Alen screamed until his voice was raw.
He clawed at the broken floor, pounding it until his knuckles split open. Blood dripped into the cracks, staining the ruined stones.
"This is a curse!" he roared. "Why… why me?!"
For six months, he lived like that.
Six months of screaming, of punching stone until his hands were nothing but torn flesh. Six months of refusing to believe this world was real. He thought it was all an illusion, a punishment crafted for him alone.
But the blood was real. The pain was real. And when his fists could break stone yet not break the nightmare, he finally understood this was no dream.
At that moment, the voice returned. The same voice he had heard on the first day.
Ding!
System Recovery Complete.
"Reason for six-month shutdown: transferring master's soul across universes required immense energy. Recovery cycle complete.
Reviewing master's progress…
Congratulations. Passive skill acquired: Bloody Knuckle Hit. Fists now strike with sixfold power.
Congratulations. Mortal body forsaken. Advancement: Qi Refinery Realm – Stage 2.
Reminder: This body belonged to the Sect Master of the Heaven Breaker Sect. His dream is now yours. Build his sect into the strongest under heaven."
Alen laughed bitterly. "Dream? You expect me to carry another man's dream? I couldn't even protect my wife. I'm no savior I'm a failure."
The system's tone shifted. Cold. Harsh.
Thunder cracked in the sky above, darkness shrouding the land.
"What do you think you are, master? You are not special. You are an ant one step away from being crushed. There are countless beings across the multiverse who would give anything for this chance, yet you refuse it? Pathetic."
Alen's voice dropped to a whisper. "I couldn't even protect her… my wife died in my arms…"
The system's voice boomed:
"Do you know how many lives your soul has lived? Do you know your other selves your parents, children, brothers across countless rebirths? No. Just because you do not remember does not mean they never existed.
Souls are eternal. They change forms as easily as men change clothes. This body you now hold it is yours as much as your past one was. His memories, his pain they are also yours. Look, and see."
A vision burned into Alen's mind.
The Night of Slaughter
Rain hammered the stone courtyards of the Heaven Breakers. Thunder roared, but louder still were the screams.
Blades flashed through the storm. The sect became a slaughterhouse. Warriors, servants, children none were spared.
A boy of four huddled beneath the altar, clutching his sister's pendant. His wide eyes reflected hell.
He saw his father roar defiance, only to fall beneath a dozen spears. He saw his mother's radiant wings of light shatter as black arrows pierced her chest. His siblings fought bravely, but their heads rolled in the mud, lifeless eyes staring at him.
The killers laughed.
"Leave the boy," their leader sneered. "He has no talent. Weak. Let him live and let him drown in despair. Death would be too kind."
Lightning split the sky, revealing rivers of blood. The rain turned crimson.
And so the boy was spared not by mercy, but by cruelty.
The vision faded. Alen's body trembled as tears streamed down his face.
The system's voice whispered:
"Now tell me, master was your wife's death truly cruelty? She died in your arms, but her last words were not hatred. She was at peace. She wanted you to live. That is a mercy far greater than what your other half endured."
Alen remembered her words "It wasn't your fault."
Slowly, his fists clenched.
"My other half… he was strong. He carried his despair and turned it into strength. While I drowned in weakness."
Alen looked up at the storm, his eyes burning.
"We share the same name. The same soul. From now on, his dream will be my dream. His enemies will be my enemies. I will raise this sect to the heavens… and I will take revenge for us both."