Chapter 3: In a Cocoon of Warmth

Time seemed to stretch infinitely once more, each moment elongating into what felt like an eternity. The suffocating sensation that had gripped him earlier returned for a while. He knew he was moving again.

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the sensation of suffocation vanished. He felt as if he had been gently placed into a closed space, a warm and comforting enclosure. For the first time since he had died, he sensed the rhythmic beating of a heart—his own heart.

Months passed and then he was finally out. Coming out, the first thing he felt was heat. Wherever he was, it was hot. Then, a rush of fresh air entered his mouth—his first "breath" since dying. "Whew!" he sighed deeply, but to his surprise, it came out as the cry of a newborn baby. He had been reborn.

His memories of the first few years after this rebirth were hazy, a blur of images and sensations. His young, developing mind was burdened by the memories of his past life, making it difficult to fully grasp the present or past. It was a heavy load for such a small, growing mind to bear.

He found himself in a family that consisted of a mother, a grandfather, and a few cattle. They lived in a desert town where the heat was almost unbearable. He was given the name Wuyi, which in the local language meant "without guardian," because he had no father.12

His mother took good care of him, but every time she looked at him, it was as if she were searching for someone else. His grandfather, on the other hand, seemed to have expectations—expectations that were clearly tied to his absent father. As the days turned into years, he noticed a growing resentment in his mother's eyes and disappointment in his grandfather's eyes, as if he had become a symbol of their unfulfilled dreams and lost opportunities.

Wuyi suffered each day. The pressure of the past and present made everything muddled for him. But this did not continue for very long.

The burden on his mind of memories from the past and present that had been bearing him down was lifted when he found the chamber. Not a physical one, but a chamber within his mind. All he had to do was concentrate at the area in the middle of his eyes and he could enter the chamber.

It all started one night when he was in a deep sleep. He was having a horrible dream about his past life where his mafia bosses were taking back all the money he had siphoned with his hard work. When they came to kill him, a bullet was fired.

Wuyi's mind flickered in desperation. He opened his eyes and for a moment, he felt disoriented. The memories of his past life mingled with the sensations of his dream, created a web of confusion and clarity. But before he could dwell on it, he felt a gentle pull, like the whisper of a distant melody, beckoning him inward.

Closing his eyes, he focused on the sensation, allowing it to guide him. When he opened them again, he was no longer in the world he had just been reborn into. He stood at the threshold of an awe-inspiring chamber, unlike anything he had ever seen.1

The walls of the chamber were made of a luminescent, marble-like material that bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow. It was as if he had stepped into a realm woven from moonlight and dreams. The floor beneath him was polished azure stone of some kind, so reflective that it seemed like he was standing on the surface of a tranquil, blue lake.

His eyes were naturally drawn to the center of the chamber, where a raised, octagonal platform stood. It was made of some obsidian adorned with intricate, golden patterns. These patterns pulsed softly, as if in tune with his own heartbeat, creating a rhythm that resonated deep within his soul.

On the platform stood a single statue, carved from a kind of stone he did not recognize. It depicted a serene figure of a female in a meditative pose. The statue glowed with a soft, silvery light, casting gentle shadows that danced across the chamber. Floating gently in front of the statue was a tome bound in silver-white, its pages open as if waiting to be read. Seeing the statue, Wuyi felt a deep connection. He knew it was her - the goddess his family worshipped. It was her statue. She was the one who saved him.1

Above him, the domed ceiling was a breathtaking tapestry of twinkling stars, each one shimmering with its own unique light. It was a starry sky, so vivid and expansive that it made him feel both insignificant and profoundly connected to the world he left behind. The stars were not mere decorations; he sensed that each star was a promise, a potential waiting to be unlocked.

As he stood there, taking it all in, Wuyi felt all the pressure and pain he had been suffering disappear. He felt peace, as if he was home. Warmth washed over him.

This sacred chamber, with its aesthetics and mystical atmosphere, made him feel warmer than a mother's embrace. It promised him care and love without demanding anything in return. For the first time since his rebirth, Wuyi felt truly awake.3

He stepped onto the platform in front of the statue, his eyes meeting the serene gaze of the goddess. As he did, the tome in front of it seemed to shimmer, its ancient characters beckoning him to come closer, to read, to chant.

Wuyi stood before the tome that floated gently in front of the statue. The ancient characters on its open pages seemed to pulsate with a life of their own, drawing him closer. With a sense of reverence, he leaned in to read the characters, his eyes tracing their intricate forms. At first he could not understand the characters in the tome, but then as he looked at them he felt he could understand them more clearly. It felt that somehow the statue was helping him. The characters looked complicated but seemed to be an old version of Latin. Wuyi in his past life had studied many languages. He was called a genius because he could read even some ancient languages including Latin, but this version seemed more complicated—many characters did not make sense to him.

But as time passed, the characters began to make more and more sense. The first character told him the name of the statue was "Statue of Harmony." He realized this was the goddess that his family worshipped. It was her statue. She was the one who saved him.6

He continued reading. Below the name were long strings of characters spelling out a chant: "Concordia Empathis, bridge the harmony!" The words resonated within him, as if they were the missing pieces to a puzzle he had been trying to solve.

Taking a deep breath, Wuyi recited the chant aloud, "Concordia Empathis, bridge the harmony!" As the words left his lips, he felt a surge of energy ripple through the chamber, converging on the statue. The statue seemed to come alive for a second, glowing more brightly for a brief moment before settling into a soft luminescence. Wuyi felt the energy swirl around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth.