The greenstone bridge beneath his feet slowly crumbled.
Xiao Chen stood still as the mist before him quietly parted.
From the depths of the clouds,
A towering silhouette rose like a phantom—
A seven-tiered obsidian tower,
Utterly out of place with the world around it.
As he stepped from the mist,
A tremor ran through his heart.
The black tower did not feel like a structure of reality—
But a witness of the dead,
Transcending time and space.
Xiao Chen gazed silently.
A flood of emotions surged within him—
Reverence, dread,
And a strange, fated pull.
In that moment,
He knew—
His fate had been entwined with this tower
Since the moment he took his first step.
Outside the tower,
Clouds churned like a sea.
Blue-gray cascades flowed across the void,
As if sending off souls yet to rest.
The tower hovered beneath the heavens.
Its body was pitch black,
Veined with cracks that glowed faintly—
Like decaying bones that refused to die.
From those fissures,
Wisps of black mist seeped out,
Twisting like serpents,
Whispering like the resentful dead.
It was the wail of all spirits.
The lingering obsessions of the fallen.
The tower gate was sealed—
Like the eyes of the dead.
Dark, lifeless,
Yet staring straight into the soul.
Though unopened,
Its pressure surged outward,
As if judging those who dared approach.
The Tower Guide walked beside Xiao Chen,
His voice unusually solemn, tinged with weariness:
"You've reached the gate of the Fate-Marked Tower.
The Seal of Fate will awaken the tower.
From here on—
No one can walk with you."
He looked deeply at Xiao Chen—
As if sending him off,
Or closing a chapter of the past.
With a sweep of his sleeve,
He stepped aside.
Xiao Chen raised his palm,
And gently pressed the life-mark against the gate.
In that instant,
The seal pulsed violently—
Like a heartbeat.
A surge of silver light burst from his palm,
Striking the center of the gate.
A faint thread of light connected the mark and the gate—
Like veins of fate echoing,
Their energies slowly merging.
A thunderous roar echoed from deep within the tower—
Like an ancient beast stirring.
The entire structure trembled.
Each tier let out a low hum—
As if awakening.
The gate cracked open.
A stream of black mist spilled out—
Like the fingers of night,
Brushing silently across his face.
As the mist churned,
Xiao Chen's figure blurred.
He did not look back.
He stepped forward in silence—
And vanished into the endless dark.
The mist rolled.
Xiao Chen felt the ground beneath him sink—
As if pulled into a valley of shadows.
When his vision returned,
He stood within the first floor of the tower.
The interior was like another world.
Dark as ink.
Boundless.
Silent.
Only a few floating fragments of stone hovered in the air—
Like broken steps,
Barely forming a path into the unknown.
The space was cold.
Still.
Dead.
As Xiao Chen took his first step,
The stone beneath him shattered.
A roar echoed from the depths of the tower—
Like ten thousand ghosts wailing.
It shook his ears with pain.
In an instant,
Dense black mist surged like a tide,
Swallowing the space whole.
It engulfed him completely—
And he realized—
This was only the beginning
Of the illusion.
The world collapsed into void.
His senses unraveled.
Sight vanished.
Sound faded.
Even warmth began to drain from his body.
Xiao Chen instinctively clutched the fractured seal in his palm.
His throat moved—
But no sound came out.
In that moment,
An invisible force hooked into his thoughts,
Dragging him deep into the spiritual realm.
No light.
No direction.
Only whispers—
Not of this world—
Echoing at the edges of his consciousness.
Mist surged like tides.
Xiao Chen's figure slowly emerged
In a tranquil forest.
The wind stirred.
Leaves danced.
The world was silent.
He stood there, stunned—
Staring at the familiar yet unfamiliar scene before him.
"Why does this place feel so familiar?
Where am I?
Why… am I here?"
He murmured,
A strange tremor rising in his heart.
Like fragments of a dream,
Gently pieced together by unseen hands.
He stepped forward,
Knowing the scene was false—
Yet unable to suppress the longing within.
Suddenly,
A gentle voice rang out—
Soft as spring wind,
So familiar it made his heart tremble:
"You've finally come back."
He turned sharply.
In the flickering light of the forest,
A woman stood.
Her shoulders trembled—
As if afraid to turn around.
As if afraid to miss him.
That figure—
Was the one he had reached for in countless dreams,
Only to watch it slip through his fingers like mist.
She turned slowly.
Her pale blue dress fluttered.
Her dark hair curled softly.
Her eyes shimmered like starlight in dew.
Her lips held a gentle smile—
But deep within her gaze—
Lay a feeling too heavy to meet.
Like memory.
Like abyss.
She stepped closer.
Her voice was soft—
Like clouds whispering.
Like a dream left unfinished:
"It's safe here.
We can stay.
You don't have to hurt anymore.
You don't have to climb that cursed tower.
Just stay with me.
Everything you want is here…
Please?"
Her tone was pleading—
As if afraid to lose him again.
She drew nearer—
Wrapping his world in her presence.
Xiao Chen's gaze began to blur.
His spirit felt wrapped in warmth,
Sinking deeper.
A thought surfaced—
If he could stay here…
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
She reached out,
Her hand moving toward his chest.
Her touch—
Seemed gentle.
But the moment it met his skin—
It was ice.
Bone-deep cold.
Not warmth.
But void.
Xiao Chen's eyes sharpened.
This wasn't her.
He shut his eyes.
Bit down hard on his tongue.
Blood burst in his mouth.
His eyes snapped open.
The dreamlike forest had turned to ash—
A field of gray.
The woman's figure dissolved—
Splitting into countless shadowy forms,
Whispering endlessly:
"Why didn't you stay…
We could've been together forever…"
"You're just lonely…
Just afraid…
You entered the Fate-Marked Tower
Only to chase a dream that can never be…"
"You'll regret this…"
Xiao Chen stared at the phantoms—
Not with fear.
But with a sorrow
He could not name.
"I'm sorry…
I don't know who you are.
But I know—
The one I'm searching for…
Isn't you."
The phantoms let out one final shriek—
A sound that tore through the space,
Then faded.
Only one voice lingered,
Soft as sorrow,
Sharp as regret:
"I thought… you would stay…"
The sound receded,
Like the tide pulling away.
The mist shattered.
The forest and its gentle illusion collapsed with it.
Xiao Chen stood amidst the broken dreamscape.
His chest ached—
Not from injury,
But from the guilt of having nearly chosen to forget.
He stared silently at the crumbling illusion.
His heart felt stitched together—
Only to be torn again.
He didn't know if that figure had ever truly existed.
Didn't know who she was.
But he knew—
If he had hesitated in that moment,
He would no longer be himself.
From the void,
An ancient voice echoed:
"The beginning of fate
Is the trial of the heart.
Only those who discern their true desire
And break illusion
May walk the path."
A stone tablet slowly emerged,
Etched with ancient script:
"Dreambound Delirium—
Let none enter with a wavering heart."
A new staircase appeared,
Leading deeper into the trial.
Thick mist rose like walls,
Severing the tower from heaven and earth.
Outside the tower,
The guards stood in silence.
Each one handpicked by Shen Daoheng—
Trusted, vigilant,
Gripping soul-binding chains,
Eyes fixed on the tower's entrance.
As if awaiting a command.
In the shadows of distant trees,
A figure stood quietly.
His cloak fluttered.
His aura cold.
"He's inside?"
Shen Daoheng's voice was low,
His gaze locked on the mist-shrouded tower.
"Yes, Palace Lord.
No signs of disturbance—
But… the mist is thirty percent thicker than expected."
Shen Daoheng's brow furrowed.
He murmured:
"The variables within the tower…
More than I anticipated.
Then all the more reason—
He must not come out."
He turned.
Issued his command:
"Zhongdao.
Seal all exits of the mist domain.
Lay the spirit stones.
If he breaks the tower—
Strike immediately.
Sever his fate."
Shi Zhongdao bowed:
"Understood."