Google_ORIGINAL

---



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.


---

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

Not the kind born from stillness, but the kind that remained after everything else had screamed itself hoarse and broken.

Jasmine stood on the edge of an unnamed cliff, wind curling around her ankles like the memory of something once warm. The sky above was bruised, torn where divine auras had ruptured space only days before.

But this place… this place did not forget.

It was not marked on maps. Not touched by sects or stories. And yet here, even the air seemed to remember what the rest of the world had buried:

That she was not born to be a Star God.

Not born to be a vessel for divine poison.

She knelt, pressing her fingers into the moss. It felt warmer than it should. Beneath her touch, the ground pulsed—not with life, but with recognition.

A single breath escaped her lips. She wasn't crying, but there was a tremble beneath her ribs, a fracture widening.

"I dreamt again," she whispered, not turning.

Yun Che approached slowly, his aura cloaked in restraint. He carried a solemn quiet—like a flame that no longer wished to burn, but still refused to fade.

"A hallway of stars," she said softly.

"And a voice saying, 'Do not look back unless you wish to see who you were before they named you.'"

But of a door made of bones, and a man with no face who called him "vessel."

And when he woke, the back of his hand had a new mark.

A crescent of silver, like a blade drawn across his soul.

Not until he knew whether it was a scar… or a summons.

Jasmine stood. Her eyes, red with old truths and tempered grief, stared across the horizon.

"We're being watched," she murmured.

"Something old. Something that didn't flinch when the Sky Poison Pearl pulsed."

A silence fell between them again—dense, and almost sacred.

In that silence, Yun Che finally spoke.

"There's a pulse in the Void. A rhythm I haven't felt since…"

He trailed off. Jasmine didn't need the end of the sentence.

The birth of power. The breaking of faith. The day the world feared them more than it feared its gods.

Far below, hidden beneath rock and root and realms, a pair of eyes opened.

They had no color. No iris. No humanity.

Across forgotten corridors of space and dusted fragments of law, its awareness swept like a tide through a wound in existence.

And across distant skies, a forgotten scripture burned itself into the stars:

'And what you loved… will cost you everything.'

The world had begun to move again, not because time dictated it—but because their presence had become a wound too large to ignore.

Because now, they both understood:

The world hadn't just tried to erase them.

It had tried to erase what made them real.

In the farthest reaches of the Eternal Void, the Mirror of Samsara trembled—

And within its depths, a shape flickered:

"Will you bleed the same way... when it's your truth that breaks?"

When the World Refused to Forget