A cold wind howled across the jagged cliffs of Skyfall Mountain. The sun, hidden behind thick clouds, cast a pale light over the rugged land where only the desperate survived.
At the edge of a crumbling cliff, a boy knelt—his body bruised, his breath ragged.
Wang Chung, age sixteen, the lowest-ranked disciple of the Falling Sky Sect, spat out blood and glared at the stone tablet before him.
> "Crippled meridians," they said.
"No future in cultivation."
He clenched his fists until blood ran down his palms. Even now, the words of Elder Jian rang in his ears like poison.
> "You're just an outer sect rat, unworthy of Qi."
But the tablet was different. Buried beneath moss and broken rock, its ancient symbols pulsed faintly as if alive. He didn't know why he had climbed to this forgotten peak. Something had pulled him here—an echo in his dreams, a voice he couldn't place.
As his fingers traced the glyphs, the stone flared. In an instant, a surge of pain slammed into his mind.
---
[Memory Seal Breach: 3%]
He collapsed.
A rush of images tore through him—galaxies burning, a black blade singing through gods, a woman screaming his name: "Wang Chung!" No—Void Sovereign.
His breathing turned shallow. He wasn't just a no-name disciple.
He had once stood atop the heavens.
And now?
> "They sealed me," he whispered, eyes widening. "Someone sealed everything."
But not completely. The tablet had cracked something open.
His hand lifted as if on instinct. He channeled his breath, just once.
> Void Palm – Fragment.
A blast of black energy erupted, shattering a nearby boulder like glass. Wang Chung staggered back, stunned.
The wind fell silent. The forest beyond the cliff trembled.
---
From the shadows, a pair of golden eyes watched him.
> "He's awakened," a voice murmured. "The heavens will stir once more"