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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

And just like that, Elijah got to space.

Unlike the movies, it wasn't even that cool.

The ship wasn't some sleek, futuristic marvel with panoramic windows showing the vast cosmos. No, it was just a big, bulky transport—pure function, zero spectacle.

Like, why the fuck would you make a spaceship with no windows?

Instead, everything was monitored through internal screens. The vessel itself was about the size of a three-story house, which was kind of impressive—until they dumped his ass into a crib.

Like, want to see this ship take off, motherfucker? Too bad. Crib time.

Elijah scowled but didn't fight it. Seeing Abel's dejected face, he decided not to cry just to be held. No point in making the guy feel worse.

He could hear Abel talking to an AI.

Gorrak had told him about space before—how weaponized space battles became pointless after A-rank. The guy always kept things vague, saying, "Better to cultivate and find out."

But after being a Sovereign and forming an ideal mana law, Elijah had pieced things together.

It had something to do with Domains.

Most space battles weren't flashy sci-fi dogfights. They were brutal, fought with shuttles, boarding maneuvers, and close-quarters combat.

Gorrak had once said the elders described them as epic.

Elijah had been so damn close to seeing it in his last life.

Like planets, universes had Membranes too.

Gorrak had explained that most of the universe was B-rank accessible—unlike planets, cultivators could restrict their power and enter freely.

A-rankers and above could temporarily unrestrict their cultivation, launch attacks before the Membrane forced them out. As long as they didn't commit wanton slaughter, they'd only face a small tribulation.

You needed to be real fucking careful about who you pissed off.

There were plenty of stories of some young master offending the wrong person and getting wiped off the map.

Gorrak had mentioned mana tech that could circumvent it, and Elijah was pretty sure Domains interfered as well. But again—conjecture.

Elijah yawned and reached out, poking his sister. Esther, already awake, started belly laughing, tiny hands flailing as she tried to grab at him.

Looking into her bright blue eyes made something twist in Elijah's chest.

For a second, he wasn't looking at Esther.

He had failed that sister. But he wouldn't fail Esther.

He had done nothing for his mother in his last life as she was killed.

But one thing was certain—when he got strong enough, rivers of blood would flow.

He had failed in his last life to protect his family.

His gaze flickered down to his left hand.

At first glance, it looked like a birthmark, but Elijah knew better.

The woman he loved with his whole heart was still alive.

He had called her his second love, a joke between them. She had always said battle was his first.

She had accepted him as he was. God, he loved that about her. Confident, unwavering, certain that he would be the one to reach the stars before her.

She had once told him he would always have a place in her heart.

Ironically, he was the one who had been left behind.

He wondered—had she reached A-rank?

She was insanely talented, but few could match Elijah in his past life.

He had been called many things. Monster. Cultivation freak. Genius of geniuses.

He knew how much struggle it had taken to get to that point.

For years, he had been seen as a loser.

As he looked at the brand forming on his hand, he knew one thing for sure.

In Space