The wind howled about Li Yan, its icy fingers slicing across the ground, nipping at his skin. His pace was slow, deliberate, as if with every step he was held back by the burden of the decision he had made. The golden aura that once blazed so hot now flickered like a flame in the breeze, mirroring the turmoil within his heart. He had followed the harder road, one that was fraught with uncertainty and unknown dangers, but with every step that carried him further from the rift, the burden of his decision dug deeper into his heart.
The world outside was ominously quiet, except for the harsh wind that howled over the barren wasteland. The beauty which had once adorned this earth with vibrant hues had now faded away, and in its place there was only an eerie quiet. The hues of the world had faded, as if even the world itself was holding its breath in response to the choice that he had made.
Li Yan remained motionless, his gaze sweeping the desolate wasteland. He was by himself, truly alone for the first time in what felt like an eternity. There were no smiling faces, no friends, no guiding forces. The Abyss had attempted to test him, but it had also shown him the truth: this path, this way, was his and his alone. The weight of that truth was one that he had not yet truly felt until now.
The voice, that unearthly, eerie voice, had spoken to him once more. Its words rested in his thoughts like a memory from a far distance, assuring him. You have acted correctly, Li Yan. You are not well-suited for the way of shadows. The power that you are looking for is not found in shadows—it is found in the power of your own heart. Trust in yourself, and you will be led.
But even as the words flowed through his mind, there was doubt. Had he made the right decision? The chasm had held out the promise of boundless power. The desire to take it had been near overwhelming, a summons to some part of him that could not be denied. To forego it was to take the path with no assurances, a path in which power was not granted to him, but earned through labor, blood, and sacrifice. Could he ever expect to build such a path alone?
Li Yan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus, to be at peace in the midst of the storm of questions swirling in his mind. He needed to focus, needed to remember why he had turned away from the darkness. He had not done it out of fear. No. He had done it because he would not become what the darkness would make him. He would not let it shape him, shape him into something else.
The golden aura around him fluttered once more, as if in response to his resolve. Yet the world remained too silent. Too empty.
He was deep in thought when a low rumble shook the very air. The ground beneath him trembled as the earth cracked and shattered before a figure coalesced on the horizon. It was a silhouette at first, a dark form moving at inhuman speeds towards him. The air thickened, chilled, as if the figure's presence was warping the world around them. Li Yan's instincts screamed at him, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword out of habit.
The shape grew closer, its outline deepening. Towering and ominous, it was shrouded in a hood of darkness that seemed to devour the light itself. The air about it vibrated with a chill power, and Li Yan felt the weight of its presence pressing down upon him like a storm. Its eyes—smoldering with a dim, unnatural, otherworldly light—seared the ground between them, fastening on his own with a frigid glare that sent a shiver dancing down his spine.
It was as if the world itself had bent to give space to this man, and Li Yan, in that instant, felt small.
The figure stopped before him, its gaze never wavering from his. Li Yan stood tall, his golden aura bursting out in return, though the light was not as brilliant now. He felt the strain of his energy, a reminder that his golden power was not limitless. It too had its limits, and he had pushed it to the limit. "You've trodden the path of weakness," the figure said, its voice low and deep and with a sickening calm. There was no hostility in its tone, only a crushing conviction. "Power was yours and you let it slip through your fingers and for what? To preserve the weak? To maintain some misguided sense of justice?"
Li Yan's jaw clenched. He would not let this monster—whatever it was—test his will. His fist tightened on his sword hilt as the golden aura around him wavered in response.
"I walked the way that I believe in," Li Yan replied, his voice steady but with the suppressed fury of a man who has already made his decision. "I will not be swayed by offers of authority. True authority is within, and I will demonstrate that to you."
The lips of the figure curled into a cold smile. "Naivety," it sneered, as if it was beneath it to even consider going against power. "You have no idea what forces are at play here, Li Yan. The world is not kind to those who fight against the tide. Your idealism will be your downfall. You cannot remake the world on will and ideals alone. It is power that you need, and power you will get, or all that you love will be crushed beneath."
Li Yan's breath caught in his throat, the figure's words cutting deeper than he had expected. It was the truth, in a sense. Strength was power, and without it, how would he be able to hold back the storm to come? He thought of those he had left behind, of the comrades he had yet to meet. Would he be strong enough to protect them from harm without the bare power the rift provided? Could he truly save the world from the darkness?
But his mind flashed back to the moment when he had walked away from the rift, when he had not continued on to follow the path of least resistance, to give in to the temptation of infinite power. That had been a decision of the heart—not because he needed to dominate, but because he needed to remain faithful to himself.
"I am different from you," Li Yan said, his tone low, but firm. "I will not be defined by power. The path that I will tread will be my own to create, and I will not tread it in solitude."
The figure's eyes blazed hotter with his words, a glimmer of something dark and near-predatory light appearing in them. "Then you will see the cost of your choices, Li Yan. You will know how much the world demands of you—and when you are broken, when you have nothing left to give, you will wish that you had chosen differently."
It began to move again, its form breaking apart in the air like smoke, leaving only the faintest memory of its presence. But as it vanished, its voice remained with us, suspended in the air like a ghostly whisper.
"So you will see, soon enough."
The world spun once more, the figure's words hanging in the air long after it had disappeared, the force of them bearing down. Li Yan remained still, his head reeling, the quiet ringing in his ears. The golden aura that surrounded him pulsed with an otherworldly power, as if it too was questioning him, goading him to reconsider.
He had made up his mind, but had he made it the right one? The uncertainty plagued him, as if some part of him hung in limbo, holding out for assurance, for affirmation. But the truth was, there would not be any. There would not be any easy answers. His choices had brought him to where he was this day, and one way or another, he would have to see them through, no matter the cost.
A cold gust of wind swept over the terrain, tugging at his mantle, and Li Yan took a deep breath. What lay in front of him was only just beginning, and he would not be able to turn back. What he had chosen to do would be full of stumbling blocks, danger, and temptations. But he would face them all with the courage he had built up in his heart. And so, with the weight of his decision on his shoulders, Li Yan departed from the place where the shadows had spoken to him. His destiny ahead of him remained uncertain, but one thing was certain: he would no longer be a piece to be used in a game of destiny. He would be the master of his own destiny. And the start of it all was to survive the consequences of the choice he had made.