Silence.
Not the kind that soothes, but the kind that suffocates—pressing upon the soul until every breath felt like molten iron filling the lungs.
Before Li Shen, Mei Lin, and Zhao Wei, the Altar of Legacy rose in all its terrible majesty. Its surface gleamed with holy golden light, yet around it, shadows writhed, twisting like living serpents. Two forces—Light and Darkness—intertwined endlessly, like eternal dragons locked in a struggle, neither submitting nor prevailing.
Ancient runes carved upon the altar ignited one by one, casting an eerie glow. The air grew heavy with an ancient power, whispering to their souls: this was no mere stone, but a relic from a time before history was ever written.
Then, a voice—ancient, boundless—thundered through the chamber, making their very hearts quiver:
"Three paths converge. Only one shall be set. Light, Darkness, or Hatred."
The ground trembled. Before the altar, three pathways opened.
The first, bathed in golden radiance, rejected all shadows.
The second, swallowed in pure darkness, devoured even the faintest glimmer of light.
The third, straight ahead, pulsed with crimson mist—throbbing like fresh blood, its aura of hatred stabbing into the heart.
The three stopped at the threshold.
Zhao Wei was the first to laugh—mad, broken laughter that echoed across the sacred hall. Black flames coiled around him, and his crimson eyes blazed with unrestrained hunger. "Hahaha! Finally! The world itself acknowledges my path! The path of hatred belongs to me! With this power, I will crush everything—and even this altar shall bow to me!"
Mei Lin lifted her sword. Its trembling glow cast her face in sharp relief—determined, yet laced with fear. "Li Shen…" her voice quavered, "if this altar forces us to choose, the world itself will tremble with the result. I am not afraid for myself… I am afraid for what the world will become."
Li Shen stood in silence. His chest rose and fell, his blood boiled. Inside him, light and darkness clashed violently, tearing at his body, splitting his mind.
Voices screamed within:
"Choose me! Let darkness reign! You will be invincible!"
"No! Choose light! Be the shield, protect, do not destroy!"
The voices thundered, so loud his ears bled. His knees threatened to buckle, but he clenched his teeth, enduring the torment. His eyes burned—not with light, not with shadow, but with his own unyielding flame.
"I am not your puppet…" he growled, every word edged with defiance, "…I will carve my own path!"
He stepped forward. The sound of his footfall echoed like thunder, shaking the altar itself. Ancient runes flared brighter, filling the air with whispers—like the prayers of countless souls long dead.
Mei Lin inhaled sharply, then followed. Golden light surged around her, forming faint wings upon her back. The altar seemed to recognize her bloodline, resonating with her presence.
Zhao Wei strode into his chosen path without hesitation. Crimson mist swallowed him whole, birthing monstrous hands that clawed at his body. Instead of resisting, Zhao Wei welcomed them, his laughter rising into madness. "Yes! Hatred is my path! My destiny!"
Then, the world shattered.
Boom!
The three paths sealed. The chamber convulsed. Statues of light and shadow cracked, and in a blinding flash, Li Shen, Mei Lin, and Zhao Wei were torn apart—each thrust into a separate trial.
---
🌑 Li Shen plunged into an endless void.
Half of it blazed with golden radiance, half drowned in utter blackness.
From the light stepped forth a figure—it was Li Shen himself, eyes glowing gold, face serene, radiating purity. From the darkness came another—his shadow, with abyssal eyes and a twisted smile, brimming with hatred and power.
Their voices pierced his soul, overlapping, suffocating:
"Choose me."
"Choose me."
Li Shen staggered. His flesh tore under the opposing pulls, blood dripping from his lips. His chest trembled as though it would explode. Yet even in agony, the fire in his eyes refused to dim.
---
☀ Mei Lin found herself in a boundless meadow of white blossoms, glowing softly under a radiant sky. The air carried the scent of divinity. At the center stood a colossal statue of a woman in golden robes—identical to the figure carved into the altar.
The statue's lips moved, her voice gentle yet thunderous:
"My blood runs within you, child. But tell me—can your heart withstand light that must remain pure? Or will you crumble, blinded by its brilliance?"
Mei Lin's breath hitched. Tears welled up unbidden, streaming down her face. That voice—it carried a warmth, a longing—like the voice of a mother she had never known.
---
🔥 Zhao Wei was cast into a world drenched in crimson. The ground was a sea of corpses, their lifeless eyes staring straight into his soul. Faces of friends, rivals, even family—twisted with accusation and betrayal.
Whispers cut into his mind:
"You always lose. You always envy. You are nothing but a shadow to the strong."
"Kill them all. Burn everything. Only then will you be free."
Zhao Wei clutched his head, screaming in torment. Then, suddenly, he laughed—wild, broken, with tears of blood streaming down his cheeks. "Yes! I'll kill them all! I'll burn this world to ash! That is my path!"
---
Back in reality, the altar trembled violently. Golden radiance, shadowed abyss, and crimson hatred clashed like titans. The very air howled.
The ancient voice roared once more, shaking heaven and earth:
"Only one path shall be set. Light, Darkness, or Hatred. Their choice will reshape the destiny of this world."
And within their separate trials, Li Shen, Mei Lin, and Zhao Wei stood upon the edge.
The true test had just begun.