The Infinite Void stretched endlessly, dark and silent, yet alive with countless hidden potentials. Worlds floated through the darkness like scattered jewels, each with its own unique rhythm. Gods of fire, water, dreams, desire, life, death, and illusions already reigned over their realms, glowing with the faith of their believers. Every believer empowered their god; every doubt weakened them.
Far in the Void, a young man appeared, stepping into a world that resembled a medieval age. His hair shimmered like liquid light, colored in every shade of the rainbow. His eyes were hidden behind a white eyepatch, glimmering faintly in the sun. His robes were divided perfectly down the middle—half black, half white—and he radiated a serene, timeless authority, like the immortals described in ancient myths. To any ordinary observer, he was simply a human.
This was Kami V. (Void) Tao, the Lord of Reincarnation. Yet here, he was completely mortal. He had no powers, no godly influence, no Circle activated. Tao was only as strong as any twenty-year-old man in this world, moving slowly across hills and plains. Villages were 50 to 100 kilometers apart, and the world was vast. Patience and observation were essential.
Tao's first goal was simple yet profound: to understand mortals, their desires, and the sparks of faith that might one day follow him. He could not force belief or take power; he could only observe. The Circle behind him remained dormant, empty of power, waiting silently until believers eventually died and were bound to it. For now, he walked as a mortal among mortals.
He paused on a hilltop overlooking the rolling plains. Smoke rose lazily from chimneys in distant villages. Farmers tilled their fields, merchants arranged goods, children ran and laughed, and blacksmiths hammered glowing iron. Tao observed every detail. The sound of the wind through wheat, the faint cries of animals, the rhythm of labor—each was a lesson in mortal life.
He noticed the smallest desires: a child longing to climb a tree, a farmer hoping for rain, a young woman dreaming of a better life. Each tiny spark of hope and wish was a thread in the fabric of mortal faith. Tao did not interfere. He did not demonstrate power or command attention. He existed quietly, blending with the land, learning.
Powerful beings already had established beliefs. If they followed another god, they would have to start from scratch to gain Tao's favor. Therefore, Tao focused on the weak and the untested. Fragile faith could be nurtured. Such mortals were often hidden in villages, living ordinary lives. This world's medieval villages were the perfect places to study.
Tao rested under a tree, feeling the breeze ripple through his rainbow hair. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening. The Infinite Void had rules he had to respect. Mortals level 7 and below could not survive here—they would die instantly. Mortals level 8 and above could endure longer periods, gradually adapting. Gods existed indefinitely. Tao was mortal but unique: a hidden spark allowed him to survive where ordinary mortals would perish.
He meditated on these rules, understanding slowly how the universe worked. Faith fueled gods. Desires fueled mortals. Only when mortals truly believed could Tao eventually channel their power. For now, the study of desires was enough.
He continued walking, moving between distant forests and hills. Each day brought new observations: how villagers greeted each other, how they struggled, what small dreams drove them. Tao noted the patterns carefully. A merchant's subtle hope for profit, a child's yearning for adventure, a blacksmith's wish for skill—they were all lessons. He recorded them silently in his mind.
As dusk fell, Tao climbed another hill to watch the horizon. Villages glowed softly in the fading light. He felt no hunger for power yet; he felt only curiosity, patience, and careful attention. The Circle remained dormant, the Infinite Void stretched endlessly, and Tao walked as a mortal, powerless but aware.
For the first time, he spoke his own name aloud:
"My name is Tao."
A simple declaration, yet in the vast universe, it was a spark of potential. One day, this name would grow into faith. For now, it was a promise—to observe, to learn, and to prepare.
Tao had no power beyond that of a mortal, yet the journey had begun. Every step, every observation, every silent lesson from the villagers and the world itself was the first move toward a destiny that stretched beyond the Infinite Void.
He was mortal, powerless, patient. And he had begun the first chapter of desire.