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Wes Carter is dying.

A black sword pulses with corruption in his chest, his strength fading as blood seeps into the battlefield. He has no regrets—his people escaped, the war was fought, and he killed the man with void-black eyes.

But it wasn’t enough.

It never was.

As darkness claims him, two figures appear—enigmatic, powerful, and knowing. And with cruel certainty, they reveal a truth that shatters everything Wes believed:

His future was stolen.

Wes remembered that day. The day, as a child, he met the man with void-black eyes. The man who stood before him, bathed in the blood of those Wes cherished. The man who could have killed him but didn’t. Instead, he burned Wes’s soul, severing something deep within him.

That was the day everything changed.

That was the day he became a Null.

He should have been able to claim a Void Crystal, to rise like the others. Instead, he was cut off from that power, forced to forge his own way through Essence alone. And despite that, despite everything, he became peerless, a warrior standing at the edge of the Grand Stage—the universe beyond Earth’s wars.

And then, all these years later, that same man returned.

Not alone.

This time, he led an army—not just soldiers, but Fallen, beings marked by corruption, their eyes the same void-black as his own. They descended upon Wes with overwhelming force, and though he fought, though he killed his greatest enemy, it still wasn’t enough.

More questions than answers. Why had his future been stolen? Why had that man, all those years ago, chosen to cripple him instead of killing him?

Now, as Wes breathes his last, the two figures offer him something impossible:

A second chance.

They will sever the future—a phrase Wes doesn’t yet understand—but before he can question it, they shove a black seed, dark as night, into his chest.

And then—rebirth.

No longer fighting for survival in a dying world, he enters a new era—one where humanity has rebuilt, where Void Crystals, Essence, and Mana-Tech shape civilization, and where the truth of the universe is within reach.

Yet, the past is not erased. The man with void-black eyes may be dead, but the forces behind him still move. The answers he seeks are still out there. And this time, he will find them.

Monsters. Rival races. Forgotten legends. The enemies lurking beyond the void.

This time, Wes Carter will not be denied.

His rise is inevitable.

(NOTE READ AUXILLARY CHAPTER)

Void Tree Chronicles

After dinner, Wes made his way back to his room, expecting to unwind for the night. He hadn't been there long before Chad showed up, chessboard in hand.

"Rematch?" Chad asked, already setting up the pieces before Wes could answer.

Wes sighed but sat down anyway. "Fine. But this time, I'm winning."

Chad didn't just play chess—he lived it. Where Wes spent his time on sports, Chad spent his studying openings, tactics, and endgames. Chess wasn't just a game to him; it was a puzzle he had spent years solving. Every move Wes made felt like stepping into a strategy Chad had already memorized.

Still, Wes wasn't completely helpless. He lasted longer this time, forcing Chad to hesitate on a few moves. That felt like a win in itself.

When the match finally ended, Chad leaned back, stretching. "Not bad. You forced me to think a little. But you still collapse in the endgame."

"Yeah, yeah," Wes muttered. "Next time, I'll actually win."

Instead of setting up another game, Wes stood up. "By the way, I've been meaning to show you something."

Wes motioned for him to stand. "Earlier, when you grabbed that guy in the fight—you could've done it better."

Chad frowned slightly, as if replaying the moment in his head. "How?"

Wes gestured. "Grab me like you did before."

Chad complied, gripping Wes's arm in the same way he had earlier.

Wes studied it for a second, then nodded. "Not bad, but you could've had more control. Here—adjust your grip like this." He repositioned Chad's hands slightly, then shifted his stance. "See? Now if the guy struggles, you're not just holding him—you're controlling his movement."

Chad tested the adjustment, rolling his shoulders thoughtfully. "Huh. That actually makes sense."

"Told you," Wes said with a smirk.

Satisfied, they flopped onto the floor, flipping through some of Wes's comics. Limited computer time meant finding other ways to stay entertained. They got into their usual debates—who had the best superpowers, who was the smartest, and, of course, who would win in a fight. Neither of them ever backed down.

Then, at exactly 8:00 PM, they both got up to start getting ready for bed.

Just as Wes reached for his bedside lamp, the lights in the room surged violently—flickering, then growing unnaturally bright before dimming back down.

Wes frowned. "Okay… that's weird."

Chad, already analyzing it, narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. "That wasn't just a flicker. It looked like a voltage spike. Maybe a surge in the main line?"

Wes gave him a blank stare. "…Meaning?"

Chad smirked. "Either the wiring in this house sucks, or something's messing with the grid."

The lights steadied, and everything seemed fine.

Shrugging it off, they continued getting ready for bed.

A few minutes later, their mom appeared in the doorway, arms crossed with that knowing look. "You two getting settled?"

She walked over and pulled them both into a firm hug. "Good. Sleep well."

As she left, Simon—Wes's stepfather—came up the stairs, phone in hand, frowning. "Hey, are your phones working? The Wi-Fi and cell service are down."

"I was supposed to make an overseas call with a colleague tonight."

Their mom pulled her phone from her pocket and checked. "No signal here either."

Simon sighed, rubbing his temple. "Figures. Probably just a network issue. I'll try again tomorrow."

At the time, no one thought much of it. Just a minor inconvenience.

But later, Wes would remember this moment—the surging lights, the sudden loss of service.

The first sign that something was wrong.

Calm Before the Surge