Chapter 36: Chapter 35: Judgement in Memory
Surya gripped his staff firmly, the ancient wood almost humming with his intent. He looked Skanda in the eyes, his stance unwavering. "If I must defeat you to free my friends," he declared, his voice filled with resolve, "then that's what I'll do."
Skanda's face darkened, his brows knitting together with disdain. "A Buddha, clinging to such petty human emotions?" he scoffed. "You don't deserve that title."
Surya's eyes burned with a fierce intensity, his spirit blazing like a wildfire. "If being a Buddha means abandoning my friends," he retorted, his voice echoing through the vast emptiness of the Grand Temple, "then I will be Buddha no more!"
Mei Lin and Li Wei, bound and helpless, stirred at his words. Though their mouths were gagged, the hope in their eyes was unmistakable. Tears welled up, not from fear but from a profound sense of gratitude. Surya was risking everything for them, and that meant more than any words could express.
Skanda shook his head, his expression a mixture of anger and incredulity. "How can you carry around the title of Buddha as if it were a mere trinket?" he sneered. "Buddhahood is a state that many have yearned to attain, a divine mantle that countless have tried for and failed. And here you are, treating it like a child's toy."
Skanda's anger simmered beneath his calm facade, his lips curling into a grimace. He raised his Vajra, the divine weapon of judgment, its sharp prongs crackling with an unseen power. "I will cast judgment upon you, Surya," he declared. "For your sins, for your hubris. You shall face the truth of your path!"
Suddenly, an otherworldly energy began to emanate from the Vajra, swirling around Surya like a storm of shimmering mist. It wasn't darkness, nor was it light—it was a realm between, a dimension that defied simple comprehension. Surya felt a pull, a force dragging him away from the temple, away from the present. His vision blurred, his senses dulled, and in the blink of an eye, he found himself standing beneath the expansive canopy of a Bodhi tree.
He knew this place.
He was witnessing his own birth.
Surya saw his infant self, small and alone under the Bodhi tree, the sacred leaves rustling gently in the wind, shimmering like emeralds kissed by sunlight. Around him, the world seemed to shift and bend, caught in a delicate balance that was forever changed by his presence. Unlike other infants who entered the world with a wail, his first words came out as if he was a fully-formed sage. Where others needed years to grasp wisdom, Surya was born with the mind of a seasoned monk.
A silver staff lay beside him, an extension of his very being, as if it had chosen him even before he took his first breath. It was a moment of cosmic alignment, where the universe seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what this child would become. There were no loving parents to cradle him, no family to welcome him. Surya's first steps were taken in solitude, his existence blessed only by the sacred Bodhi tree. It was as if the world had paved a unique path just for him, one that defied the natural order.
Surya watched this scene unfold with a mix of awe and detachment. He could not speak, could not interact—he was merely a spectator in this echo of the past. And then, he felt it—a cold, invasive presence.
Skanda materialized beside him, hisexpression serene but with a cruel glint in his eyes. His presence felt unnatural, as if he didn't belong in this sacred memory. He hovered beside Surya, like a dark narrator intruding upon a story that was never his to tell.
"Welcome to my realm, Surya," Skanda said, his voice echoing with an unsettling calm. "The realm of Samsara's Mirror—a domain beyond time and space, where the threads of fate are woven, unbroken by mortal or divine hand. Here, I hold dominion over the memories of those who dare meet my eyes. It is my ultimate power—to cast judgment upon any soul in the human realm."
The world around them rippled as if Skanda's words were stones cast into a still pond. The Bodhi tree, the infant Surya, the very earth beneath them—all seemed to waver and bend under the weight of Skanda's will. The atmosphere was dense with tension, as if the universe itself was watching, waiting for what would unfold.
Skanda's eyes gleamed with a cold, detached authority as he continued. "Even a Buddha is not exempt from sin, Surya. You, of all beings, should understand that. Your birth brought chaos where there should have been order, freedom where there should have been law. A freedom that defies the natural order of things."
Surya stood in silence, his usual lively demeanor subdued. He watched the unfolding memory, saw the delicate balance tipping with his infant cries, the harmony of the world adjusting to the arrival of a force that should not exist—a Buddha who chose his own path, a Rebel Buddha. It was strange to see his own existence narrated by another, twisted to fit a narrative of transgression and chaos.
"And now," Skanda went on, his voice sharp like the ringing of a bell in the vastness of the realm, "I will use your essence to restore the balance you've broken. With it, I shall resurrect Tara, the First Female Buddha. She will restore the sanctity of order that you have desecrated with your reckless ways."
The Vajra in Skanda's hand pulsed with a dark luminescence, its divine power rippling through the air. "It's all been leading to this, Surya. The death of those foolish warrior siblings, Mei Lin and Li Wei's loss, Ma Liang's desperation for revival—all orchestrated by me, all to culminate in this moment. Every step you've taken has been my design."
The realm trembled at his declaration. Skanda's power surged, the memory of the Bodhi tree distorted as if being torn apart by his wrath. The Vajra's energy swirled, creating a vortex that pulled at the very fabric of the world around them.
Surya remained still, his expression serene. "If this is your judgment," he said, voice steady amidst the chaos, "then I will face it as I have faced every challenge thus far— head on."
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