Darkness.
No sky. No ground. Only an endless void, stripped bare of existence itself. Yan Zhi opened his eyes to find himself standing in that abyss.
Beneath his feet stretched a surface like liquid shadow. Each step sent ripples outward, but the echoes never returned. The only sound was a faint pulse—steady, unrelenting. Not from his heart… but from the darkness itself.
"Where… am I?" he whispered.
The answer came.
At first, it was a whisper brushing against his ear:
—"You were never alone."
Then the voices shifted, sharper, cutting deeper. His father's voice, cold and condemning:
—"You were a failure from the beginning. Unworthy of my bloodline."
The voices of his sect brothers followed, dripping with mockery:
—"You've always been dead weight. Even shadows loathe you."
And then the one that hollowed his chest—the voice of Lian, tender, almost sweet:
—"You truly trusted me, Yan Zhi? How easy it was to deceive you."
His breath faltered. "No… stop… that's not me!"
But the more he denied it, the clearer they became. The void erupted into visions: his father turning away, his sect raising their blades, Lian smiling as her sword pierced through his heart.
Yan Zhi collapsed to his knees, clutching his skull, his body trembling. Blood welled at the corner of his lips.
"Enough!" he roared.
And then—something burst from his chest. Black cracks spread outward, coiling into chains of shadow. They wrapped around his arms and legs, plunging into the ground beneath his feet.
His eyes widened. "What… what is this?"
The voice answered, no longer fragmented, but whole—deep, resonant, merciless:
—"This is the prison you built yourself. The more you deny me, the tighter I bind you."
The chains pulled taut. His breath hitched. He felt his very soul being dragged into the abyss.
But in the suffocating grip of despair, a single realization took root. He could resist until he broke… or he could turn and face it.
Grinding his teeth, Yan Zhi lowered his head and whispered between ragged breaths:
"If you are part of me… then I will control you. Not the other way around."
The void fell silent. The chains stilled.
And then—laughter. Low, quiet, curling from every direction. Not mockery, but amusement.
—"Interesting. Let's see… who controls whom."
The chains remained, coiled tight around his body. But this time, he stood.
His gaze cut into the abyss—cold, unyielding.
For the first time, Yan Zhi was no longer merely a victim of his shadow.
He had become its challenger.
The darkness pulsed around him, waiting, patient—like a beast savoring the beginning of a hunt.
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