Max's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the extraordinary phenomenon unfolding within his inner world.
For a long moment, his mind failed to register what he was seeing—not because it was vague or mysterious, but because it was far too real, far too concrete for something that had no business being material at all.
"What the hell is this…?" he muttered aloud, his voice a whisper of awe and confusion.
Hovering beside his golden core, the embryonic seed-like form pulsed faintly with life, and the four small branches that had sprouted from it each radiated the unmistakable aura of a Concept he had painstakingly comprehended—Sword, Space, Flame, and Lightning.
Max could feel the raw truth of each branch, their energy entwined with his own, their resonance too vivid to be an illusion.
But that was exactly what disturbed him—Concepts weren't supposed to take form. They weren't things you could see or touch or track like cores or bloodlines.
