The sun rose, casting a warm, golden hue across the unfamiliar shore. Al's surroundings were a mystery; he couldn't discern which beach or continent this might be. Luckily, he couldn't feel a single emotion devoid of any inkling of anxiety or stress.

Yet curiosity pulsed through his mind as he observed the vibrant, otherworldly entities that danced in his peripheral vision.

Among the lively, colorful assembly, a green toad perched, its legs neatly folded, its eyes serenely shut. It held an aura of distinction amidst the dynamic, ever-moving tapestry of its astral kind.

The toad's eyes flickered open, fixing on Al with an unmistakable intensity. Their gazes locked in a peculiar communion, bridging the gap between mortal and astral.

Then, in a voice too loud for its size and with a strange clarity, the toad demanded, "Stop that! Why are you looking at me like that?" Al's lips curved into an uncertain smile, like a person practicing the art of smiling before a mirror. He took measured steps towards the enigmatic toad, vocalizing his curiosity. "You can talk and see me," he said.

The toad responded in kind, its tone nonchalant, "Yeah, so what of it? You can, too. What's the big whoop?"

Al extended a courteous introduction, his approach making up for his odd staring, putting the toad at ease. "I would greatly appreciate it if you could enlighten me about my precise whereabouts and perhaps guide me towards the closest location where people are," Al inquired, his words calm and composed.

In response, the toad rolled its eyes before offering its insights, explaining that they currently resided in Southwestern India and gesturing towards the general direction where human presence was rumored.

Al expressed gratitude to the astral creature before heading forth, determinedly heading in the indicated path. As he moved away, the toad called out, arresting his steps. "Wait!" Al pivoted on his heel. "What is it?" he inquired, his tone steady and tranquil.

"If you can perceive the astral realm without an astral body, that's known as astral walking. It usually signifies impending demise for anyone, not in the Spirit Domain." Al absorbed this information, his mind processing the weight of the toad's words. "Are you suggesting that my astral body has already died?" he asked, searching for clarity.

The toad shook its head and then said. "Maybe. All I know is that humans who begin astral walking without being in the Spirit Domain tend to have mere weeks, or at most, a month left before their final breath."

Al again thanked the toad for sharing its information and resumed his journey. His steps suddenly felt unusually light. He cast his gaze downward, only to realize his twisted knife, Midnight Abyss, was missing.

The separation had been abrupt. “Was that figure the true form of Midnight Abyss? Was Midnight-Abyss the hair strand of a man's beard?” Al thought as he walked.

He strolled along, lost in thought when a peculiar sensation tugged at his senses from the right. He turned to behold a colossal elephant crafted from radiant light hurtling toward him. Its grandeur and luminosity appeared like a small sun. Yet Al's countenance remained serene, untouched by the impending marvel. He met the creature's eyes with a tranquil gaze and pressed forward as though the Light acolyte were but a passing butterfly.

Perplexed, the light-wrought beast halted its charge mere feet from Al's stand. At that moment, a figure emerged from Al's right from the embrace of the trees. Draped in a flowing white robe, the man appeared around his late 40s and bore a rectangular cloth draped across his shoulders.

The man's astonishment was palpable, his gaze fixed on Al's retreating figure. The realization that the stranger had invoked the presence of a Deva, only to halt it with a single, unwavering stare. "Wait!" the man's voice echoed through the wilderness as he walked to close the gap between them. Al turned, meeting the oncoming figure with an impassive gaze.

Al's scrutiny shifted between the man and the Light Acolyte, drawing a parallel to the priests he'd encountered in Western churches that had caused him and his Phantom Seed so much trouble. "Senior, you possess the ability to perceive Devas and Asuras?" Al looked at the man strangely and quickly responded. "If you're referring to the colossal elephant made from light beside you, then yes."

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The man's palpable excitement foreshadowed an impending deluge of questions. However, Al asked his question first. "What are your thoughts on perfection?" he inquired, his voice laden with sincerity.

The man paused, deep in thought. "Perfection," he began, "is an action. Many great men and women have practiced certain actions, and through their dedication, we can say that certain aspects of said actions reach perfection."

Al nodded, his curiosity genuine. "They do say practice makes perfect, suggesting that repetition leads to perfection. But that raises the question: Are we not born perfect, or is the perfect one yet to be born?"

The man thought more seriously and motioned for Al to sit on the floor beside him, which he did. "That's a difficult question. No one lives without making an error, which, by definition, means we are not perfect. However, does that mean the body itself is imperfect? I'm not so sure. What I do know is that a perfect being has already been born; throughout his various incarnations, he is all-knowing and all-powerful. This, of course, is Lord Vishnu, the great Preserver."

Al was taken aback by the man's response. He was a little familiar with Hinduism and recalled the name mentioned. "Lord Vishnu lives out a perfect existence in each incarnation? What would such a life even look like?" Al inquired.

The man's gaze shifted towards the space where he believed the Deva resided, though, unlike Al, he couldn't perceive it. "Lord Vishnu exists beyond the grasp of human comprehension. Perhaps, in the same way, perfection lies beyond the boundaries of human understanding," he reflected.

Al responded calmly, his words measured and thoughtful, "Much like paradoxes, they seem to defy logic, yet their existence affirms that certain truths elude the confines of reason and understanding."

The man smiled. "My name is Prasad Neeraj Kumar, and I am glad to have come across you, senior. Can I know your name?"

Al lacked all emotion, but he knew smiling was the appropriate response. He then introduced himself.

The day flowed as the two continued their conversation on the Idea of perfection.

Suddenly, a younger man emerged from the direction Prasad had originally appeared. "Sant Prasad, what are you doing? You've been absent for hours," he exclaimed with concern. Prasad responded, "I've made a new friend. His name is Alexander." He then turned to Al, extending an invitation to accompany them to their temple dedicated to Lord Vishnu.

As the trio returned to their village, the sun began its slow descent, painting the horizon with hues of crimson and gold. The astral realm buzzed with activity near the temple, captivating Al's senses. Amidst the astral it was a physical object drew his eye in, one sight seized his attention, affirming one truth while birthing a multitude of questions. It was a statue of Lord Vishnu, reclining upon a serpent with five heads.

Al abruptly halted, fixated on the statue. "Who are those serpents behind the statue?" he inquired, extending his hand towards the depiction. Prasad explained, "That is Ananta Shesha, the infinite companion of Lord Vishnu. It provides the foundation for him to rest upon. Ananta Shesha is said to possess infinite heads, though depictions typically feature five or seven."

A profound realization washed over Al. "And Lord Vishnu is one of the three Lords who form Brahman, the supreme reality... One is always three, and three is always one," he murmured to himself, the words carrying a weight of revelation.

Turning to Sant Prasad, Al continued his inquiry, a newfound interest in the beliefs taking root within him. "What other numbers hold significance concerning Lord Vishnu?" he queried. Prasad's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at Al's curiosity. "Well, he is often depicted with four hands, but if there's any number that truly embodies Lord Vishnu, it is 108. 108 actually is also a fitting response to your question regarding perfection."

Listening to Sant Prasad's words, Al accompanied the men into their temple, where he would spend the night. The hours slipped away in conversation, during which Al gleaned that roughly ten years had passed since his encounter with Lapapatzi.

Al absorbed the revelation about the renewed conflict with the Rakh-ahtan, though Sant Prasad framed it as a clash between two royal families. One family, tainted by corruption and decline, sought to intermingle its bloodline with the other. Yet, this scheme was met with intervention from the Devas and Asuras.

Come morning, Al expressed his gratitude to Sant Prasad for the warm welcome extended to a stranger. He then inquired about the directions to any secret mystery schools that might exist. Al hoped he would somehow run into a Mortal Ring disguised as a mystery school. Clearly reluctant to see Al depart, Sant Prasad attempted to convince him to stay. However, Al's resolve was unyielding; there was something else he felt compelled to accomplish.

With a sigh, Sant Prasad bid Al farewell, directing him northward on a journey that took six months on foot. Al remained detached, his emotions absent. However, he did have something he thought he should do, and that was what he was doing.

He had a purpose, a task he felt compelled to undertake. Accepting the map Sant Prasad offered, Al bid farewells, setting forth on the long path ahead.