(Within the Time Stilled World, Moltherak’s Floating Island, Leo’s POV)
Leo stood in the center of the chamber with his palms slightly open and his aura uncoiled around him, its faint crimson haze drifting through the air as Moltherak circled him slowly, the dragon kindly guiding him through his first practical attempt at sensing the fourth dimension.
"Spread your aura wider, boy, not to crush or intimidate, but to feel," Moltherak instructed softly as his voice rumbled with ancient patience. "Search for places where your killing intent passes smoothly, then search for places where it slows as if pushing against something stubborn, then search again for places where it slips through with almost no resistance. These minute differences are the beginnings of what you must learn."
Leo inhaled, nodding as he pushed his aura outward until it filled the chamber entirely, each breath steady as he tried to shift his focus away from how the aura behaved and towards what the aura experienced, following Moltherak’s earlier teachings with full concentration.
"Good, now listen closely to your killing intent," Moltherak continued as he tapped the floor with the tip of his Dragon claw.
"You are not trying to sense walls directly, you are trying to sense how your aura reacts to the invisible terrain around it. Let the aura become your fingers, let the air become the curtain, let the pressure or lack of pressure guide your understanding."
Leo closed his eyes, knitting his brows tightly as he spread his aura again, focusing intensely on the faintest changes in sensation, waiting for anything at all that felt like a dip or a hollow or a thin patch in the fabric of the world.
Seconds passed.
Then minutes.
Nothing.
His aura felt exactly the same everywhere.
Just pressure.
Just weight.
Just him.
He tried again, pushing the aura out in a smoother wave, then pulling it back in, then extending it sharply to see if the sudden motion would help him feel a shift in the unseen structure around him.
But unfortunately, he still felt nothing.
There was no slip.
There was no catch.
There was no thinness.
There was no distortion.
Just the same heavy haze pressing outward, filling the same chamber, meeting the same air, reacting the same way no matter what angle or intensity Leo used.
"Old Dragon... I do not feel anything," Leo muttered, frustration creeping into his tone.
"Of course, you will not feel it immediately," Moltherak replied as he floated to Leo’s left.
"Try again. But this time stretch your focus thinner. Your aura is too coarse. Soften it until it feels like silk rather than a blade."
Leo exhaled and softened the aura, letting it unwind gently like a slow exhale of mist.
He waited.
Still nothing.
He tried expanding it faster, then slower, then in spirals, then in layered pulses similar to the aura shield training.
Nothing.
Everything felt flat, uniform, empty.
Not even a flicker of change.
Leo clenched his fists as irritation simmered beneath his skin. "Are you sure I’m not doing something wrong?"
"You are doing everything correctly," Moltherak assured him, "however doing something correctly does not guarantee progress when your senses have never reached into this realm before. Try again."
He encouraged, as Leo tried again.
Then again.
Then again.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as he repeated the same motions with absolute focus, each attempt hitting the same blank wall of sensation, each extension of aura returning the same dull feedback.
He paced.
He stood still.
He focused deeply.
He cleared his mind.
But unfortunately for him, nothing helped, for in the end, he still sensed nothing.
As finally, after what felt like far too many cycles of pointless attempts, Leo dropped his arms with a defeated sigh.
"Old dragon... I genuinely think I’m poking the air like an idiot."
He said, as Moltherak watched him for a moment, his ancient eyes sweeping slowly over Leo’s tired expression, before the dragon finally let out a deep, heavy exhale of his own.
"Yeah," Moltherak said quietly as he rubbed his forehead with one massive claw, "this is going to take a while for you to grasp, at least a couple years."
He said, as Leo mentally prepared himself for a couple years of mentally draining training.
—----------
(Meanwhile, Chaosbringer’s POV)
Chaosbringer sat behind his polished wooden desk, his fingers lightly tapping against the armrest as he reviewed the pending reports for the day, his expression serene in a way that suggested nothing in the universe could disturb his composure, when the doors to his office suddenly slammed open.
*Bam*
"Seventh Elder! Seventh Elder!"
A young assistant rushed in breathlessly, her face pale with panic as she clutched a data slate to her chest, the urgency in her footsteps echoing sharply across the chamber.
Chaosbringer lifted his gaze slowly, meeting her frantic eyes with a calm so deep it seemed almost rehearsed, as though he had already prepared himself for whatever disaster she believed she was bringing.
"I have some horrible news...."
She began, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to steady her breathing.
Chaosbringer merely raised a brow, his mind already far ahead of her, for he knew precisely which topic she had come to deliver, as he had already rehearsed this performance long before she ever entered the room.
"The Fourth Elder... he, he passed away yesterday night in his sleep," she stammered as her hands tightened further around the data slate, "and the doctors have officially declared him dead this morning."
She informed, as Chaosbringer let out a long, controlled exhale as he leaned away from the table, an expression of gentle sympathy spreading across his face with flawless precision, one he had practiced many times over the years whenever the situation demanded that he appear humane.
"Any foul play detected?"
He asked softly as he folded his hands on the desk, his tone perfectly measured, carrying the right balance of concern and authority, as the assistant shook her head quickly.
"None whatsoever. The initial reports claim heart failure. The internal investigators also found nothing suspicious."
She replied as Chaosbringer nodded slowly, his expression turning solemn.
"I see... it is truly unfortunate then," he murmured as he closed his eyes briefly, as though honoring the memory of the fallen Elder, "he was a good man, beloved by many, a pillar of our elders council.
I’m sure his absence will be felt deeply."
He said, as the assistant bowed her head, her voice dropping.
"They are planning to hold a public funeral tomorrow. There are predictions that thousands will attend, perhaps even tens of thousands, considering how respected he was."
She shared, as Chaosbringer opened his eyes again, offering a soft, mournful smile.
"Then of course I will attend as well," he said gently as he rose to his feet, adjusting the cuffs of his robe with deliberate grace.
"Inform the security team of my intentions. I will pay my final respects as any loyal brother of the Cult should."
He said, as the assistant nodded in understanding.
"Yes, Seventh Elder. I will notify them immediately."
She said before bowing hurriedly, as she rushed towards the door, unaware of the truth that lingered behind Chaosbringer’s carefully crafted mask.
*Click*
The doors shut softly behind her, silence filling the room once again, as only then did Chaosbringer’s expression finally shift.
His smile flattened into a thin, cold line, devoid of grief, devoid of guilt, devoid of even the faintest tremor of remorse, as he tapped his polished nails once against the desk.
*Click*
"The Fourth Elder," he whispered under his breath, "should have chosen his alliances more wisely."
A faint glint of satisfaction passed through his eyes, the kind only a man who had orchestrated the very death being mourned could possess.
For while the assistant hurried through the corridors preparing funeral arrangements, she remained blissfully unaware that it was Chaosbringer’s own order, signed in quiet secrecy and executed by shadows that owed him their lives, which had ensured the Fourth Elder would never wake again.
And tomorrow, beneath the grieving crowd, beneath the tears and prayers and ceremonial rites, Chaosbringer planned to stand among them all with that same serene expression, honoring a death he himself had written into existence.