Author's Note
Before anything else, I want to thank you for choosing to read my book. That means a lot to me, and I hope the story manages to touch you in some way. But I need to be honest: you might find some mistakes in the English translation. I sincerely apologize for that, in case something doesn't sound natural or causes any confusion.
Portuguese is my first language, and English... well, let's say it's not my strong suit. I'm not very proficient or fluent in it, and that limited me quite a bit. To bring this story to you, I used artificial intelligence to help with the translation. It was the best resource I had at hand, but I know it's not perfect and some slips might have gotten through.
Writing this book in Portuguese was something I did with a lot of care and dedication. I wanted to share this journey with readers in other languages, and the English translation was my attempt to make that happen. Even if the result has its flaws, my wish is that the spirit of the story still reaches you.
So, I ask for a bit of patience and understanding. If you can look past the possible mistakes, I hope you find something special in the pages I wrote. Thank you for being here and for giving my voice a chance!
---
I plopped down on the damp, icy floor of the tomb, letting the stone's chill creep into my bones like a quiet whisper from some forgotten abyss. The silence around me thickened, heavy and almost touchable, as if the shadows in that chamber were sizing me up with hidden, curious eyes. I sucked in a deep breath, the air so thick it carried an old, musty scent—stirring up echoes of times long buried, like ghosts brushing against my mind.
"Man, this silence…" I muttered, my voice barely a ripple, bouncing softly through the empty space.
I shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, wrestling with the jittery buzz running through me while this strange calm kept tugging at my edges. My hands settled on my knees, fingers curling just enough to ground me, like I was clinging to this moment I couldn't quite pin down. The room buzzed with a mystery that felt alive, holding its breath for something I couldn't name yet.
I shut my eyes and let out a slow breath, shaking off the little thoughts cluttering my head. The world outside blurred into a faint hum, melting into the gloom wrapping around me. My body went limp, sinking into the endless dark—and that's when the orbs showed up.
They slipped in like silent hunters, cutting through the air with a grace that was almost too sharp, slicing into me like my skin was nothing but mist. When they hit the wild storm churning inside, something cracked wide open—then pieced itself back together in the same heartbeat.
A rush of energy crashed over me, dark and vast like an endless sea, tearing through every wall I had and dragging me down into depths I couldn't grasp. I didn't fight it—I let it pull me, swept up in something bigger than myself. My senses flickered out, and I sank into the quiet grip of nothing.
In that stillness, bits of wisdom started floating up—memories that didn't belong to me, soft echoes of lives long gone, murmuring in the dark. Little sparks of power danced around, sketching out weird shapes that pulsed like they had a heartbeat. Some ancient language I'd never heard burned into my head, hot and fierce, lighting up secrets I didn't even know I was chasing.
But there was more to it.
Something huge was there—deep, impossible to figure out, bigger than just raw strength. I can feel you… like you're staring right through me from the heart of this dark, I thought, my pulse kicking up as I tried to catch whatever was circling me. Its gaze sliced into my soul, cold and sharp, digging into every piece of me. Then, out of nowhere, it all just—vanished. Unconsciousness hit me hard, no warning, leaving nothing but silence to stand watch.
My body stayed still, but my soul? It woke up in this bizarre place where impossible things started feeling real. My mind went quiet, but something stubborn inside wouldn't let go. That hidden part of me—the shadowy corner where everything I am hangs out—flared to life, awake in its own way.
No doubt about it: something's tracing every inch of me, I realized, as this new presence stepped out of the void.
It moved like a traveler mapping out a strange land, studying me down to the smallest detail, knowing me in ways I couldn't even dream of. Its unseen eyes locked onto the spiritual sea inside me, where three orbs glowed—each one shining with its own rare, unmistakable light.
From their cores, something climbed up: three soul foundations, like pillars carved from ancient know-how. Each orb threw out its own vibe, quietly jostling for my attention, itching to steer where I'd go next. But while they played their little game, my unconscious self dropped the hammer.
My soul—hidden till now under a thick, foggy veil—took over. With one brutal swipe, it smashed those essences to bits before they could even blink—like wiping out cosmic Chaos beasts was just another Tuesday. It was power flexing hard, spitting in the face of every spiritual rule.
For a split second, that fog around my soul cleared, showing me something wild—terrifying, but so damn beautiful. That peek kicked my spiritual sea into overdrive, swelling up with a depth and richness I can't even describe.
The wisdom locked in those orbs—once tangled and heavy—got unraveled and remade in a flash. The pure knowledge inside? It leveled up, soaring to places I couldn't imagine. Old rituals turned into something fresh, rebuilt with a finesse that left their first versions choking on dust.
Now I've got the lifeblood of knowledge in me, I told myself—awake, maybe?—my voice steady, a quick spark of feeling fading fast.
With that wisdom carved deep, a weird mix of strength and peace started pumping through me. The air, thick with the tomb's shadows, almost seemed to lean in, like it knew something big was coming. I closed my eyes again and let reality slip through my fingers, bracing for the shift I couldn't stop.
It rolled in quiet, like it'd been waiting there all along, picking the perfect moment to show up. No rush, no wobble—just this rock-solid certainty creeping closer.
What's happening to me? I might've wondered, if I were awake.
My body didn't budge, but that secret spot in my unconscious—where all I am sits in the dark—stirred again. Something eternal I'd never noticed before woke up, strong and unexpected.
Once again, it revealed itself with the calm of someone who'd been biding their time for ages—steady, sure, like it knew this was always coming.
Then, a drop of blood slipped out—from it, or me, since we were the same. It wasn't yanked out; it just broke free, a pure little piece of my soul drifting down through the full emptiness inside me.
This wasn't the red stuff I was used to. It was a crazy swirl of colors you couldn't name, a deep, wild abyss where shades crashed and split in a dance that broke every rule. That drop's rhythm hooked me, like it was whispering secrets from the omniverse and beyond—stories of beginnings lost somewhere in time.
It shattered into a million tiny specks, each one glowing with a bright, intense hue I couldn't pin down. These weren't letters or signs I knew—they were codes way past understanding, rewriting everything from the roots up, like a new order pulling itself together right in front of me.
My body kicked into gear before my brain could catch up. A sharp, bone-deep cold hit me like a slap, spreading fast as something wild and unknowable sank into every inch of me. My blood—plain old red stuff a minute ago—started acting up, quietly fighting the change. Every cell felt like it split apart, then stitched itself back together, shaped by some brand-new idea I couldn't even name.
My bones? They turned this weird gold color, shot through with violet veins that pulsed like they didn't belong here. Thin, glowing lines carved themselves into me, like rivers of power redrawing who I'd been. My veins flipped from boring lifelines to these violet-and-gold threads, channeling energy that felt like it was drawn by starlight. And my meridians—used to be twelve, nice and simple—jumped to thirty-six, thrumming deep like some endless heartbeat that didn't care about human limits.
Even my organs got in on it. My spleen turned pure white, like fresh snow, giving off this untouchable calm. My heart stopped being just a pump—it morphed into this golden core, laced with white veins, cradling a tiny sun that flickered inside. My blood went nuts, swapping between rich reds, bright golds, and deep violets—like life itself was getting reworked by something way over my head.
But the real show was in my brain and eyes. My head started buzzing, colors swirling—violet, gold, black, white—dancing together in a way that felt too big for this world. Thoughts crashed in like waves from some infinite ocean, tying me to places I couldn't picture. Every nerve stretched out, weaving this crazy web of understanding. It wasn't just a brain anymore—it was a field of energy where everything I knew and didn't know melted into one.
And my eyes? These aren't mine anymore, I thought. They'd changed completely. One sparkled like a kaleidoscope, catching every bit of power and wisdom running through me. The other? A black hole—not just dark, but a gap where reality couldn't stick, pure nothingness staring back.
The tomb didn't like it. The place, quiet as death before, started twitching—shadows jerking around like they were spooked, the air getting thick with something heavy I couldn't name. It was like the whole room was asking, What's going on here?
My lungs leveled up too. They split into four layers, nested like puzzle pieces, violet as twilight with black veins running through—not just carrying blood, but something deeper. Every breath I took felt bigger, like I was pulling in ancient dust or secrets. My blood stopped being red altogether, shifting to this whitish-gold and violet mix—a new shade that carried weight beyond life or death.
I just watched it happen. Cool as ever, with a tiny flicker of huh, neat, I tracked each shift like it was all part of some grand plan clicking into place. Whatever I was turning into, it felt meant to be—but even that barely scratched the surface of what was out there waiting.
My kidneys joined the party, going pink and violet with black streaks pulsing to their own beat. My blood tripled in volume, roaring through me like a river with a mind of its own, driven by something bigger than just being alive.
Outside, I looked the same—still human, like all this was my little secret. But inside? I'd crossed a line. My body was a shrine now, every cell screaming power I was only starting to get. The gap between old me and new me was night to day, end to start.
I wasn't the same guy. Something huge woke up inside me—too big to grab hold of—and I was standing at the edge of figuring out what it meant.
When I started cultivating, time just… stopped mattering. Past, future—it all blurred into nothing, like existence was just a faint breeze. My body sat there, still as stone, but my mind took off, wandering through places I couldn't touch. The tomb faded into vague shapes—shadows stretching and shrinking—as this colorless void rolled out in front of me. Nothing counted except moving forward.
That first week was a flood of feelings. Every heartbeat twisted days into nights—I didn't sleep or stay awake, I just was, hanging out between the real world and the edge of nothing. The energy pouring into me wasn't food or air—it was a call, dragging me past human limits.
My body kept changing, second by second. My bones hardened like some living metal, humming with a strength I couldn't explain. My blood thickened, packed with something more than life. Every piece of me rewrote itself into something that laughed at this world's rules. But the real shift wasn't just flesh—it was me. Something core broke loose, free from the everyday chains I'd never noticed.
I—Nael—clocked every change, but I didn't gasp or cheer. I just watched, calm and sharp as always. This was coming either way, I thought. Like a math problem solving itself, step by step.
No sweat, no struggle. The Body Refinement realm, then the Divine Gate of Organs—heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys—were supposed to be fights. For me? They just opened up, easy as breathing, my DNA twisting itself into something new. I didn't stop there—pushed past to the sixth gate, the Brain. No one's done that, not since forever. A gate in the brain? Unheard of. Even if someone guessed it was there, cracking it—or surviving it—would be a one-in-a-googol shot.
When I hit the Foundation stage, the universe blinked. The air got heavy, like something invisible was holding its breath. Ascension's supposed to cap out at nine foundations—cultivation's iron rule, the top for anyone.
Not me. I kept going. Fate's not my boss, I told myself. To ditch it, I've got to outdo the ones it broke. My essence stretched past what anyone knew.
Every tweak, every surge, proved I'd left "human" in the dust. My being turned into this mix of light and shadow, power and peace, coded with mysteries. As the universe took a second to catch up, my path stretched on, steady, toward whatever I'd make of it.
The tenth foundation woke up under my skin—a sharp crack in the dark, echoing in my soul. Then the twentieth, the fiftieth—each one stacking up like forbidden towers, piling on power that thumbed its nose at the natural order. The seventieth, eightieth, and finally the eighty-first. Then, like a cosmic joke, it all stopped.
The universe flipped on me. What used to bend for me turned hard, pushing back like it wanted me gone. It wasn't a fist or a storm—just this quiet, living nope whispering, This ain't right.
I—Nael—felt the weight trying to smash me flat, undo everything I'd climbed to. Around me, reality started fraying: the ground softened, the air melted into nothing. Everything teetered between order and chaos, like the world was wondering what to do with me. I stood there, watching. My eyes—one a black pit swallowing light, the other a glowing mess of secrets—caught it all. That wall ahead would've stopped anyone else cold. Not me. Quiet and stubborn, I stepped forward.