Melon Encounters

Quill's PoV:

I blink, and the world around me shifts, blurring at the edges. The bustling café fades into a hazy backdrop, faceless figures moving in slow motion. Only Lisa, sitting across from me, remains in sharp focus.

"Have you decided?" Her voice cuts through the dreamlike haze, tinged with annoyance.

I hesitate, the coffee cup warm in my hands. "This is not a good idea..." The words feel heavy on my tongue. "What are you going to do if..." My sentence trails off, lost in the surreal atmosphere.

"Shut up already," Lisa snaps, her frustration palpable. "You are dying..." The statement hangs in the air, undeniable and final.

I meet her gaze, seeing the determination in her eyes. "I refuse to let my last family in this world die without even trying."

Time seems to stretch as I consider her words. The background noise fades away, leaving only the two of us in this moment.

"I agree," I finally say, the words barely above a whisper. Despite our distance, she's still my sister. And really, what choice do I have?

I straighten up, my voice gaining strength. "But I will make it clear right now," I add, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Lisa. "I will pay you back!"

"Yeah yeah," she adds with exasperation and downs her coffee. The familiar gesture brings a faint smile to my lips, reminiscent of countless mornings shared over steaming mugs.

Lisa glances at her watch, her brow furrowing. "Need to go back to work," she says, gathering her things. She pauses, fixing me with a stern look. "Finish your coffee and go to Ryan."

Ryan... My doctor and cousin. Another person I owe so much to. The thought of him brings a mix of gratitude and guilt. With Lisa's help, I will most likely have the final surgery next month. After that, everything will be in God's hands.

I take a sip of my lukewarm coffee, the bitter taste matching my mood.

"Thank you," I say, my head low. The words feel inadequate, barely scratching the surface of my gratitude. I can't bring myself to meet Lisa's eyes, afraid of the emotion I might see there.

I stare at the dregs of my coffee, the cup now cold in my hands. The café's ambient noise fades into the background as soft jazz plays from hidden speakers. Something keeps me rooted to my seat, a nagging feeling I can't shake.

My eyes drift to the TV mounted on the wall. The headline flashes across the screen: "Another Hundred Disappeared. No Progress Made."

I check my phone, the date glaring back at me: June 2nd. Last night was the 1st. A chill runs down my spine as I remember the significance.

For seven years, this phenomenon has gripped the world. One hundred random people vanishing without a trace on the first of every month. No pattern, no warning, no explanation.

The memory of that fateful night seven years ago resurfaces. A Hollywood A-lister and a prominent politician - both gone. Vanished from their heavily secured homes, leaving authorities baffled and the public in a frenzy.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. It's a bizarre occurrence, sure, but it has nothing to do with me. I'm just a guy with health problems, struggling to make ends meet.

I blink, trying to focus through the haze of pain. The world spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes, before dissolving into blinding light. Then, darkness.

My eyes flutter open, greeted by unfamiliar surroundings. The room is dim, filled with strange silhouettes I can't quite place. Confusion gives way to realization as my mind clears.

A dream. One I haven't experienced in over seven decades. The memory of my former life, so distant now, yet still etched in my consciousness.

I reflect on the significance of this dream. Perhaps it's fitting to remember one's beginnings, especially after what I've just accomplished. The destruction of the prison, the celestial phenomenon that allowed countless cultivators to ascend. A smile tugs at my lips, pride mingling with exhaustion.

My body protests as I attempt to move. Every muscle aches, and my Qi feels chaotic, scattered. I close my eyes, focusing inward. Slowly, I draw the dispersed energy back to my core, piecing it together like a puzzle.

Wait. Something's different. My eyes snap open as I process this new sensation. A core? I didn't have one before, but now...

Did I break through right before losing consciousness? The events leading up to my collapse are hazy, but it's possible. The enormity of what I've achieved hits me. After 116 years of cultivation, I've finally become a true Core Formation Elder.

I blink, trying to clear the fog from my mind. The softness beneath my head is comforting, and I instinctively try to adjust the pillow. But something feels off.

"Lala?" I call out, my voice still groggy.

"I'm here teacher," she answers, her tone as cold as ever.

A wave of relief washes over me. Of course she'd be by my side. I wish she'd call me 'dad' just once, but I'll take what I can get.

As I relax, a nagging feeling of incongruity creeps in. I touch the 'pillow' again, noting its fluffiness and pleasant texture, but also its unusual thickness.

"How long have I been asleep for?" I ask, unable to hide the worry in my voice.

"Eight months, teacher," Lala replies.

Eight months. For a cultivator, it's not an eternity, but it's still significant. I try to rationalize it as a small price for my recent breakthrough.

"You've finally managed to put some meat on your bones in the past eight months, Lala," I say, burying my face in the 'pillow'.

I can't help but feel a pang of guilt. Despite her access to the sect's resources, Lala's body has always been frail. Her cultivation progress is slow and difficult at best, and I know it's largely my fault. I'm a terrible father, even if she's never blamed me for what happened.

"My weight is the same, teacher," she adds, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Alarm bells ring in my head. Something's very wrong. Ignoring my body's protests, I leap to my feet.

There, standing before me with a twisted smile, is Dorito. In his left hand, he holds a pulsing memory orb.

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to lash out at Dorito. His smug grin makes my blood boil, but I force myself to stay calm. There's too much at stake here.

"What do you want?" I ask, keeping my voice level despite the panic rising in my chest. If those images get out, my reputation will be in tatters. And if they reach Murmur... I shudder at the thought. My leverage over her would evaporate in an instant.

Dorito's eyes gleam with malicious delight. "There's nothing in the Nine Heavens you could offer me," he declares with finality. "Consider this revenge for..."

His voice fades into background noise as my mind races, searching for a solution. There's one thing that might work, but the very thought of it makes my skin crawl. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures.

"...and the time when you teleported my naked self into that dragon's cave while they were mating, and the time when..." Dorito continues, listing off my past transgressions.

I cut him off mid-rant. "Oh, don't be like that, Elder Soul. I'm sure we can come to an agreement. Isn't that right, Elder Soul?" I emphasize his title, hoping he'll catch my drift.

Dorito pauses, his brow furrowing as he considers my words. I can almost see the gears turning in his head as he weighs his options. After a moment of hesitation, he gives a slow nod.

"Very well," he says, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "I will keep the orb for one extra decade, just to make sure." He pats his chest pocket, where the memory orb rests safely.

I force a grateful smile onto my face. "Thank you, Elder Soul. I knew you would understand, Elder Soul."

I take a deep breath, steadying myself after the encounter with Dorito. Crisis averted, for now at least. But as I turn my attention to my surroundings, a chill runs down my spine.

My divine sense stretches out, probing the unfamiliar space. It doesn't reach far, but what I do sense leaves me reeling. This... this can't be right.

Metallic walls hum with electricity, a sound I haven't heard in over a century. It's a faint, persistent buzz that sets my teeth on edge, reminding me of a world I thought I'd left behind forever. Overhead, harsh white light floods the room from panels in the ceiling, so bright and sterile it makes my eyes water.

In the corner, a hologram flickers to life, advertising something in a language I can't decipher. The characters look vaguely familiar, teasing at the edges of my memory, but they dance just beyond the edge of recognition, like a half-forgotten dream.

I stumble towards a small window, my legs unsteady beneath me. Outside, my breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, I forget how to exhale. Flying vehicles, sleek and silent, weave through towering skyscrapers that stretch impossibly high into the smog-choked sky. Neon signs flash in a dizzying array of colors, bathing the bustling city in an otherworldly glow.

My mind races, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. Have I somehow been transported back to Earth? But no, this isn't the Earth I remember. This is something... more. More advanced, more alien.

I press my hand against the cool glass, half expecting it to dissolve like a mirage. But it remains solid, unyielding. This is real. Somehow, impossibly, this is real.

I press my face closer to the window, my breath fogging the glass as I try to process the alien landscape before me. My gaze drifts down to the streets below, where thousands of beings move in a chaotic dance. Instinctively, I reach out with my divine sense, focusing on a random individual.

The moment I perceive their face, I recoil in shock. Gray skin stretches over an insectoid visage, six milky white eyes staring blankly ahead. Four arms sway in fluid motion as the creature walks on two legs. Curiosity overcoming my initial revulsion, I probe deeper, only to find my confusion mounting. Where a heart should be, there's nothing. Lungs? Missing. But nestled within the bizarre anatomy are three distinct stomachs.

I tear my gaze away, looking up at the sky. Three enormous moons hang there, alien and imposing. The sight confirms what I've already begun to suspect: this is neither Earth nor the cultivation world I've called home for over a century.

The realization should be earth-shattering, but somehow, it makes a twisted kind of sense. After all I've seen and done, why should I be surprised by one more impossibility?

I take a deep breath, steadying myself against the window frame. A hand lands on my shoulder, and I turn to see Elder Soul standing beside me, his expression uncharacteristically sympathetic.

"Take it easy," he says, his voice oddly gentle. "I was just as surprised the first time as you are now."

"Where are the others?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady despite the tremor I feel in my chest.

"Gone," Soul answers, as if that single word explains everything. His round face beams with pride as he adds, "I stayed behind to keep you safe!"

I stare at him, incredulous. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken questions. After a few seconds, Fatty's smile falters, and he lets out a resigned sigh.

"For you," he mumbles, reaching into another one of his seemingly endless pockets. He pulls out a memory orb, its surface swirling with muted colors, and holds it out to me.

I take the orb, its weight familiar in my hand. As I look at Fatty's expectant face, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and skepticism. The idea that this man, who has been a thorn in my side for so long, would voluntarily stay behind to protect me is laughable. No, this has to be an order Grandpa.

I take the orb and pinch it between my thumb and index finger. Injecting a bit of Qi into it, my mind is sucked inside.

Out of the sudden, I'm back to the Twin Melon Peaks. A recreation, obviously, but a pretty detailed one. A heavy mist covers everything. From the distance, walking through the mist, a silhouette makes its way towards me.

There is no need to wonder who it is... In the whole sect, away from me, the only one that has a twisted sense of humor and likes to show off is without a doubt Grandpa.

Just as predicted, the Dusk Blade appears before me, his body covered in a pure white robe and layers upon layers of Qi. My eyes are already rolling in my head, so tired of his nonsense.

'Smack' his palm seems to teleport as I get hit on top of the head. "Don't roll your eyes at me!"

The fact he predicts I would roll my eyes at his nonsense shows how well he knows me. I can't help but smile.

"And now you're smiling like an idiot" he adds, his voice echoing through the misty landscape.

Am... Am I really this predictable? I ask myself in my head, feeling a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

"Yes you are!" he says, with a smug look on his face that only Grandpa can pull off.

"Damn it!" I can't help but swear.

'Smack' another slap hits me. "Language!"

I rub my head, wincing at the sting. Grandpa's disciplinary methods haven't changed a bit, even in this memory realm. A few long seconds pass as I try to compose myself, determined not to give him another reason to strike me.

'Smack' another palm hits me even harder.

"Ha! Didn't even say anything this time, old codger!" I announce with a triumphant tone, unable to resist the urge to gloat.

'Smack' another one hits me, this time with qi infused, which sends me stumbling backwards.

"This and the last one are for trying to outsmart your Grandpa!" he says, giving me a toothy grin.

Time passes slowly. The Grand Elder's ghost just stays there unmoving.

After about a minute, he finally moves, gesturing grandly, "What? I'm not a prophet. This is the extent at which I can predict your actions." He says with a bit of exasperation, "For now" he adds and grins once more.

"Anyway, listen because things are a bit weird," he continues, getting serious.

Well, this is a good sign at least. Grandpa said that things are weird. Not dangerous, just weird. And that is good. Weird I can deal with. As long as it's not immediate danger, everything is fine.

********

Elder Soul's PoV:

Time crawls by as I stand on the sofa, munching on apple slices. Lala sits nearby, engrossed in her pad. By the window, that insufferable brat remains trapped within the memory orb.

This world we stumbled into surpasses my wildest imagination. I expected immortals, Gods, and spirits. Instead, we're surrounded by bizarre races, mortals trespassing into realms only Gods should attain, and an overwhelming deluge of knowledge.

I never realized how ignorant I was until I acquired my first pad and delved into this world's vast library. The sheer volume of information is staggering, humbling even someone of my stature.

As for immortals... it seems we're a dying breed, nearly wiped out during The Fall. If history is to be believed, we brought this upon ourselves. Immortals in this world were truly despicable, enslaving mortals, hoarding resources, and suppressing knowledge. That is, until a race rose up, not through cultivation, but through technology.

What followed was a protracted war. Against all odds, the ants toppled the Gods and seized control. Now, immortals are nothing more than legends, whispered about in hushed tones and dismissed as myths.

I can't help but feel a twinge of bitterness. All that power, all that prestige, reduced to mere fairy tales. Yet, as I gaze at the bustling alien city outside, I can't deny the impressive feats these mortal races have achieved without the crutch of immortality.

I munch on another apple slice, savoring the tart sweetness as I reflect on the events of the past eight months. The memory of that pivotal meeting with the sect leaders still feels fresh in my mind.

The Grand Elder's words echo in my ears: "We must lay low, blend in. At least for a couple centuries." His usually jovial face was uncharacteristically serious as he emphasized the need for caution. "Even the mightiest immortals of this world fell to the power of technology. We'd be fools to think we could fare better."

I snort, remembering the mix of disbelief and resignation on the faces of the other sect leaders. It's not easy for cultivators, used to flaunting their power, to suddenly play the role of meek observers.

But it wasn't all doom and gloom. This new world, free from the constraints of our broken realm, has brought unexpected benefits. Our cultivation speeds have skyrocketed, increasing a thousandfold. Those who were on the brink of breakthrough have soared past their limits. Even the Sect Master and the Grand Elder, already formidable in their own right, have ascended to become true Earth Immortals.

I feel a twinge of envy at that thought. My own progress, while impressive, hasn't quite reached those lofty heights. Still, I console myself with the knowledge that I'm closer than ever to my goals.

But with every silver lining comes a cloud. In this case, it's the scarcity of Qi. After eons without immortals, the Qi of this world has become one with the universe, making it harder for us to harness. We can still gather enough for our needs, but gone are the days of effortless replenishment through meditation.

As I pop the last apple slice into my mouth, I can't help but chuckle at the irony. We've ascended beyond our wildest dreams, only to find ourselves more constrained than ever before.

But that is life.

Suddenly, Quill wakes up from his dream, rushes towards me, picking me up by my tunic and lifting me. His eyes seem like two abysses that give even me chills. He is obviously not in his right mind.

I gulp, feeling the weight of his gaze boring into me. Despite my considerable bulk, Quill lifts me with ease, his fingers digging into the fabric of my tunic. I can feel the barely contained fury radiating off him in waves.

Discovering everything that happened in the past 8 months, I'm certain he has 100 questions. And I prepared to answer all of them.

"What the hell do you mean we are broke?" he asks in a rushed manner.

Damn… Lost the bet. I was certain he would ask about the increase in cultivation first. But I guess, despite giving the impression she is cold towards her father, Lala truly knows him best.

Picking up one of the rings on my fingers, I throw it towards Lala who catches it and without any decorum puts it on her finger. A bet is a bet and I'm a man of honor, if I dare to say so myself.

I clear my throat, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite dangling from Quill's grip. "Well, you see," I begin, my voice coming out higher than I'd like, "it's a bit of a long story..."

Quill's eyes narrow dangerously, and I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my back. Perhaps now isn't the time for a lengthy explanation.

"Fine, fine," I say hastily. "The short version is this: We've been here for eight months. Living expenses are... considerable. And our usual methods of acquiring wealth don't exactly translate well to this new world."

I gesture vaguely at our surroundings with my free hand. "We can't exactly set up a melon stand here, now can we?"

I watch as Quill's face contorts with a mix of disbelief and desperation. His grip on my tunic loosens, and I feel my feet touch the ground once more.

"Gold, silver, other metals?" Quill asks, his voice tinged with hope. "I'm certain we have an excessive amount of those," he adds, grasping at straws.

I shrug, trying to soften the blow. "They can just synthesize those."

His eyes widen, and I can almost see the gears turning in his head. "Crystals, formations, arrays, pills?" he asks, his voice rising with each word.

I take a deep breath, emphasizing each syllable as I speak. "L-O-W profile." I make sure to meet his gaze, driving the point home. "Not to mention they don't know what Qi is. All of those things attract way too much attention to be sold."

Quill's shoulders slump, but there's still a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Melons?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I almost feel bad for what I'm about to do. Almost. With a dramatic flourish, I snap my fingers. The food processor in the corner whirs to life, and in a matter of seconds, a large, perfectly ripe melon slice materializes out of thin air.

Quill's face crumples. "Noooo," he screams, falling to his knees. The sound of his anguish echoes through our small living space, a testament to the bizarre reality we now find ourselves in.