Han Ye settled onto the worn floor of the Crafting Hall, the familiar scent of dust and forgotten tools a comforting presence. With a practiced ease, he closed his eyes and emptied his mind. Thoughts, anxieties, the worries of the day – all faded away, replaced by a profound sense of serenity. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself no longer in the dimly lit hall but bathed in the warm glow of a cloudless sky. Lush green grass stretched out before him, an endless expanse that met the horizon without a single tree or landmark to disrupt the view.

This, Han Ye knew, was no ordinary meadow. It wasn't real, but it wasn't fake either. It was his soulscape, a reflection of his own inner world manifested within the Insight Realm. The second stage of cultivation marked the point where a cultivator's journey transcended the physical and touched upon the very essence of their being – their soul. That was why only after passing the Insight realm could a person truly be called a cultivator.

The Insight Realm itself comprised three distinct stages: sensing the soul, shaping the soul, and integrating the soul. The first two stages were relatively straightforward. Han Ye had already honed his ability to sense his soul, a shimmering wisp of energy nestled deep within his core. Shaping the soul involved manipulating and strengthening this essence, a process akin to molding clay into a desired form.

The true challenge lies in the final stage – integration. Here, the cultivator embarked on a perilous journey of self-discovery, venturing into the uncharted territories of their own soul. Unlike the physical realm, governed by set rules and boundaries, the soul was a vast and shifting landscape, a boundless ocean of emotions, memories, and subconscious desires. Exploring it was akin to navigating a dense fog, the path constantly obscured, the destination perpetually out of reach.

Han Ye had read in a book that the size and complexity of the soul were directly correlated to a cultivator's previous lives and his character. But there was no proof of that.

Some souls were like tranquil ponds, offering a clear and limited view. Others, like Han Ye's, resembled vast, churning oceans, brimming with hidden depths and unexplored currents. There was also a rumor that the more expansive the soul, the greater the potential for growth, but also the greater the risk of getting lost in its labyrinthine corridors.

This was the reason most cultivators found their progress stagnating at this stage. Integration wasn't just about exploration; it was about achieving a state of enlightenment, of understanding and reconciling the disparate fragments that made up their being. Fear, anger, love, ambition – these emotions swirled within the soul, each vying for dominance. To truly integrate meant harmonizing these disparate forces, forging a cohesive whole from the chaos within.

'Cultivation isn't just a journey to immortality, of living longer. It is also a journey to become something more. To give validation to your existence.'

That was what he had been taught. Though Han Ye did not completely agree with those words.

As Han Ye sat in his soulscape, the vastness of it never ceased to both awe and intimidate him. He wondered if everyone's soul exploration was this magical. He could feel the faint tremors of his emotions, distant echoes beneath the surface calm. A deep well of curiosity stirred from within him. It pushed him, as always, to explore more. Thrill and ecstasy coursed through him, pulsed within him, to know, to know, his own soul.

Taking a deep breath, Han Ye rose to his feet. The boundless green expanse stretched out before him, an invitation and a challenge. One step at a time, He began to walk. He had no map, no guide, only the faint echo of his own intuition. The journey into the Insight Realm had begun again.

And Han Ye was smiling, maniacally.

As always.

* * * * * *

A disquiet settled over Han Ye as he delved into his soulscape. It wasn't the usual sense of serene emptiness nor of the thrill of self-discovery, but a prickling unease that snaked its way up his spine.

Something was wrong.

This process was supposed to be so addicting that every moment spent in reality was frustrating. Cultivators in the Insight Realm became reclusive and irritable just so that they could feel more of the ecstasy of knowing their own soul. And although Han Ye was so exceptional in controlling his addiction in the real world that he still maintained a healthy social life unlike his peers of the same realm, this was different.

The feelings coursing through him were gone. They just vanished. It was as if his soul didn't feel his own anymore.

The once vibrant green expanse seemed a shade duller, the clear sky tinged with an ominous grey. This wasn't the first time he'd explored the swirling mists of his own being, searching for the path to enlightenment. The elders had been frustratingly vague about the process, muttering about a unique journey for each soul. But there was one constant – a faint sense of how long it might take. During his last foray, the timer had ticked steadily, granting him a reassuring two years before reaching the threshold of the next realm.

Now, that comforting presence was gone. A hollowness echoed where the timer used to be, a chilling silence that sent a jolt of terror through him. Panic clawed at his throat, icy and constricting. His vision narrowed, the lush green expanse of his soulscape warping into a grotesque parody of itself. The once clear sky churned with dark, swirling clouds, casting an oppressive gloom over the land. Fog emerged out of nowhere, obscuring his sight.

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Han Ye stopped. Something strange was happening to this place, and by extension, to his soul. Now, it was time to make a decision.

'Should I leave, or keep going?'

Han Ye considered his choices and finally decided to keep going.

'I can leave whenever I want anyway, so let's see what is causing this anomaly.'

He didn't really think whatever was happening was dangerous. After all, his soul would have thrown his consciousness out into reality the moment it sensed anything remotely dangerous. That was the norm.

Unfortunately, his confidence shattered in moments.

Up ahead, veiled by the fog, sitting on a boulder, was definitely the figure of a human. That was surely--- a lie. His soul shouted. Impossible Impossible. It was an illusion, a hallucination. The elders had said this, meeting someone inside a soulspace was-

"Impossible."

Han Ye willed to leave with full force. Nothing. He requested, begged his own soul to push him out, as it should have had with a single thought.

Nothing happened.

Panic surged through Han Ye, stripping him of his usual calm. His legs, which had moved with purpose moments ago, now pumped with a desperate, frantic energy. The air around him seemed to thicken, his breaths coming in ragged gasps that did little to alleviate the suffocating dread squeezing his chest. The ground beneath his feet turned treacherous, twisting and morphing into tangled roots and jagged rocks that threatened to trip him at every turn.

Before he even realized it, he was running.

As fast as he could, as far as he could, he ran. The soulscape changed with every turn, from a misty clearing to a forest and then a mountain.

But the man's image, once blurry, began to sharpen with horrifying clarity. Han Ye could feel it, even if he wasn't looking back. So he ran and ran until he realized that everything around him had become constant.

The pounding in his heart drowned out all other sounds, a frantic drumbeat echoing the terror that consumed him. Every fiber of his being screamed to escape, to find some refuge from this monstrous apparition that had invaded his own sanctuary. Yet, the path stretched endlessly before him, the same taunting landscape repeating in a maddening loop.

He was trapped. Trapped in his own soul, taunted by a being that defied all logic, all understanding. The man's relentless pursuit stoked the flames of fear into an inferno. His breaths became shallow, his vision blurring at the edges as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. But the terrifying idea of stopping, of facing the man directly, spurred him on.

He pushed himself further, muscles burning, lungs screaming. The once vibrant green of his soulscape was now a desolate wasteland. The very essence of his being felt violated, exposed to a force he couldn't comprehend, couldn't control. A whimper escaped his throat, a pathetic sound that only amplified his terror.

Why? Why was he feeling so much terror, so much fear? Why was there a person inside his soul? Why was this happening to him?

Han Ye didn't understand.

And by the time he finally formed these coherent thoughts, he realized that he could no longer move. His legs had been jammed in place.

???: "Sorry about that"

A voice whispered from behind him, sending a fresh jolt of terror down Han Ye's spine. The man's words were like sandpaper against raw flesh, a grating intrusion into the fragile silence of his soul.

???: "I know interaction at this phase in your soul-searching must be damaging your consciousness,"

the voice continued, in a strange mix of apology and amusement.

???: "And although you are nowhere near ready to know everything yet, understand that due to some fool's planning, we have to speed things up."

Han Ye wanted to scream, to lash out at the enigmatic figure. But his throat remained locked, his body frozen in a state of utter terror. The world around him seemed to dissolve, the colors bleeding away, replaced by a suffocating fog.

???: "I suppose any more than this and your consciousness will burst," the man sighed "Alright, this is the most I could pass on."

'Pas...s...... on...... Wh..at.... ?'

Even Han Ye's thoughts were becoming fragmented, his internal monologue reduced to a series of disjointed questions. At the very edge of his awareness, he felt a faint touch on his back, a sensation so warm, so foreign amidst the chilling dread that had consumed him.

He forced his eyes open, a sliver of awareness flickering back to life. Looking down, he saw... a sword. But this wasn't just any sword. It was embedded in his chest, the hilt protruding from his body at a grotesque angle. A wave of nausea washed over him, his vision blurring at the edges.

'Warm... it is so warm...'

This last thought was the only coherent notion left before darkness swallowed him whole.

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A jolt of adrenaline ripped Han Ye from the suffocating darkness. He sat up with a gasp, heart hammering against his ribs. Disoriented, he scanned his surroundings. The familiar setting of his cramped room in the outer disciple quarters came into view – the worn wooden furniture, the faded rug on the floor, the window cracked open, letting in a cool breeze that ruffled his hair.

'Where?' The question echoed in his mind.

He remembered sweeping the dusty floor of the Crafting Hall. Then, meditation. Hadn't he been meditating? Memories flickered, fragments of a conversation... an unsettling voice, a sense of urgency...

A groan escaped his lips as a throbbing pain erupted in his head. Images washed over him in a disjointed sequence – waking up, heading to the sect hall... registering for the inner sect... a duel? A duel that caused a stir?

Panic clawed its way up his throat.

Han Ye: "Wait! What day is it?"

he cried out, scrambling off the bed. The fragmented memories offered him no clear answer. He focused, trying to piece together the timeline. Four facts emerged from the hazy fog of confusion.

First, there was a complete blackout of his last soul exploration and the events that followed. Second, a week had somehow passed since then. Third, he was apparently now on the cusp of the Essence Realm, a level he shouldn't have reached for at least another two years. And fourth, he had somehow registered for the inner sect and even participated in a duel, something that went completely against his usual reserved nature.

Han Ye: "Wh-What the hell!"

The words exploded from his lips unprompted. The amnesia, the sudden advancement, the unexplained duel – it was all too much to process. He was numb with shock, the enormity of the situation not sinking in yet.

But the numbness wouldn't last. The moment the situation sunk in, a surge of adrenaline shot through him, replacing shock with panic. Gritting his teeth, Han Ye bolted out of his room, his mind racing with questions, his steps echoing through the quiet halls as he headed towards the elders' quarters.