At the heart of the Crucible—where time warped and bled into infinity—stood Long Tian.
He was alone.
A broken sovereign crowned with shattered halos, like fragments of a fallen constellation suspended around his head. His eyes were hollow pools, reflecting the void he had embraced.
Wang Chung approached, his blade igniting in cold blue flame, the sovereign fire answering the unspoken storm in his soul.
Long Tian's voice was soft, almost mournful.
> "You finally understand."
Wang Chung's grip tightened.
> "To protect the many… we must let go of the one."
His words carried the weight of unbearable sacrifice.
Wang Chung's voice cracked with accusation.
> "You stole her soul."
Long Tian looked away, a shadow passing over his features.
> "I preserved it."
> "I spared her from the chaos to come—the endless unraveling of all existence."
> "I made her eternal."
> "And through her… everything will survive."
Wang Chung's flames flickered, conflicted fury blazing in his eyes.
> "You call this mercy?"
Long Tian's voice broke.
> "No."
Tears welled—silver against the darkness.
> "I call it atonement."
A beat passed, heavy with all that remained unspoken.
Then Long Tian lowered his guard.
> "She asked me to protect you."
> "Even after everything."
His voice softened to a whisper.
> "So… strike me down, brother. End this."
Wang Chung's heart clenched.
But he could not.
Instead, he lifted his blade, eyes locked onto Long Tian's.
> "No."
> "Fight me."
> "Not for power."
> "Not for vengeance."
> "But for truth."
The first clash of steel echoed like thunder across the Crucible's shattered realms.
They were no longer gods or monsters.
No longer sovereign and fallen.
They were brothers.
Two souls once bound by dreams, broken by fate, struggling to find their way back through the ruins.
Every strike shattered a false world—illusions of what might have been, or could never be.
Every parry broke a lie—lies told to themselves, lies woven by the Void Sovereign's will.
The Crucible trembled.
Time twisted.
And somewhere deep within its core, Yu Meilan's fragile light flickered—waiting for the final thread to be woven.