Ling's silver-white eyes blankly reflected the shattered sky. There was no pain, no resolve-only a stillness like a bottomless pool. Sakura's arms froze around him, and she even forgot to maintain her medical chakra. All she felt was that the person in her embrace had suddenly become very light, so light he might turn into a wisp of smoke at any moment.
"Ling...?" Her voice trembled. She could barely recognize the owner of those eyes.
He did not respond. Perhaps he had not even heard her. His consciousness now hung at a strange threshold-half still inside his body, wracked by searing pain, while the other half seemed to have merged with the bands of order-light convulsing in agony within the gray void. The Black Stone's final gift, that ancient knowledge, whispered in the depths of his soul in a way that transcended language.
...See its pathways... find its breaks... make your body a bridge... guide the dust to fill the gaps...
He "saw" it. Beneath the seething turbulence of laws lay the "wounds" torn into the world's underlying order. Countless silver-white bands of light had snapped and twisted like a severed neural network, unable to transmit the "information" they should have carried. The laws in that region had fallen into utter chaos and self-destruction as a result. The Sacred Lord's "nothingness" had not appeared out of nowhere. It was a distorted product leaking from these "wounds in order."
Fighting the turbulence was like trying to plug the nozzle of a high-pressure water jet with his hand.
The only solution was to repair the "wounds" that produced the turbulence.
The material for those repairs was the most primordial "dust of order" the Black Stone had left behind after exhausting itself. The "fuse" that would guide this dust was Ling's own soul.