Chapter 64: The Temple Library
The moment Philip activated the sigil, his mind entered the sigil
Reality folded like paper.
One blink—and the world around him was gone.
He found himself standing in an endless corridor of dark obsidian, stretching into a starless void. The air thrummed with ancient pressure, and the silence was heavy and familiar
"State your intent, challenger
It wasn't spoken in any earth language. It bypassed his ears and echoed directly inside his soul.
Philip didn't hesitate. "I wish to access the Temple Library. I seek soul-related texts. Techniques. Anything that can help me control and refine my power."
There was silence.
Then a vibration—like distant thunder rolling across dimensions.
"Accessing Soul Archive Protocol… Level: Intermediate.
The floor beneath him shifted. Runes spiraled outward from his feet, forming a staircase of light that ascended into a dome of swirling galaxies. Each step pulsed with memory.
He climbed.
Finally, the staircase ended.
He entered a massive, circular chamber.
. Before him stood a massive, circular chamber that seemed to stretch far beyond the limits of his perception. The walls were lined with floating bookshelves—shelves of varying heights, some towering, others barely above the ground. The tomes were not bound by ordinary means. Some hovered midair, their pages flipping with an unseen force, while others hissed softly as if breathing. Some books were covered in scales, others in feathers, and some shimmered with an ethereal glow, as though made of pure light.
He had arrived.
The Temple Library. It looked different than he remembered
A glowing figure drifted toward him—faceless, robed in starlight. Young emperor welcome back
What do you seek
He took a deep breath, grounding himself in the moment. "I seek techniques on how to move and control my soul force."
The being tilted its head ever so slightly. Then it raised a hand.
Immediately, the air around them shuddered.
A ring of books tore themselves from various shelves, forming a constellation around him. They spun slowly, orbiting him like satellites, each humming with restrained power. One book in particular pulsed brighter than the others—a tome bound in flowing bands of light and shadow, its cover etched with a shifting sigil that resisted being seen.
It floated forward, opening itself with a breathless rustle of pages.
Ancient symbols danced across its parchment—runes that seemed to rearrange themselves to match his understanding. Diagrams unfolded into three dimensions before him, forming geometric shapes that collapsed into fractals, then reformed.
His fingers hovered near the book, then gently touched the page.
A flood.
A torrent of raw, unfiltered memory. Not his own. Hundreds of visions—some human, others utterly alien—surged through his mind. Techniques, emotions, sacrifices, failures, and triumphs. Soul warriors from long-lost civilizations… beings who had bent their essence into weapons, into shields, into will incarnate.
The book burned like fire in his hands, but he held on.
Then, from within the text, a voice emerged. Soft and ancient.
"To control the soul, one must first give it form."
The page shifted, revealing a new diagram. It depicted a swirling cloud of soul energy slowly shaping itself into a fixed image—first 2D, then 3D, glowing with intense inner light.
The message was clear: visualization was the key.
"Picture the essence of your will. The image must be pure, clear, emotionally anchored. Not just seen… but felt. Imprinted deep into your subconscious. Once anchored, you must feed that image with soul force, layer by layer, until it becomes three-dimensional—real, solid in the inner world.
Philip closed his eyes.
And the image came to him instantly—an echo, etched into his memory.
The cracked world he had seen in the Nexus. A massive, withered tree standing atop a shattered planet, its roots hanging loose in a sky of void and violet fire. The sight had struck him then, and it still pulsed in the corners of his mind now.
A symbol of death and rebirth. Of endings and beginnings.
That would be his anchor.
He opened his eyes, energy swirling around him.
The book's pages turned again, showing him breath patterns, energy cycles, and meditative postures meant to cultivate clarity and connection with the subconscious. It would not be a fast path—but it would be his path.