Darkness cracked.
Light bled through like golden ink spilled across black paper.
Lu Chen gasped awake.
His body jolted upright, drenched in sweat—or something like it. The air was warm. Sweet. Too clean.
He blinked.
Above him stretched a sky he did not recognize—soft hues of violet and gold swirling in slow motion. Two crescent moons hung in tandem. Towering trees with crystalline leaves rustled in a wind he couldn't feel.
He sat up.
A low hum passed through the ground beneath him. Then something moved. A creature—twenty feet tall, its skin scaled with gold and feathers, antlers spiraling like vines—stepped between the trees.
It looked at him. And then... simply walked on.
He knew that creature.
From an ancient text.
Shan Hai Jing. The Classic of Mountains and Seas.
Lu Chen's breath caught in his throat. "That was... a Tianlu?"
He stood slowly. The clothes on his body were different—simpler, lightweave robes threaded with unknown fabric. His hands were smaller. Younger.
He stumbled to a nearby stream and looked at his reflection.
A boy. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. His face, recognizably his—but softer. Fresher.
The system had kept its promise.
A new body.
Then the voice returned—cracked, glitching, like waking from static:
"Compatibility... stabilizing.""System authority... suspended.""Awaiting external trigger."
The jade fragment now embedded under his skin near his collarbone pulsed faintly. Like a heartbeat.
A pulse beat through the air—cold and mechanical.
Lu Chen staggered as something gripped the back of his mind.
"Reconnecting…"
The voice was back. Still synthetic, but no longer calm. It buzzed with static and strain, as if barely holding on.
"Host recognized: Lu Chen."
"Compatibility… 5%."
A sharp pain shot through his temples. He gritted his teeth, knees sinking slightly into the forest floor as a translucent screen flickered into existence before him.
It hovered midair—jittering, unstable—lines of code racing along the edges like a living circuit.
A simple prompt blinked:
[FATE: Partial Activation]System Authority: LockedSystem Access: RESTRICTED
Then, another window opened.
[STATUS - Lu Chen]
Race: Human (???)
Body State: Reconstructed
Spiritual Resonance: Minimal
FATE Alignment: Fragmented
Compatibility: 5% (System Assistance Severely Limited)
[SKILLS]
Spirit Energy Calculation Method (Incomplete)
Dao Insight: Beginner Tier (Incomplete)
Mind of the Observer (Passive – Memory Retention Enhanced)
[LOCKED]
[LOCKED]
[LOCKED]
[NOTES]
Due to low compatibility, skill activation may result in failure or backlash. System evolution requires either:a) Increase in spiritual compatibility.b) Recovery of source fragments.c) Re-alignment with FATE.
Lu Chen exhaled, sweat beading at his brow.
So the system wasn't gone—but it was crippled. He had only slivers of what might have once been a fully functioning interface.
The words Spirit Energy Calculation Method caught his attention—his own creation, a hybrid of ancient Daoist inference and algorithmic prediction. How did the system know that?
Because it was with me the whole time, he thought, fingers brushing the jade pendant that now hung warm and dimly pulsing against his chest.
Some part of his past had carried forward. But not enough.
Not yet.
The interface began to flicker, dimming.
Then one final line appeared:
"Seek convergence. Complete the alignment. Reclaim the Path."
Just as the translucent screen faded, Lu Chen blinked—and a faint ripple of light surged from the jade fragment near his chest.
Ding.
A second interface appeared, as if pulled from deep memory. It was simpler than before. Almost skeletal.
[NEW SYSTEM MODULE DETECTED]→ Skill Creation Console (Beta)
And below that, in faint golden script:
[Skill: Eight Desolations Art)]
Status: Incomplete | Source: Ancient Fragment
Type: Unknown
Attributes: ???
Compatibility: Unstable
His breath caught. The name stirred something old, buried deep. He didn't remember learning this skill—not directly—but it felt… familiar. Like a seed that had once been planted, now struggling to sprout.
The one who traverses the Eight Desolations, breaks through boundaries, and walks against the heavens.
The description flickered briefly across his vision before vanishing. The words etched themselves into his mind like branded fire.
Then the console pulsed again, changing.
[Skill Creation Console - Beta Ver.]
Create New Skill
Input Concept
Define Category (Combat, Support, Movement, Insight, etc.)
Merge with Known Doctrines
Risk: High
Compatibility Required: 15%+
Warning: Instability at current compatibility may cause memory corruption, physical backlash, or spiritual damage. Proceed?
Lu Chen stared at the console, a mix of excitement and dread bubbling inside him.
This… was beyond anything he had imagined. A system that let him create techniques—that merged Daoist thought, spiritual resonance, and some strange post-technological framework.
Eight Desolations Art... A skill that came from a world he hadn't yet seen, yet felt connected to. And a console to shape more?
As the interface dimmed, a low hum vibrated through the air. Then—soft light pooled at Lu Chen's feet.
Something formed in that glow.
A dark, pulsing orb, the size of his palm, floated upward. Its surface shifted like liquid obsidian, flecks of gold swirling within. It felt alive.
[Heart of Desolation]
Status: Dormant
Purpose: Skill Deconstruction & Inception
Requires: Compatible Essence
When Lu Chen reached out, the orb drifted toward him, gently embedding itself in his palm. It didn't hurt—but he felt a pull, as if it were tethered to something deeper in his soul.
Then the Skill Creation Console reappeared—this time, more detailed.
[Skill Creation Console – Module Online]
Input: Heart of Desolution
Authority Level: Restricted
Compatibility: 5%
Feature Unlocked: Skill Deconstruction
Upload any learned skill to Eight Desolutions Art to deconstruct into Skill Fragments Fragments = Code blocks | Building Units of New Techniques
Warning: Orb consume skills entirely during breakdown
Available Action:→ Deconstruct Skill→ Analyse Code Blocks→ Begin Custom Skill Inception
Lu Chen's eyes narrowed.
So that was it.
The orb wasn't just a mystical core—it was a living compiler of sorts. The Eight Desolutions Art was not merely a skill, but a foundation. A primal framework capable of understanding, dismantling, and remaking martial paths.
A Dao that evolved.
He could break down known techniques into pieces—like modular code—and rebuild new forms from them. Principles of force, movement, insight, intention… all translatable into fragments.