Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Two: Primordial Source Nearly Gone — Dao-Transformation Imminent

Volume Four: The Dao Gives Rise to Myriad Things — Life First Sprouts

Pangu's Primordial Source was now a flicker — a candle flame in a vast darkness. His body had grown so transparent that the stars behind him were visible through his chest. His heartbeat had slowed to one pulse every several days. His breathing had become so shallow that the wind itself seemed to breathe more deeply than he did.

And yet his mind was clearer than ever. Freed from the burden of maintaining a physical form, his consciousness expanded to fill the entire world. He felt every breeze, every ripple on every pond, every root pushing through soil, every leaf turning toward Xiwei's light. He was no longer in the world — he was becoming the world.

Dao-Transformation was not death. It was the final stage of creation: the creator merging with the created, the potter becoming the clay. His body would dissolve, but the energy that had been his body would become mountains and rivers, forests and fields. His breath would become the wind. His voice would become thunder. His eyes would become the sun and moon. Every part of him would find new purpose in the world he had made.

Primordial Source nearly gone, Dao-Transformation imminent. Pangu looked at his fading hands and smiled. They had held up the sky for eighteen thousand years. Soon, they would become the sky itself.