The cool blue light of the mobile screen painted stark shadows across Ayush's face, each pixel a silent witness to his simmering rage. The final lines of *Douluo Dalu 2* scrolled into oblivion, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste.
"So that's it?" he muttered, his voice a low growl. "Tang San, the all-powerful God King, gets his perfect ending, while Huo Yuhao is left to rot on a leash?"
He slammed the phone onto his bed, the soft thump echoing the hollowness in his chest. Images flashed behind his eyes: Tang Wutong's fractured soul, Wang Qiu'er's desperate sacrifice, the endless manipulations. A father's cruelty masquerading as divine foresight, all to control his son-in-law, to make Hui Haoxu his obedient dog. The sheer, unadulterated injustice of it clawed at his throat.
"This isn't fate," Ayush hissed, his hands clenching into tight fists. "This is rigged. This is a script written by a tyrant."
A profound sense of wrongness radiated from him, a silent scream against the cosmic unfairness. Unseen, unheard, an anomaly in the vast tapestry of the galaxy stirred. A black book, a rectangular absence where light bent and died, drifted past Surya's fiery embrace and Chandra's tranquil coolness. It turned, drawn by the unique frequency of Ayush's defiant spirit, towards Prithvi.
It pierced the atmosphere as if it were smoke, descended through concrete and steel, and settled silently above Ayush's bowed head. Then, like ink poured into water, it flowed into his forehead. A sudden, profound chill bloomed at the back of his skull, then faded.
"Too much screen time," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. His mother's call from downstairs, "Ayush, khana thanda ho raha hai! Phone rakho, neeche aao!" broke his reverie.
"Aa raha hoon!" he called back, stuffing his phone into his pocket. He washed his hands, ate his dal and rice, the mundane routine a temporary anchor against the swirling vortex of his thoughts. Sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape, only dreams of golden chains and cold, calculating eyes.
At midnight, as the city slept, the Black Book stirred within Ayush's nascent Sea of Consciousness. With a soft, soundless sigh, its cover opened. From Ayush's sleeping form, his soul emerged, a shimmering outline carrying the essence of his life, his memories, and the burning ember of his indignation. The Book drank this light, preserving it on a new, white page.
Its task on Prithvi complete, the Black Book ascended, leaving Ayush's body in a deep, dreamless slumber. It tore a rent in reality, plunging into the timeless Void. There, a wounded fragment of divine consciousness, an echo of a future Huo Yuhao, latched onto the Book. This future God-King, shattered by his final war against Tang San, poured his remaining knowledge and treasures into the Book's depths.
The Book then targeted its true destination: the Douluo Continent, a parallel world where a new story was about to unfold. It found the pregnant Huo Yun'er, and within her womb, the nascent soul of the child who would be named Huo Yuhao. The Book carefully placed Ayush's soul into the unborn child, sealing Ayush's specific memories but leaving his core essence intact. Within the child's developing soul sea, it deposited the future Huo Yuhao's legacy: the Soul Carving Knife, 55 pieces of ten-thousand-year Frozen Marrow, the Ten-Thousand-Year Ice Lotus, the Dragon God's remnant soul, the bones and souls of the Dragon God's sons, the unique waters and twin dragon souls from the Yin-Yang Love Eyes, and the Divine Catalog.
The future Huo Yuhao's fragment, its task complete, dissolved into the world's energy. The Black Book closed, its purpose fulfilled, leaving behind a boy who would be born with an iron-strong foundation, a mind once filled with a reader's rage, and a destiny utterly unbound.