But Zhou Heng did not give up on filling his own "Mind Corridor" because of this.
He maintained his initial posture as the "Seated Awakened One," his expression peaceful and composed, remaining immovable within the dark nothingness of his deep consciousness.
With a slight stirring of his thoughts, he continued activating the skill rooted in Blue Star's ancient mythology: "One Breath, Three Pure Ones."
At the astonishing rate of exactly one million selves per second, Zhou Heng continuously split off one pure, flawless "concept of self" after another deep within the faults of his sea of consciousness.
They were humanoid figures of light identical to his true body, their long hair loose, their expressions stern, the pristine divinity of the Two-Color Star God flowing around them.
The instant each avatar he split off landed, it obeyed the absolute command of his true body's primary consciousness, striding with unwavering steps in orderly ranks toward every direction.
And with these "concepts of self," he filled every corner of the "Mind Corridor" without leaving a single gap.
Although, compared with that enormous "Mind Corridor," the replenishment rate of a million avatars per second still seemed somewhat slow.
It was like a tiny mortal holding an iron spoon, vainly attempting to forcibly fill a vast starry abyss spanning the greater universe with one insignificant spoonful of fine sand after another.
But Zhou Heng knew that within this absolute domain, where the "Lord of Contemplation" had completely blocked all observation and the flow of time, he had infinite time.
Outside, perhaps only a single drop of spray had splashed up from the surging Black River, yet within this deep pool of consciousness, that moment could be stretched endlessly into a long eternity.
Under these circumstances, time slipped away, little by little, second by second.
Ten