On 5 May 2019, the sixth month ended.
That morning, the family finished their last cycle: Kamal's shirt damp with sweat, Neelam's breathing steady despite the burn in her muscles, Sanya's cheeks flushed from running and footwork.
Nearby, Solar Clone and Sacral Clone completed the same sequence, polishing the mortal layer beneath their already inhuman bodies. Only Root Clone lagged behind; he had been "born" later and had started the sutra late, so his count of full months had not yet reached six.
The difference showed immediately.
As soon as the final set ended, something subtle shifted.
Until now, their presence had felt strong but scattered—like a bonfire throwing sparks in every direction. Determination, fatigue, stray worries, and hope all leaked outward, making their aura broad but thin.
Now, that scattered fire drew inward.
Their breathing unconsciously synchronised into a slow, even rhythm. Shoulders relaxed and dropped; spines straightened without effort. Tiny restless movements—tapping fingers, shifting weight, darting glances—faded away. To an ordinary observer, it just looked like the family suddenly standing very still and very present.
To the clones' Essence perception, it was far more dramatic.
Each person's aura, previously a loose mist, began to **contract** around them, tightening like a cloak pulled close. The excess turbulence smoothed out, and the remaining pressure started to spiral gently toward a point between the eyebrows.
- A thin ring of presence wrapped around each body.
- That ring squeezed inward.
- Lines of focused intent rose along the spine and neck and gathered at the brow.
At that spot—just above the nose bridge, slightly below the forehead centre—the spiralling aura met itself and formed a tiny whirlpool. For a heartbeat, the whirlpool spun, compressing every bit of scattered effort, every repeated breath, every endured ache of the last six months into a single point.
Then it stamped itself into place.
A faint, almost transparent symbol appeared on each of their foreheads—not a glowing tattoo, but a shadow‑bright mark that only those with Essence perception could clearly see:
- a small circle, representing a completed mortal foundation,
- with three short strokes pointing inward, for body, breath, and heart united toward one centre.
As the symbol took shape, their aura stopped expanding outward and instead became dense and quiet, like deep water that hid its depth. The air around them felt a little heavier, their gazes a touch more penetrating. Even without saying a word, each of them now gave off the calm pressure of someone who would not collapse at the first push.
Solar Clone nodded in satisfaction. Sacral Clone felt their emotions and bodies stabilise in ways medicine alone could never achieve.
From that day on, Kamal, Neelam, Sanya, and the two older clones all carried the Mortal Foundation Mark on their brows.
They did not stop practicing the Mortal Foundation Sutra; they understood this mark was only the first benefit, not the end.
The scripture was a ladder that kept rising, and they had no intention of stepping off after only one rung.
Another quiet month slipped by.
By 7 june 2019, life in Dark Haven looked peaceful on the surface, but beneath it, numbers and power had climbed to absurd heights.
******
Solar Clone had already bought the Eleventh Elite Pass , Twelfth Elite Pass and thirteenth Elite pass on 25 March, 27 April and 26 May.
With his main ID, Returner, and several alternate accounts, he had become an undisputed top player in Free Fire's global rankings. His main account sat at Level 90, while his alts rested at 82, 83, and 70, all crowding the top of the leaderboard.
His gameplay had turned into more than just a hobby. As his skill and creativity leaked into highlight videos, his Free Fire channel crossed one million subscribers, every upload easily drawing millions of views and a flood of likes.
Ad revenue, sponsorships, and stream donations together, he hadn't touch them a bit but he still brought in nearly 100 lakhrupees, an amount that would have stunned his past mortal self.
But the frightening part wasn't YouTube.
It was trading.
In a single year, his closed positions alone had yielded around 3 crore rupees, and that figure did not even include his still‑open trades. If he counted those unrealised gains, the total would look even more monstrous.
On the cultivation side, limited materials placed a ceiling on his forging. Even so, Solar Clone had already crafted multiple weapons and items optimised for Stage 2cultivators, pushing sharpness, durability, and energy‑conduction to the edge of what current resources allowed.
For now, that level was enough; once Ankit climbed higher and new materials were secured, designs for advanced gear were ready to be upgraded.
He had also completed three large‑scale formation‑weapons on the level of the Nav‑Kavach Astra Vyuha. They remained uninstalled.
Most satisfying of all, Solar's cow companion, guided by Primal Harmony Ascendancy, had quietly stepped into Substage 1 of its path and already finished half that substage. Its aura was thicker, its eyes clearer; each lazy chew of grass hid the strength of a living battering ram and a growing sacred beast.