Endless March

The stars above shone coldly in the night sky, as though even the heavens were indifferent to Shree Yan's fate. The world was vast and empty, stretching out before him in every direction.

He had conquered everything. And yet, it was never enough.

The road ahead was endless, stretching into eternity. There was no goal, no end. Just an eternal march through the void of his own making.

Shree Yan walked, his footsteps echoing in the silence, knowing that this was the price of immortality. The endless pursuit of power, the endless desire for more. He had won everything, but it had come at the cost of his soul.

And so, he walked, without looking back.

The world was his. And yet, it was empty.

The only thing left for him was the journey.