Darkness. Cold, suffocating, endless darkness.
He had expected death to be silent—an eternal void where even thought faded. Instead, pain remained. A dull ache gnawed at his soul, as if something had been torn from him. His body—was it even his?—felt weak, foreign, broken.
Then came the whispers.
"Awaken, my disciple… the heavens have forsaken you, but the abyss welcomes all who defy fate."
A jolt ran through his mind, and his eyes snapped open.
The world was a blur. His breath came out ragged, his body shivering from the damp cold seeping into his bones. The scent of rotting wood and mold filled his lungs. Above him, a ruined ceiling barely clung together, with moonlight leaking through cracks in the stone.
He tried to move—pain exploded in his limbs.
"Tch—!"
His entire body ached, every muscle stiff as if it hadn't moved in days. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright, pressing his back against a crumbling stone pillar.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
His hands—once refined and steady—were thin, scarred, and calloused. His meridians, which once pulsed with boundless Qi, were dormant. No golden core, no immortal energy, just an empty shell of a body.
His breath quickened. He shut his eyes and focused inward—searching, reaching for even the smallest ember of his former power.
Nothing.
His cultivation was gone.
No dantian. No spiritual veins. No celestial core. It was as if his entire existence as a cultivator had been erased.
"Where am I?" he muttered, his voice hoarse and foreign to his own ears.
The last thing he remembered was the heavenly tribulation—a sky split apart by divine fury, lightning that shattered the heavens. He had stood atop the sacred peak, moments away from transcendence, from shedding his mortal limits and stepping into immortality.
But the heavens had rejected him.
A flash of white-hot pain burned through his skull, and he clutched his head as fragmented memories surged. The moment of his fall—divine thunder reducing his body to ash, his soul wrenched from reality, spiraling into the void.
Yet, against all reason, he still existed.
But this was not his world.
His breathing slowed as his senses adjusted. He took in the ruins around him—cracked pillars, torn banners, shattered statues of faceless deities. The markings on the stone weren't from any cultivation sect or ancient dynasty he knew. The architecture was unfamiliar, the air heavy with the scent of decay.
A temple that has been forgotten.
Dust and loose parchment were stirred by a howling wind that swept across the remains. His spine pricked with uneasiness. He wasn't alone
Then something moved out of the darkness.
A low grumble, the soumd of claws rubbing up against rock.
His muscles stiffened. He looked around, and his gaze fell on a creature he had never seen before.
Although it had a canine-like hunch, its skin was broken like burnt flesh glowed a spooky blue. Hollow, soulless eyes bore into him, and when it opened its maw, rows of jagged teeth glistened with saliva.
Demonic beast? No… something else…
The creature lunged.
Instinct took over. He twisted his body, barely dodging as the beast's claws tore through the stone behind him, leaving deep gashes in the ruined floor. Dust exploded into the air.
He hit the ground hard, rolling across the uneven stone. His body was too slow. Too weak.
Another growl. The beast turned, its predatory instincts locked onto him.
He clenched his fists. No weapons. No Qi. No way to manipulate his body's energy. Damn it all.
He had fought celestial beings. He had stood against sect leaders who ruled for centuries. He had challenged heaven itself.
And now he was about to be torn apart by some feral beast?
The creature lunged again. He moved purely on instinct—grabbing a broken piece of rubble and slamming it into the beast's head.
A sickening crack echoed through the ruins.
The creature yelped, stumbling from the impact, but its hollow eyes burned with renewed rage. It shook off the blow and pounced once more.
"Tch!"
His mind raced. He needed a weapon. He needed power. He needed—
A voice echoed in his head. Dark, ancient, knowing.
"Do you seek power, my disciple?"
Time seemed to slow.
His heart pounded. The beast was inches away, claws aimed for his throat.
And in that moment, he had two choices.
To fall, nameless and forgotten in a world that was not his…
Or to seize the abyss that had welcomed him.
The answer was clear.
"Give it to me."
The whispers turned into a roar.
The air around him twisted. Dark energy coiled around his fingers, creeping up his arm like a living entity. His vision blurred, his body burning with an unfamiliar sensation.
And then—he struck.
A black tendril shot from his palm, impaling the beast through its chest. The creature let out a horrible, inhuman shriek as the dark energy devoured it from the inside. Its glowing blue eyes dimmed, its body convulsing before it crumbled into nothing but dust.
Silence.
His breath came in ragged gasps, his arms trembling. He looked down at his own hands—still covered in dark tendrils of abyssal energy.
This was not Qi. This was not magic.
This was something else.
The whispers returned, a satisfied chuckle echoing through his mind.
"Rise, my disciple. The heavens have cursed you… but the abyss has blessed you."