Donning a pensive mien, Karma asked, "What makes this Doyen Tathāgata more deserving than I am of the Temporal Ore, hmm?"

"Curiosity is a natural mortal desire, Benefactor," patiently replied the foremost monk, "so we shall forgive your sacrilege just this once."

"Doyen Tathāgata is of the conditioned," continued the second. "Spirituality begets wisdom. Wisdom begets enlightenment. Enlightenment begets Buddha."

"With Doyen Tathāgata's exalted cultivation," said the third, "even the most sterile seed shall blossom into a bodhi tree most sacred."

"You are unenlightened," ended the fourth, "your soil infertile. A great seed such as the Temporal Ore is wasted on you."

Their bamboo staffs rent the earth as one.

"You bear no Karma with this object. Return it."

Karma, nodding sagely, declared, "Agreed. I have no Karma, whereas you four do."

I've been thinking ...

"As such, I will yield the Temporal Ore."

My Domain was entitled "Earthly Domain: Karmic Collapse"—

"However, I have one condition."

Not "Earthly Armor: Karmic Bulwark." And a Domain, by definition—

"At least one of you must land a single hit on me."

Encompasses an area, does it not?

Following a brusque pause, they somberly intoned, "We accept."

"Excellent! We begin the moment I toss this spatial pouch," proclaimed Karma, producing a nondescript grey sack.

"What are you doing?" rang Anlîthëma's bemused divine sense. "I'm still in here, you know!"

"It's like they said: I have no Karma. Unfortunately, you—and they—do."

Veins bulged along Karma's forearm as he lowered the spatial pouch, spurring the monks' spiritual energy fluctuations into burgeoning tumult.

Pre-empting Anlîthëma's protests, Karma's arm whipped in a scything uppercut, eliciting a piercing whoosh. The Cittamātra warriors erupted forth with inhuman agility, practically teleporting to Karma's sides amid violent aerial maneuvers. As if venting Buddha's raucous fury, four speeding pillars exuded hallowed cants as they bore down on Karma.

Indifferent to the portentous maw threatening to consume him, Karma idly trailed the spatial pouch's ascent across the sunless sky.

He basked in its ephemeral beauty as it climbed, climbed.

Until it climbed no longer.

Earthly Domain.

For it had reached its zenith.

Karmic Collapse.

And now?

Now, it would fall.

Open.

It fled from the light above, descending to the darkness below.

A darkness that lived.

A darkness that englobed.

A darkness that destroyed.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

**

Within the darkness's stygian interior, contradictory to its outward appearance, the space boasted abundant illumination.

"Impossible ..."—"No-no-no-no..."—"Lies! Deceit!"—"Is this ...?"

Ample golden light spilled over the four immobilized monks, their bodies strung up in varying increments of their initial onslaught.

Karma stood at the group's center, his pale facade sodden by sanguine streams.

So this is my Domain ...

A tapestry of golden spindles reflected atop his arid eyes—each uncharacteristically bereft of revolving Ouroboroi. Most notable among the foreign panorama were four colossal cocoons, one for every hapless monk.

My spiritual energy is just ... gone—drained to the last drop. This. This is my limit—the crescendo of all that I am. What comes next is a measure of that which came before and, potentially, that which comes after.

Karma's trembling hand rose just barely above his shoulder in an open palm. The action, despite its apparent weakness, condemned the discordant monks to silence. Like pebbles thrashing against a singularity, their gazes were invariably drawn to Karma's splayed grasp. A shared mask dominated their harrowed aspects.

Horror.

Betraying an imperceptible smile, Karma closed his grip.

"Collapse."

What followed was akin to a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly.

But reversed.

"AAARGGHHHH!"

And screams.

So many screams.

**

The darkness receded as quickly as it came, leaving Karma's lone figure standing amid barren sandstone.

No corpses lay at his feet.

No blood, either.

Only four ownerless bamboo staffs.

Whoo.

An airy grey pouch landed upon Karma's awaiting palm, shortly succeeded by Anlîthëma's inquisitive transmission.

"What of the monks?"

"Gone."

"Gone, as in dead?"

"Gone, as in gone."

...

"Was that an Earthly Domain?" hesitantly asked Anlîthëma, doing little to hide his incredulity.

Mildly taken aback, Karma replied, "Yeah—why do you ask?"

...

"What is your current cultivation realm?"

"The fifth level of Qi Formation ..."

Sigh—"When do you think most cultivators get an Earthly Domain?"

"Probably—"

"Trick question, most cultivators don't get one at all!"

"Really? I got one from eating a shiny yellow rock. Oh! It was that Domain Catalyst you attempted to bargain in exchange for your life, remember?"

"I remember. I remember very clearly."

...

"As I was saying, a vast majority of cultivators not only fail to manifest an Earthly Domain, oftentimes, they haven't the slightest clue as to why. This can largely be attributed to the entry requirement: the soul."

"Oh."

...

"'Oh?' That's it? You misconstrued a Domain Catalyst as a shiny yellow rock, yet barely react when presented with one of—if not—the most elusive topics throughout the myriad realms?"

"If souls are so elusive, how come I have one incessantly blabbering in my spatial pouch?"

Nearly struck speechless, Anlîthëma bellowed, "You. Are. An. Exception!"

"Exceptionally handsome?"

"That's not what Penelope said."

"Touché."

**

Beside a waterlogged embankment, dozens of solemn voices reverberated, flooding the atmosphere with sacrosanct scripture:

"oṃ namo bhagavatyai ārya prajñāpāramitāyai! ārya-avalokiteśvaro bodhisattvo gambhīrāṃ prajñāpāramitā caryāṃ ..."

The monks responsible—hairless men in loose-fitting, burgundy robes—formed a circular congregation atop a bed of alluvial sediment. No deviation marred their ranks, from their identical tonal inflections to the flawless loti positions in which they sat.

"... sarva duḥkha praśamanaḥ, satyam amithyatāt. prajñāpāramitāyām ukto mantraḥ."

Soon, their intonations drummed their final beat. The silence presented an invitation, not for more silence, but for the haloed monk they circumscribed.

A transcendent voice answered their prayer.

"gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā."

As one, the monks resounded, "iti prajñāpāramitā-hṛdayam samāptam."

**

After a period of prolonged meditation, the haloed monk's ethereal pitch sundered the entombing quietude, "Brothers Suddhimati, Karnnika, Manasvi, and Sattvadhara have entered Buddha's embrace. Sarvamaṅgala."

"Sarvamaṅgala."

"I will now seek the Dharma's benevolent consult. Let our brethren find eternal peace. Sarvamaṅgala."

"Sarvamaṅgala."

The haloed monk disappeared under a curtain of boundless light. Within, the line brooking motion and stillness blurred as numerous afterimages engulfed the stationary monk.

"The Dharma has decreed their killers. Karma remains in balance. Peace is maintained."

"Forgive me, Doyen Tathāgata," whispered one of his perturbed brethren, "my worldly desires beseech me to ask: Who has the Dharma named?"

Doyen Tathāgata sighed, "Emptiness without compassion is Nihility without enlightenment; we all must succumb on our journey toward impermanence. Oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ."

"Oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ."

"The Dharma's verdict cited many names: Tathāgata, Suddhimati, Karnnika, Manasvi, and Sattvadhara were among the most heavily accused."

Hesitant murmurs quavered throughout the group of Cittamātra monks.

"Doyen, how can that be?" one shouted. "We know in our heart of hearts you did not slay them, nor would they harm one another, much less themselves!"

"I share your confusion, Brother, but the Dharma was clear—Karma was sown between me and their demise, no different than if I had participated in the massacre myself."

"But—"

"But the Dharma, like all worldly phenomena, is restricted in its candor. I understand that vengeance must be exacted, and the Dharma understands even more. In the absence of a culprit, it has conferred upon us a clue.

"Temporal Ore."