light trailing from her fingertips.
"Should we be concerned about a divine being teaching unknown techniques to human children?" Sion asked cautiously.
"With most deities, perhaps," Aoko replied. "But Quetzalcoatl genuinely values human advancement, if the legends are accurate."
"They are," came Artoria's voice as she joined them, her armor gleaming in the early light as if freshly polished. "Though her methods can be... unorthodox."
They watched as Quetzalcoatl helped the child form a simple shape with her hands, a tiny spark of golden light—nothing like the goddess's divine power, but clearly a controlled effect—flaring briefly between the girl's palms. The child's delighted laughter carried across the camp.
"She's teaching basic energy perception," Long Chen realized, recognizing the technique from his own earliest training. "Helping the child sense the natural energies around her."
"Is that safe?" Ciel asked sharply, approaching their group with clear concern.
"In this case, yes," Long Chen assured her. "The technique is foundational—like teaching someone to feel a breeze on their skin rather than commanding the wind itself. It builds awareness, not power."
Ciel seemed unconvinced, but before she could press further, Arcueid joined their growing assembly. Unlike the others, the True Ancestor showed no signs of having rested at all—perhaps unsurprising given her nature.
"The northern district has stabilized overnight," she reported without preamble. "The reality fractures have sealed, though the physical damage remains."
"Progress," Artoria acknowledged with a nod. "Have you checked the eastern sectors?"
"Not yet," Arcueid replied. "I was about to head there now."
"I'll join you," Long Chen offered, seeing an opportunity to be useful. "My spiritual sense can detect lingering instabilities that might not be immediately visible."
Arcueid nodded, something like pleasure briefly illuminating her golden eyes. "Good. We should cover as much ground as possible before midday, when the restoration energies seem to peak."
With quick efficiency, they divided responsibilities among their unusual group. Artoria would coordinate with Ciel and Riesbyfe to establish security protocols for the survivors and begin clearing safe zones within the city. Sion and Aoko would analyze the Guardian's restoration patterns to identify priority areas for intervention. Quetzalcoatl volunteered to handle "spiritual fortification," which seemed to involve both genuine divine blessings and an impressive amount of morale-boosting among the survivors.
As the others dispersed to their tasks, Long Chen fell into step beside Arcueid, heading toward the eastern sector of the ruined city.
"You could have chosen an easier assignment," Arcueid observed as they left the relative safety of the church grounds. "The eastern sectors were among the most severely affected."
"I didn't come to this world for easy tasks," Long Chen replied simply.
Arcueid studied him with those ancient golden eyes. "No, I don't suppose you did."
They traveled in companionable silence for some time, navigating the broken streets with respective grace. Where buildings had collapsed completely, they simply leaped over the rubble, their supernatural abilities making such obstacles trivial. Where structures still stood but were clearly unstable, they moved with careful precision, mindful of triggering further collapse.
The city looked different in daylight—the devastation more stark, but also somehow less apocalyptic. What had seemed like the end of everything in the crimson twilight now appeared merely as damage awaiting repair. Sunlight revealed patches of life persisting despite the chaos—weeds pushing through cracked pavement, birds returning to nest in half-shattered trees, even a stray cat watching them warily from atop an overturned car.
"Life persists," Long Chen noted, indicating the cat with a slight nod. "No matter the circumstances."
"It's what Earth does best," Arcueid agreed, a hint of pride in her voice. "My domain is remarkably stubborn about surviving."
They reached what had once been a major commercial district. Here, the reality fractures had been particularly severe—entire buildings existed in multiple states simultaneously, streets doubled back on themselves in impossible geometries, and occasionally objects would flicker in and out of existence as they passed.
Long Chen paused, extending his spiritual sense to its maximum range. "The Guardian's restoration is working," he observed after a moment. "But unevenly. Some areas are almost fully stabilized, while others remain critically compromised."
"Can you identify a pattern?" Arcueid asked, her own senses clearly perceiving similar disturbances.
Long Chen closed his eyes, concentrating more deeply. The Nine Star Hegemon Body Art granted him perception beyond ordinary sight—the ability to see energy flows, spiritual connections, the very fabric of heaven and earth. Even in this foreign reality, those principles applied, though the specifics differed.
"There," he said finally, pointing toward what had once been a subway entrance. "That's the anchor point for this sector. The reality fractures are originating from that nexus and spreading outward."
Arcueid nodded in understanding. "A convergence point that hasn't fully relinquished its hold. The Guardian's influence is working inward from the edges, but hasn't reached the core yet."
"We need to accelerate the process," Long Chen decided, already moving toward the subway entrance. "If we can stabilize the nexus directly, the entire sector should follow."
The descent into the subway station was like entering another world entirely. The reality distortions intensified with each step downward, the air itself becoming thick and resistant, light bending in unnatural patterns. Ordinary humans would have found it impossible to proceed—their minds unable to process the fundamental contradictions surrounding them, their bodies rejecting the conflicting physical laws.
Long Chen and Arcueid, however, were far from ordinary.
"Fascinating," Arcueid murmured as they reached the platform level, where trains once would have arrived and departed. "It's like a miniature version of the convergence tower itself. A seed of the same phenomenon."
The platform existed in at least three different states simultaneously—pristine and operational as it had been before the crisis; partially destroyed as if from conventional disaster; and something else entirely—a crystalline structure that seemed to pulse with internal light, organic yet geometric, beautiful yet wrong.
"The third state," Long Chen observed, studying the crystalline portions carefully. "That's not from this world, is it?"
Arcueid shook her head, golden eyes narrowed. "No. It's something the convergence entity was trying to create—a hybrid reality formed from multiple worlds fused together."
"And it's still growing," Long Chen noted with concern, watching as the crystalline structure slowly expanded, consuming more of the conventional reality around it. "The Guardian's restoration hasn't reached this deep yet."
"We need to contain it until the restoration catches up," Arcueid said, her casual demeanor giving way to the ancient power of her true nature. The air around her shimmered slightly as she prepared to invoke her authority as Earth's embodiment.
Long Chen raised a hand, stopping her. "Wait. Let me try something first. Your power is directly connected to this world—interacting with this foreign reality might be dangerous for you."
Arcueid hesitated, then nodded. "What do you have in mind?"
In answer, Long Chen drew Evilmoon. The black saber seemed to devour the light around it as he channeled star energy through the blade. Unlike the previous day's battle, however, he didn't prepare to attack. Instead, he moved with deliberate precision, using Evilmoon to trace a complex pattern in the air—a formation that glowed with golden light as it took shape.
"Nine Star Formation: Boundary Seal," he intoned, completing the final stroke. The glowing pattern expanded outward, surrounding the crystalline growth completely before contracting, forming a shimmering barrier that contained but didn't attempt to destroy the foreign reality.
"This will hold it temporarily," Long Chen explained, maintaining his connection to the formation through Evilmoon. "But I'll need to reinforce it with something more permanent."
Arcueid watched with fascination as he sheathed his saber and knelt at the boundary's edge. From within his robes, he produced nine small objects that gleamed with inner light—formation stones from his own world, each charged with star energy and carefully preserved.
"I was saving these for an emergency," he said as he began placing the stones in specific positions around the crystalline growth. "This qualifies."
"Your artifacts still function here?" Arcueid asked, genuine surprise in her voice.
"They're connected to my cultivation base, not this world's systems," Long Chen explained as he positioned the seventh stone. "That's why they can affect phenomena that your world's magic struggles with."
As he placed the final stone, the entire formation flared brightly, then settled into a steady glow. The crystalline growth visibly stopped expanding, contained within the nine-pointed boundary.
"Impressive," Arcueid acknowledged. "But temporary?"
"It will hold for approximately one month," Long Chen calculated, rising to his feet. "By then, the Guardian's restoration should have reached this level and naturally reintegrated this space."
"And if it doesn't?"
Long Chen met her gaze steadily. "Then we'll face that problem when it comes."
Something like admiration flickered in Arcueid's golden eyes. "You adapt quickly to impossible situations."
"Necessity," Long Chen replied with a slight smile. "In my world, those who can't adapt rarely survive their first major tribulation."
"Your world sounds... intense," Arcueid observed as they made their way back to the surface.
"It has its challenges," Long Chen acknowledged. "Constant competition between sects, beasts that could devour mountains, heavenly tribulations that descend without warning." He paused, unexpected homesickness briefly tightening his chest. "But also brothers who would die for each other, beauty beyond description, and the ever-present possibility of breaking through to new heights."
Arcueid was silent for a moment as they emerged into sunlight once more. "You miss it," she said finally. Not a question, but an observation.
"I do," Long Chen admitted. "Though this world has its own... attractions."
Something passed between them then—a moment of understanding that transcended their different origins. Both were beings of immense power who stood apart from ordinary existence, both carried responsibilities that few could comprehend.
"We should check the other anchor points," Arcueid said after a moment, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "If they're all like this one, we have more work than anticipated."
Long Chen nodded, setting aside personal reflections for the task at hand. "Let's move."
Throughout the morning, they discovered and contained seven more reality nexuses scattered across the eastern sectors. Each required similar treatment—a combination of Long Chen's formation techniques and Arcueid's knowledge of her world's fundamental structure. By midday, they had effectively stabilized a quarter of the city, accelerating the Guardian's restoration process considerably.
They paused atop a partially collapsed office building, surveying their progress. From this vantage point, the difference was visible even to normal sight—areas they had treated showed subtle but unmistakable signs of healing, reality firming up like cooling wax.
"We make a good team," Arcueid observed, perched effortlessly on the building's edge.
"Indeed," Long Chen agreed, taking a moment to replenish his energy through brief meditation. "Your knowledge of this world's structure complements my techniques perfectly."
"Is that how it works in your world too? Complementary powers achieving what neither could alone?"
Long Chen considered this thoughtfully. "Sometimes. Though more often, cultivation is a solitary path—one cultivator against heaven and earth, seeking to carve their own dao."
"Sounds lonely," Arcueid remarked, watching a flock of birds return to a neighborhood they had recently stabilized.
"It can be," Long Chen acknowledged. "Though I've been fortunate in my companions." A brief shadow crossed his features as he thought of his brothers back home, the responsibilities he had been torn away from.
Arcueid caught the expression, her ancient eyes missing nothing. "The Guardian will find your world," she said with quiet certainty. "Until then, consider us your companions here."
Before Long Chen could respond, movement from below caught their attention. Quetzalcoatl was approaching their position, bounding across rooftops with divine ease, her golden hair streaming behind her like a banner.
"Found you!" she called cheerfully as she landed beside them. "Impressive work, you two! The energy signatures have stabilized across the entire eastern quarter!"
"We've contained the major nexus points," Long Chen explained. "Though they'll need monitoring until the Guardian's restoration fully incorporates them."
"Perfect timing," Quetzalcoatl declared. "Because we could use your expertise back at the camp. Artoria has organized the survivors into restoration teams, but we've hit a snag with the southern perimeter."
"What kind of snag?" Arcueid asked, immediately alert.
"The fun kind!" Quetzalcoatl grinned, though her eyes betrayed more seriousness than her tone suggested. "Temporal distortions creating overlapping causality. Nothing leaves a mark because it both has and hasn't happened simultaneously."
Long Chen frowned. "That sounds like a fracture in time as well as space."
"Exactly!" Quetzalcoatl nodded vigorously. "And since you two have been so successful with spatial anomalies, we thought perhaps the temporal variety might benefit from your touch."
They made their way back toward the church grounds, Quetzalcoatl filling them in on the morning's other developments as they traveled. The survivors had organized remarkably efficiently under Artoria's guidance, establishing secure zones and beginning basic reconstruction efforts. Aoko and Sion had developed a rudimentary system for detecting reality fluctuations, allowing even ordinary humans to avoid dangerous areas.
"The Lion King is quite the commander," Quetzalcoatl remarked as they neared the camp. "Give her a crisis and some willing hands, and she'll have an entire civilization running smoothly by dinner."
"She was a king in her original world," Arcueid reminded them. "Leadership comes naturally to her."
"Different styles, though," Quetzalcoatl mused, glancing sideways at Long Chen. "She commands through authority and presence. You lead by example and inspiration. Both effective, just different approaches."
Long Chen raised an eyebrow. "I don't seek to lead at all."
"Which is precisely why people follow you," Quetzalcoatl countered with unexpected insight. "Those who crave leadership usually make the worst leaders. It's those who accept it as responsibility rather than privilege who truly excel."
Before Long Chen could respond to this surprisingly philosophical observation from the normally exuberant goddess, they arrived at the southern perimeter where Artoria stood directing a team of workers. Even engaged in practical matters, she maintained her regal bearing, every instruction delivered with calm authority that inspired immediate compliance.
She turned as they approached, acknowledging their arrival with a nod. "Good, you're here. We have a situation that requires your particular expertise."
The "situation" became immediately apparent. A section approximately thirty meters in diameter at the southern edge of their safe zone exhibited exactly the temporal distortion Quetzalcoatl had described. Workers attempting to clear debris found their efforts either undone immediately or completed before they began. Tools existed in multiple states simultaneously—both new and worn, broken and whole.
"Fascinating," Long Chen murmured, extending his spiritual sense to analyze the phenomenon. "It's like a loop in time's fabric, folding back on itself repeatedly."
"Can you fix it?" Artoria asked directly, pragmatic as always.
"Not alone," Long Chen replied honestly. "This involves aspects of your world's fundamental structure that I don't fully understand yet."
"But together, perhaps," Arcueid suggested, her golden eyes studying the distortion with ancient patience. "My connection to Earth combined with your formation techniques..."
"And a dash of divine authority!" Quetzalcoatl added cheerfully. "Time falls partially under my domain as a calendar deity."
Long Chen considered this combination thoughtfully. "It could work. A three-layered approach: I establish the formation framework, Arcueid anchors it to this world's reality, and Quetzalcoatl provides the temporal alignment."
"What do you need from us?" Artoria asked, already clearing the area of workers.
"Space to work," Long Chen answered, drawing Evilmoon once more. "And perhaps your lance's stabilizing influence as a final seal."
With efficient coordination that belied their short acquaintance, the four beings of power arranged themselves around the temporal distortion. Long Chen took the north position, tracing complex formation patterns with Evilmoon's darkness-wreathed blade. Arcueid stood at the south, her connection to Earth manifesting as subtle ripples in reality around her. Quetzalcoatl claimed the east, solar energy gathering around her form as she invoked her divine authority over calendrical matters. Artoria completed the square from the west, Rhongomyniad held vertically before her, its light a steady anchor against the temporal chaos.
"On my mark," Long Chen instructed, completing the final stroke of his formation. "Channel your power toward the center, but maintain your specific focus. Don't attempt to overwrite the others' contributions."
The others nodded in understanding, each preparing in their own way. Long Chen took a deep breath, centering himself completely before giving the command.
"Now."
Four distinct powers flowed toward the center of the distortion simultaneously—star energy from Long Chen, earth's will from Arcueid, divine temporal authority from Quetzalcoatl, and reality-anchoring light from Artoria's lance. They met at the distortion's heart in a collision that should have been catastrophic, four fundamentally different cosmic principles attempting to occupy the same space.
Instead, guided by Long Chen's formation framework, they interwove—star energy providing the structure, Earth's will supplying the substance, divine authority aligning the temporal flow, and Rhongomyniad's light binding it all to stable reality.
For a moment, the distortion seemed to intensify, time fracturing even more visibly as objects blurred between states. Then, gradually, the chaos began to settle. Time resumed its proper flow, objects stabilized into single states, and the fabric of reality smoothed like water after a stone's ripples fade.
"It's working," Artoria observed, her concentration unwavering as she maintained Rhongomyniad's contribution.
"Almost there," Long Chen confirmed, feeling the formation settling into place. "Just a few more seconds..."
With a final pulse of combined energy, the temporal distortion collapsed entirely, reality snapping back into proper alignment. The four powers withdrew simultaneously, the formation complete.
"Well done!" Quetzalcoatl exclaimed, the first to break the focused silence. "That was the most fun I've had in centuries! Did you see how the temporal strands rewove themselves? Beautiful!"
Long Chen couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm even as he checked the formation's stability with his spiritual sense. "It's holding perfectly. The Guardian's restoration should be able to fully incorporate this section now."
"An effective collaboration," Artoria acknowledged, her usual reserve softened slightly by satisfaction at their success. "Your formation techniques are remarkably adaptable, Long Chen."
"The Nine Star Hegemon Body Art was designed to harmonize with cosmic principles," he explained. "The specific manifestations differ across worlds, but the underlying concepts remain consistent."
"Which is why you could interface with the Guardian when the rest of us could only fight it," Arcueid noted, making the connection. "Your cultivation system operates on the same fundamental level as the multiverse's structure itself."
Long Chen considered this insight with mild surprise. "I hadn't thought of it that way, but you may be right. The ancient texts speak of the Nine Stars existing 'before heaven and earth separated,' which could refer to a time before individual realities fully formed."
"Cosmic cultivation," Quetzalcoatl said with appreciative wonder. "No wonder you can adapt so easily to our world. You're practically family to the universe itself!"
"I wouldn't go that far," Long Chen demurred, uncomfortable with anything that might sound like arrogance. "I've simply had good teachers and difficult experiences to forge my path."
Artoria studied him with renewed interest. "Regardless, your abilities have proven invaluable. With techniques like these, our restoration efforts could progress much faster than anticipated."
"Which means we need to maximize their application," Arcueid concluded practically. "There are still major distortions in the western and northern sectors that require similar treatment."
"We'll establish teams," Artoria decided, her tactical mind already formulating a plan. "Long Chen can train others in the basic principles of his formation techniques, allowing us to address multiple sites simultaneously."
"Training would be possible for the foundational concepts," Long Chen agreed. "Though the higher-level formations require cultivation base to execute properly."
"Then we focus on what can be taught," Artoria stated. "Even limited application would significantly accelerate our progress."
As they discussed the logistics of implementing such training, Long Chen found himself impressed by how quickly this disparate group had formed an effective unit. Beings from entirely different worlds, with vastly different powers and perspectives, yet working in seamless cooperation toward a shared goal.
It reminded him of his brothers back home—different in their abilities and temperaments, yet united in purpose. The thought brought both comfort and a renewed pang of homesickness.
Quetzalcoatl, with her divine perception, seemed to sense his momentary melancholy. "Don't worry, Star-Bearer," she said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Family can be found in unexpected places. And while we work to return you home, we can be your family here."
The simple statement, delivered with genuine warmth, caught Long Chen off guard. Before he could formulate a response, they were interrupted by the arrival of Aoko and Sion, both looking excited despite their obvious exhaustion.
"We've made a breakthrough," Aoko announced without preamble. "The Guardian has established a communication protocol."
"It wants to speak with you specifically, Long Chen," Sion added, her scientific precision not quite masking her excitement. "About your world—and the possibility of establishing a direct connection."
Long Chen felt his heart rate quicken despite his cultivator's control. "A connection? Does that mean—"
"Nothing certain yet," Aoko cautioned. "But it's the first concrete step toward finding your way home."
The mixed emotions that swept through Long Chen at this news were complex—hope and anticipation, certainly, but also a surprising reluctance. In just two days, he had formed connections in this world, found purpose and even friendship among beings who should have been utterly alien to him.
Arcueid placed a hand on his arm, the gesture both supportive and somehow possessive. "This is good news," she said simply. "Though we're in no rush to lose you."
"Indeed not," Artoria agreed with unexpected warmth. "Your world has waited this long. It can wait while we restore ours with your assistance."
"Besides," Quetzalcoatl added with her infectious smile, "what's a few days or even weeks to beings like us? We need to have some adventures together before you go running off to another universe!"
Long Chen looked at the three powerful women who had, against all probability, become his allies and perhaps even friends in this strange world. Each radiated a different quality—Arcueid's ancient patience, Artoria's steadfast nobility, Quetzalcoatl's vibrant passion—yet all shared a genuine connection to him that transcended their brief acquaintance.
"The Guardian can wait until we've completed today's work," he decided, surprising himself with how natural it felt to include himself in their collective effort. "My world has existed without me for this long. As you say, a few more days won't matter."
The approving looks this decision earned him confirmed he had made the right choice. Whatever path home might be revealed, it would be there tomorrow. Today, there was a broken world that needed healing—and unexpected companions who had welcomed him into their midst without reservation.