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The world forgot Yun Che.
Not as a legend fading from memory—
But as if he never existed at all.

Betrayed not by blade or poison, but by the quiet turning of fate, Yun Che awakens beneath a crimson sky in a realm untouched by time. His name, his soul, and his destiny—unwritten.

Bound to him is a voice—Aestra, the Crimson Moon, a sealed entity born before the concept of gods or order. She is not divine. She is not demonic.
She is the forgotten flaw in Heaven’s design.

Together, they wield the Essence of Undoing—a power not to destroy... but to erase.

Now Yun Che walks the realms as a Fragment, unraveling existence one truth at a time.

  “Let the heavens tremble—not at what I am…
But at what I no longer need to be.”



This is not a tale of revenge.
This is the unmaking of reality itself.


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(ATG) Heaven's Betrayer: The Crimson Moon Reigns

Clouds hung still. The light had no source. Reality rippled like disturbed glass around the shattered remnants of the Sky-Rooted Throne Realm.

Jasmine stood barefoot on what was once an execution platform.

Ashes of divine armor and broken divine thrones littered the air like snow—each a testament to the decision the world had made… and failed to enforce.

Because there were no words left for what had just happened.

They had simply reminded the heavens of something it tried too long to forget:

And that love—real, defiant love—was the only thing the divine couldn't chain.

"I thought it would feel… heavier," Jasmine whispered.

Yun Che didn't look at her. "It does. You're just holding it better than before."

She chuckled, bitter and soft. "You always say things like that after we burn the world."

He smiled faintly. "That's because we always do."

For a long moment, it carried nothing.

Jasmine's body tensed. Her senses spread like a net. "Did you feel that?"

Yun Che nodded. "Not from the divine remnants. From… below."

He walked forward slowly, past shattered formations and splintered soul-bonds.

The ground cracked under his feet, not because it was weak—

—but because something old, older than law, stirred beneath it.

In a basin of broken marble and divine blood, something shimmered faintly.

A symbol—drawn not in ink, nor light, but in remembrance.

Etched not into the stone, but into the world's memory.

A mark left by the Heaven Punishing Ancestral Sword.

Once wielded by the divine emperor Mo E.

Once used to suppress the Evil Infant itself.

Yun Che knelt and placed his hand against the phantom blade.

Pain flooded through him—not in body, but in memory.

The blood of the Evil God within him began to boil.

And for a heartbeat, he saw something—

A woman of light, tall as mountains, with a crown of voidfire and a voice that could silence galaxies.

Jasmine caught him as he stumbled.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "Just… someone said I'm part of a wound."

He looked back at the cracked sky. "A sword wound… from the first creation."

They left the ruins that day with more than questions.

The kind of silence that spoke louder than prophecy.

Because now, they weren't just hunted by realms.

They were being watched by something before realms ever existed.

And far above, in the deepest celestial vault, the seal surrounding the Mirror of Samsara shuddered once—

—And showed the reflection of a blade.

The Sword Buried in Memory