Shadows of the Past

Darkness swallowed everything.

Jian Mu stood in the void, the weight of the black talisman burning against his palm. The world he knew—the infirmary, the academy—faded into nothingness. Only silence remained, heavy and suffocating, until—

Tap... Tap... Tap...

A slow, deliberate sound echoed through the void—footsteps.

And then, a voice—smooth, mocking—cut through the silence.

"Shall we refresh your memory of your weakness?"

Jian Mu's body tensed. His heart pounded against his ribs as he turned toward the voice. From the darkness emerged a figure—a man wreathed in shadow. His crimson eyes gleamed with cruel amusement, and his presence was suffocating.

"You…" Jian Mu's voice was low, strained. "Who are you?"

The figure chuckled softly. "Have you forgotten so soon?" He stepped closer, the darkness curling around his form like living tendrils. "I am the voice you've tried so hard to ignore. The truth you keep running from and most of all I'mYou."

The space around them shifted. The black void twisted and bent—until Jian Mu stood in a familiar courtyard.

His father's courtyard.

A sharp winter wind cut through the air. Snow fell in soft, silent flakes, but the cold that pierced his bones came from something far crueler.

A boy—thin, frail—knelt in the snow. His hands were bloodied, his face bruised. Jian Mu's breath caught in his throat. It was him.

The younger version of himself trembled as his half-brother, Jian Yuren, stood above him, sword in hand. Other clan members watched from a distance, their faces blank, uncaring.

"Do you remember this day?" the voice asked. "The day you learned exactly where you stood?"

Jian Mu's fists clenched as the memory unfolded.

"You're a disgrace," Jian Yuren's voice rang out, cold and sharp. "You're not fit to carry the Jian name."

The younger Jian Mu tried to rise, only for Yuren to strike him down again, the back of his sword slamming against his ribs.

The pain. The humiliation. It all came rushing back.

"You begged," the voice murmured in his ear. "Like a pathetic worm in the dirt. And no one came to save you."

Jian Mu's nails dug into his palms, his body trembling with barely restrained fury. "I didn't have a choice…"

"No," the figure agreed, stepping beside him. "Because you were weak."

The scene shifted again—this time, to a dimly lit chamber. His mother lay on a thin mattress, her face pale, her breathing weak. Jian Mu stood at her side, holding her hand—helpless as her life slipped away.

"You swore you'd protect her," the voice whispered. "But when she needed you most, you couldn't do a thing."

"I—" Jian Mu's throat tightened, the weight of guilt pressing against his chest.

"You couldn't even stop them from letting her die," the figure continued, his tone laced with venom. "While they laughed and celebrated your weakness."

"You remember the look of disappointment your own father gave. The hate in his eyes." The voiced mocked him even more forcing to remember his tortuous past.

The memory burned—a wound that had never healed. He remembered sitting there after her death, cold and alone, as the clan moved on without a second thought.

"Is this why you cling to your anger?" the figure taunted. "Because deep down, you know the truth—without power, you're nothing."

The world twisted again. Now he stood in the forest—back in the trial. Blood stained his hands. The boy he killed lay at his feet, his lifeless eyes wide with shock.

"You hesitated," the voice sneered. "And yet you still killed him. Was it worth it? Did it make you stronger, or did it break you even more?"

Jian Mu's body shook as the memories crashed over him—every failure, every moment of powerlessness. He wanted to scream. To fight back. But the figure only laughed.

"How much longer will you endure this pathetic existence?" the voice pressed, circling him like a predator. "You know I'm right. Without power—"

The figure leaned in, his crimson eyes blazing.

"You will lose everything."

Jian Mu's vision blurred with rage and pain. His heart pounded against his ribs as the voice grew louder, harsher—

"Let the eternal darkness you possess control you… and I will make you strong."

The void trembled beneath his feet. The black talisman pulsed in his hand, flooding his body with searing heat. For a fleeting moment, Jian Mu hesitated.

Because deep down—he knew the voice wasn't lying.

His father. His brother. The entire clan…

Without power, he was nothing.

And he was done being nothing.

Jian Mu's lips curled into a snarl as he tightened his grip on the talisman. "Fine," he whispered, his voice laced with raw fury. "Show me."

The demon's laughter echoed through the void.

"Good. Let us begin."

And as the darkness swallowed him whole—Jian Mu took his first true step towards madness.

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End of Chapter 12