The man stood there for a moment longer, looking at the portrait as if he wanted to remember every detail.

Then he slowly turned away and walked deeper into the hall.

His footsteps were soft.

They echoed gently, but the sound felt distant, as if the hall itself was holding its breath.

After walking for some time, he stopped.

Without speaking, he lifted his hand and waved it lightly through the air.

A door appeared.

It did not creak or make any sound as it opened.

It simply parted, as if it had always been there.

The man stepped forward.

When he passed through, the world changed.

He was now standing in the middle of a vast garden.

As far as his eyes could see, there were flowers. No walls.

No paths. No buildings. Only flowers of every kind and color, spreading endlessly under a calm sky.

A soft breeze moved through the garden, making the petals sway gently, like a quiet sea.

The tenderness in his eyes slowly disappeared.

In its place came something lighter.

Something warm.

Joy.

He raised the bamboo flute to his lips.

His movements were calm and natural, as if he had done this countless times before.

Then he gently blew into it.

Music flowed out.

It was not loud. It did not force itself on the world.

It spread softly through the garden, touching every flower, every leaf, every breath of air.

An ordinary person who heard it would feel their heart slow down.

They would feel peaceful, yet restless at the same time.

They would not understand why.

The music changed again and again.

Sometimes it sounded happy, like laughter under the sun.

Sometimes it felt sad, like a quiet goodbye that was never spoken.

At times it carried deep longing, a wish that could never be fulfilled.

Then, in a single breath, all those feelings came together, blending into one steady flow.

Listening to it felt strange.

It was as if the music was holding the garden together.

As if every flower bloomed because of it.

As if everything existed because this sound allowed it to exist.

The man played on, his face calm, his eyes half-closed.

Although this music would be hard for anyone to understand, if Vivian were here, he would recognize it instantly.

It was the same kind of music once played by the woman.

She had used a veena, not a flute, but that did not matter.

In the end, the meaning behind both pieces was nearly the same.

There were only a few small differences between them.

If someone compared the two, they would say the woman's music was more complex, with more layers and deeper turns.

Yet the final result was the same.

It was like two people solving the same problem in different ways and still reaching the same answer.

The man continued to play for a while longer.

Then, slowly, he lowered the flute from his lips.

The sound faded into the garden, leaving only the soft movement of flowers in the wind.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Interesting," he said quietly.

His gaze slowly shifted toward the open sky.

For a moment, his eyes shone, as if a distant light had touched them.

He spoke softly, almost to himself.

"So you are determined this time?"

A hint of old memories passed across his face.

The man took a step forward and looked ahead again.

A quiet laugh escaped him.

"Good. Good," he murmured. "I was wondering if this would be the last."

He took another step and lifted his hand.

With a simple wave, a screen appeared in front of him.

It was large and floating in the air.

At first, it was completely blurry, like fog trapped behind glass.

He waved his hand once more.

The screen began to shake.

The image on it tried to form, trembling again and again, but nothing clear appeared.

Only shifting shadows and unstable shapes filled the surface.

The man watched it for a moment.

Then he smiled.

"I'm not going to interrupt," he said calmly.

The screen continued to wobble, as if something was struggling to be born, while the man stood there in silence, waiting.

After waiting for a while, the screen shook one last time. Then, at last, an image appeared.

It showed a forest.

It was daytime. Sunlight filtered down through tall trees, and the air looked calm and warm.

When the man saw this, his eyes brightened.

He waved his hand again, and the image slowly grew clearer and slightly smaller, as

if he was focusing on one point.

"There…" he murmured.

A clear scene formed before his eyes.

Under a large Bot tree, a woman was sitting.

She sat on top of a blooming lotus flower.

Her long black hair flowed freely down her back.

Her left leg touched the ground, while her right leg was folded calmly beneath her.

In her hands, she held a veena and played it with ease, her movements smooth and natural.

Near her left foot stood a swan.

The swan had raised its neck high, and its gaze passed through the screen, meeting the man's eyes directly.

The man looked back at the swan.

There was no surprise on his face.

No emotion at all. He simply smiled, gentle and quiet.

Seeing the swan, the woman smiled as well.

She lowered one hand and softly touched the swan's head.

Even as she did this, the sound of the veena did not stop.

Then, something strange yet natural happened.

Another pair of hands appeared from her body.

These hands continued to play the veena without pause, while the first hand slowly caressed the swan.

The music remained steady and calm.

Under her touch, the swan slowly relaxed.

Its raised neck lowered, and it gently rested its head on the ground.

Its breathing became slow and peaceful.

The forest stayed silent, as if even the wind did not dare disturb the moment.

"It appears that this will be the last," the man said softly as his gaze settled on the woman.

The woman's eyes met his.

They were deep, like a bottomless abyss, yet at the same time they felt clear, as if anyone could look into them without fear.

She did not speak.

Her focus never left the veena, and her fingers continued to move across its strings with calm care.

Even without words, the man understood.

He let out a quiet chuckle.

"It seems to me that this time, either you win," he said, smiling faintly, "or I finally get what I wish for. Wouldn't you agree?"

There was still no answer.

The woman did not even look away from her music.

The man did not seem disappointed.

He slowly shifted his gaze away from her, toward another part of the forest.

Not far from the Bot tree, there was another man.

He sat cross-legged on the ground, his back straight, his hands resting calmly on his thighs.

His eyes were closed, as if he was deep in meditation.

At first glance, he looked ordinary.

But the longer one looked, the more unsettling it became.

There were many signs that he had been sitting there for a very long time.

Yet his appearance had not changed at all.

His hair was neat. His clothes were clean and well arranged.

His skin showed no sign of aging, no sign of decay.

Time had clearly passed, but it had not touched him.

Only the ground spoke of it.

Around him, no weeds grew.

The earth was bare and clean, as if his presence alone had kept everything still.

Dust had settled, seasons had passed, yet the space around his body remained untouched.

The man watching him narrowed his eyes slightly.

A quiet smile stayed on his face.

The forest remained silent, holding its breath, as three figures existed together in a moment that felt both endless and close to an end.

After some time passed, the man spoke again.

"He is close," he said. Then he paused. His eyes turned cold as he continued, "but nowhere near completion…"

"You don't need to worry."

For the first time, the woman spoke.

Her voice was soft, almost gentle.

Yet the moment her words entered the man's mind, it felt like a thousand thunderclaps crashing at once.

The air seemed to shake. The man was forced to step back several times.

That feeling would have crushed anyone else.

But the man did not panic.

His face showed none of the fear or pain a normal person would show.

Instead, there was something else in his eyes.

Excitement.

The woman continued speaking, her tone calm and steady.

"You were right. This will be the last," she said.

"However, it will not end in the result you are hoping for."

Her gaze remained on the veena, her fingers never stopping.

The forest grew heavier, as if the world itself had listened and understood.

"And no matter what you do," she paused as her gaze shifted towards the man and said with certainty, "you will not be able to break the law of nature."

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