Runes • Rifles • Reincarnation
56. Elements

Jin Shu floated in a boundless ocean of water, surrounded by silence and stillness. The tranquility was almost unnerving as he tried to make sense of this strange space. Was he here to learn something? He drifted aimlessly for a while before a gentle pulling sensation brushed against the back of his mind.

Focusing on the sensation, he felt the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tides. The realization struck him—this was the essence of the Water element.

Closing his eyes, Jin Shu centered his thoughts on the sensation. Slowly, he became attuned to the water around him, merging with it until he was the water. He formed a wave, surging through the ocean, then spilled into a river, trickling downstream. Evaporating into vapor, he became rain, falling gently to pool in a puddle. The puddle spread, widening until it transformed into a pond.

With the water came life. He felt the presence of fish darting through currents, algae swaying in the stillness, frogs croaking along the edges, and flies buzzing above. Life pulsed and grew as he expanded further. The pond became a lake, teeming with abundance, and still he grew. Finally, he stretched out into the vastness of the ocean once more, full of life and motion.

Then, it was gone. The sensation vanished, and Jin Shu found himself back in the white space.

He blinked, disoriented, as he readjusted to his human form. "Well, that was... interesting," he muttered, his senses gradually grounding him in the present.

Next came Fire. Jin Shu found himself standing amidst a roaring field of flames. Rivers of molten lava snaked across the landscape, and an ever-present sun blazed fiercely overhead.

Having already experienced Water, he understood what to do. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the inferno, closed his eyes, and waited.

The sensation struck him much faster this time—a thunderous, raging force pounding at the back of his mind. Without hesitation, he latched onto it, and his awareness shifted.

He became a small ember, drifting on the wind. He landed softly on a leaf, setting it ablaze. The flames leapt to the tree, consuming it, then spread hungrily through the forest, devouring everything in their path. The fire raged unchecked until it reached an ocean, its boundary and natural rival.

Unable to spread further, the fire turned inward. Jin Shu burned hotter, fiercer, until the ground beneath him melted into lava. As molten streams flowed over the ocean, they hissed and solidified into new land, halting his advance.

But he was not finished. Retreating deep beneath the earth, he gathered strength, growing hotter still, building immense pressure. Finally, with an explosive force, he erupted skyward, becoming a blazing ball of fire high in the heavens.

The vision ended abruptly, much faster than the Water element. Jin Shu opened his eyes to find himself once again in the empty whiteness of the space.

"An abundance of water brings life; an abundance of fire brings destruction," Jin Shu mused quietly. He wasn’t sure where the words came from, but they resonated deeply within him.

Moments later, the endless white space dissolved, replaced by a lush forest. Towering trees loomed overhead like leafy behemoths, their emerald canopies swaying gently. The air was alive with the rustling of leaves and the faint chatter of unseen creatures.

In the heart of the forest stood a gargantuan tree, its branches heavy with golden apples that shimmered in the dappled sunlight. Drawn to its grandeur, Jin Shu placed a palm against the tree’s bark. A pulse of life traveled through him, vibrant and ancient, as if the tree itself shared its story.

The forest dissolved, and Jin Shu became a seed. Buried deep within the earth, he pushed against the soil, breaking through to emerge as a delicate sprout.

If he had eyes, he would have blinked in surprise—he recognized this place. It was a scorched land, the one where the forest he had seen consumed by flames, ignited by a single ember, once rested.

A dark cloud gathered overhead, and rain poured down, nourishing the sprout. When the storm passed, sunlight broke through, warm and revitalizing. With each passing year, the sprout grew stronger, its roots spreading deep, its branches reaching high. Seeds scattered, giving rise to new trees, each taller and healthier than the ones before.

In time, the sprout became a colossal tree, bearing the same golden apples as its predecessor. The sweet scent of the fruit drew bugs, which nibbled at its bounty. The bugs, in turn, attracted birds, who sang and flitted through the forest.

Life flourished. The forest, once barren, now thrived with abundance and vitality.

The vision faded, and Jin Shu returned to the empty whiteness, a newfound understanding settling within him.

"With Wood as the kindling, Water and Fire in balance give rise to an even stronger life force," Jin Shu murmured, the words flowing from his lips as though they were ancient truths rediscovered.

As his voice faded, the ground trembled. A massive mountain erupted from the earth, its jagged peaks piercing the clouds. The land quaked with the mountain's emergence, echoing with the deep, rhythmic pulse of the earth’s heartbeat.

Jin Shu instinctively entered the flow state, embracing the sensation as he had before. He became the mountain—steadfast and immovable. He stood against the raging waves of the ocean, the howling gales of the wind, and the relentless heat of the sun at its zenith. Nothing could topple the unyielding mass of rock and soil.

Then, the sensation shifted. He was no longer the mountain’s surface but its core, deep within the earth. He felt himself harden, transforming from a raw mineral into an indestructible metal, and then further still. In the end, he became an unbreakable diamond, forged by the immense pressure and timeless patience of the earth.

An unseen force extracted him from the mountain, carrying him into a forge. He felt the searing heat as he was melted and reshaped, fused into the crown jewel of a powerful artifact.

The vision faded, and he returned to the whiteness.

"Earth—the great immovable force—and its child Metal, unbending and unbreaking. Only the slow erosion of time can bring them to heel," he said softly, as if reciting a universal truth.

The space remained unchanged, but a gentle breeze stirred his robes and ruffled his long black hair. His vision no longer came from his eyes—instead, he saw and felt everything. He was the omnipresent Wind, existing everywhere and nowhere at once.

He stirred great waves in the ocean, lifting its spray to form clouds that drifted into the sky. The wind carried a small ember, fanning it into a raging fire that consumed a forest, feeding its hungry flames ever more. Then, he swept against a mighty mountain, chipping away at its surface with an unrelenting gale, unearthing the hidden veins of metal beneath the rock.

The white, empty space returned one final time.

"The ever-present Wind propels all into motion," Jin Shu murmured, his voice distant, as if the words came from somewhere beyond him.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the visions and the white space vanished. He found himself back in his Aunt Chen's study, the familiar surroundings grounding him in reality. The room was unchanged, and judging by the serene look on her face, not even a second had passed. Yet within him, it felt as if he had lived through countless lifetimes.

Jin Shu opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. His mind raced, struggling to reconnect with his body. He moved his jaw, forcing air from his lungs, but only a strained groan escaped. His face paled with rising panic.

"Don't panic," Aunt Chen said gently, standing from her seat and placing a steadying hand on his back. Her voice was soft, soothing, like a lullaby. "Shh, everything will be fine. Just hold on to those feelings. Let them settle."

Her warm breath brushed against his cheek, stirring a forgotten memory—a mother’s embrace in a time of innocence and safety.

Without thinking, Jin Shu rose and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. Aunt Chen flinched at first, startled by the suddenness of it, but after a moment, she returned the embrace just as tightly.

Tears streamed freely down both of their cheeks. Jin Shu didn’t understand why his emotions had overwhelmed him, and even more puzzling, why Aunt Chen was crying along with him.

He broke the hug, stepping back hesitantly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I must have upset you,” he said, his voice shaky but finally his own again. He wiped at the tears streaking his face.

Aunt Chen dabbed at her own damp cheeks, offering him a soft smile. “No, you didn’t upset me. I just... got emotional too, that’s all.”

An awkward silence settled between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Jin Shu glanced around, his eyes landing on the book he had left on her desk. Grateful for the distraction, he turned and grabbed it hurriedly.

“I-I’ll go study this. Thank you for your help!” he stammered, his words rushed. Without waiting for a reply, he skirted around her and darted toward the door.

“Jin Shu—” Aunt Chen’s voice followed after him, but he didn’t slow down. He was too busy rushing down the hallway, clutching the book to his chest, to catch what she said.

“You should have stayed and listened to her,” the voice of his older self echoed in Jin Shu’s mind, calm yet tinged with reproach.

“I know,” Jin Shu replied quietly, his steps faltering for a moment. “But... I felt like if I stayed, something would change. Something irreversible.”

“You’re letting the kid’s emotions affect you too much,” the older Jin Shu remarked bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Hey—!” The younger Jin Shu started to protest but immediately froze under the sharp glare of his older self. He sighed in defeat, his shoulders slumping. “Uh... no, you’re right.”

Jin Shu exhaled, deciding to put an end to the bickering. “Anyway, let’s go put those elemental visions into practice,” he said, his voice firm, effectively dismissing the conversation.

The three psyches quieted, a silent understanding settling between them as Jin Shu prepared for what came next.