Chapter 3: " The Beginning"

The river of time flows ever forward, indifferent to the rise and fall of the Creation. The Heavens are vast and silent, unmoved by the struggles of those who walk beneath them. Hundreds of thousands of years had passed since the last echoes of a forgotten war faded into oblivion.

Now, in a world untouched by the remnants of the ancient past, the cycles of fate turned once more.

A Storm Over the Mortal Realm

Rumble!

Dark clouds churned in the heavens, their depths roiling with unseen fury.

The storm loomed over a vast city of glass and steel, its towering spires clawing at the sky.

A torrential downpour fell unceasingly, drenching the streets below, turning the neon-lit avenues into shimmering rivers of light.

The howling winds carried whispers—faint, indistinct murmurs lost within the ceaseless drumming of the rain.

At the heart of this modern city stood A high School, an institution that prided itself on cultivating the minds of the next generation.

Yet, on this storm-ravaged night, fate turned its gaze upon one of its students

A Classroom of Mortal Ignorance

The droning voice of the history teacher echoed through the dimly lit classroom. The students sat in quiet disinterest, their thoughts adrift as the lecture on past wars and fallen Dynasties continued without end.

At the very back of the room, seated away from the watchful eyes of the Teacher, was Gu Dao.

A handsome young man with striking features, he should have exuded the vibrant energy of youth, yet, at this moment, his expression was anything but peaceful.

His head lay on his folded arms, his brow slick with cold sweat. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, his body trembling as if trapped in some unseen struggle.

His deskmate frowned, nudging him once. Then again.

No response.

Gu Dao was far beyond the reach of the waking world.

A Dream of Eternal Darkness

A world of boundless void.

The heavens above and the earth below did not exist. There was no sky, no ground—only emptiness. An eternal abyss, stretching beyond the limits of comprehension. The silence was suffocating, the air thick with an ominous presence, pressing against his soul like an unseen hand.

Then—

ROOOOAAAARRR!

A primordial roar shattered the silence, shaking the Foundation of the void.

Lightning surged in all directions, each bolt vast as a heavenly river, illuminating twisted shadows lurking beyond the abyss. The sheer force of the thundering heavens sent waves of terror crashing into his heart.

Something ancient and unfathomable dwelled here.

Then, from the depths of the darkness, it emerged.

A Black Knight strode forth, clad in jagged obsidian armor, each plate etched with runes of an unknown era.

The helm upon its head concealed its features, yet from within its abyssal depths, two burning crimson slits peered through the void—eyes that had witnessed countless epochs of destruction.

An unspeakable aura radiated from its towering frame.

Not the mere might of a warrior, but an existence that had long transcended the limits of mortality. It was the embodiment of death, an eternal warden of the abyss.

And then—it raised its hand.

A colossal abyssal palm, vast beyond measure, materialized above his head.

It was darkness incarnate. A void so absolute that even the surrounding blackness seemed pale in comparison.

It descended slowly, yet with an inevitability that sent dread coursing through his veins. He could do nothing. He could not run. He could not struggle. He was less than a speck of dust before it.

The moment the abyssal hand neared, his mind shattered beneath the pressure of its existence.

Then—

"Wake up, Mortal"

A voice vast as the Heavens and deep as the Nine Hells thundered through the abyss.

A sound not meant for mortal ears.

A decree not meant for the weak.

Gu Dao's eyes snapped open.

"AHH!"

His scream tore through the stillness of the classroom. His body jerked upright, knocking his chair backward with a loud crash.

His hands clawed at his chest, as though suffocating from the presence that had haunted him. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his heart pounding like a war drum.

The world around him blurred, his vision flickering between reality and nightmare.

The remnants of the abyss still clung to him, its suffocating presence refusing to let go.

The classroom had gone silent.

Dozens of eyes turned toward him. The teacher, his classmates—each of them staring, their faces painted with confusion and concern.

"Gu Dao, are you okay?" someone asked hesitantly.

He did not respond.

The storm outside raged on, its winds howling through the corridors of the academy.

But deep within his soul, the echo of that voice—the decree of an ancient being—still reverberated.

"Gu Dao, are you alright?"

The speaker was a plump young man seated beside him, his round face filled with worry. His name was Zhao Fan, Gu Dao's best friend.

Gu Dao wiped the cold sweat from his brow, forcing a bitter smile. "I'm fine."

But his hands trembled as he clenched his sleeves. His breath was still uneven, and his heart pounded as if it had yet to return from that abyssal nightmare.

The terrifying presence of that Black Creature, the suffocating weight of that abyssal hand—it still lingered, its imprint burned into his soul.

Lifting his gaze, he turned toward the teacher. "Sir, may I leave early? I don't think I can continue today."

The teacher studied him for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Go ahead. Be careful on your way home."

Gu Dao didn't hesitate. Grabbing his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and strode toward the door.

As he stepped past the rows of desks, whispers filled the air.

"What happened to him?"

"Did he have a nightmare?"

"He screamed like he saw a ghost…"

Ignoring their hushed voices, Gu Dao exited the classroom.

Yet, even as he walked down the empty corridor, his mind remained trapped in the lingering echoes of that abyss.

This wasn't the first time.

For years now, Gu Dao had been plagued by these nightmares—visions of infinite darkness, twisted landscapes, and beings far beyond mortal understanding.

Sometimes, he saw towering figures engaged in battles that shattered the heavens. Other times, it was whispers—unintelligible murmurs creeping into his soul, as if something was calling out to him from beyond reality.

But no matter how many times he woke up, drenched in sweat and consumed by fear, the answers eluded him.

He had no idea what was happening to him.

...

Gu Dao was an orphan.

He had no memories of his parents, no recollection of where he came from.

All he knew was that he had grown up in Clearwater Orphanage, a small, aging charity home on the outskirts of Tianshui City, a bustling metropolis in the heart of Xiang Country.

Life in the orphanage had been neither good nor bad.

It was a place where children abandoned by the world gathered, relying on the kindness of strangers for survival.

The caretakers were strict, but they weren't cruel. The food was simple, but it was enough to keep them alive.

And yet, even among the other orphans, Gu Dao had always felt… different.

Perhaps it was because of these dreams.

Even as a child in Clearwater Orphanage, he never played with the other kids.

While the other children chased one another, their laughter echoing in the orphanage courtyard, Gu Dao sat beneath the old elm tree, watching them in silence.

He was calm—too calm for a child his age.

When others cried over scraped knees, he merely frowned. When fights broke out over stolen toys, he remained indifferent, never once joining in the chaos.

He never sought companionship, nor did he push others away.

The caretakers often whispered about him.

"This child… he never cries, never causes trouble."

"He's too quiet… almost unnatural."

"He watches people—not with curiosity, but like he's studying them"

It wasn't that he lacked emotions. He simply understood, even at a young age, that emotions could be dangerous.

From a Young age, he learned three things.

To be too happy was to invite disappointment.

To be too sad was to reveal weakness.

To be too trusting was to open oneself to betrayal.

And so, Gu Dao learned to observe. To analyze. To remain cautious.

Over time, this trait became second nature, shaping him into someone who never acted impulsively.

His mind always weighed the pros and cons of every action, considering every possibility before making a move.

As time passed, Gu Dao grew into the young man who now walked through Tianshui First High School—a world apart from the elite students around him.

On a scholarship, he was an outsider, a token gesture for the wealthy to flaunt their generosity.

A handful of orphans and underprivileged students were selected each year, given the privilege of studying among society's elite.

He neither sought acceptance nor rejected his place among them.

To his teachers, he was merely a quiet, rational student.

To his Classmates, He interacted with them like everyone else, blending into the daily rhythms of school life without drawing any special attention to himself.

And to himself…

He was nothing more than a spectator—watching, observing, waiting.

For what?

Even he did not know.

...