Chapter 1: The Sovereign's First Yawn
The universe was ending. Again.
Kael Veynar sighed, a long, suffering sound that was swallowed by the infinite scream of tearing reality. He tumbled through the kaleidoscopic chaos of the Dimensional Drift—a tempest of shattering glaciers, burning cities, and fragmented skies.
[Spatial Integrity: Critical Failure.] [Dimensional Layer: Unstable.] [Proximity Alert: Apex Predator-Class Entity Detected.]
An azure screen, calm and utterly at odds with the apocalypse around him, floated in his vision. It was the Omnipotent Drift Interface. His new, and currently very annoying, constant companion.
Tumbling beside him was a chunk of a dead star. Ahead of him, a creature of shimmering light and shadow, so vast its body coiled through entire dead dimensions, opened a maw that could swallow suns. It was hungry. He was the nearest snack.
A normal person would feel terror. A hero would feel determination. Kael Veynar felt… profoundly put upon.
Just my luck, he thought, his mind a placid lake in the heart of a hurricane. I was having a perfectly good nap. Now this.
[Trajectory Analysis: Collision in 9.2 seconds.] [Projected Survival Probability: 0.0001%] [Suggestion: Panic.]
"Unhelpful," Kael muttered, his voice barely a whisper yet perfectly clear in the vacuum.
His grey eyes, usually heavy-lidded with a boredom so deep it was philosophical, now flickered with a cold, analytical light. He wasn't seeing the monster. He was reading the data.
The O.D.I. painted the chaos in lines of logic. Fractures in reality glowed azure. The predator's path was a simple, predictable equation of consumption. And there, tumbling past him, was a shard of crystallized void—a piece of a broken dimension, sharp enough to cut through fate.
[Object: Dimensional Shard.] [Proposed Utilization: 89% probability of altering user trajectory by 3.4 degrees. 11% probability of molecular dispersal.]
Eleven percent chance of obliteration. Marginally better odds than the alternative.
It would require a precise impact. A calculation of spin, velocity, and the exact point of contact. For anyone else, an impossible task in a maelstrom of insane physics.
For Kael, it was a mildly interesting math problem.
He didn't thrash. He didn't scream. He simply shifted his weight, a minuscule adjustment of his shoulder that altered his tumble by a fraction of a degree. He was a leaf placing itself perfectly in the path of a specific gust of wind.
The void-shard sliced past his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood that instantly crystallized. The impact was微不足道 (wēi bù zú dào - insignificant), a mere nudge.
But in the math of infinity, a nudge was all it took.
His trajectory curved. He was no longer flying into the creature's mouth but towards a crumbling archway of stone—a lone fragment of a temple to a forgotten god—that hung in the void.
The Apex Predator roared. The sound was not sound but a wave of pure psychic annihilation meant to snuff out his consciousness. The O.D.I. flared red.
[Psionic Assault Detected. Mental Fortitude: Insufficient.] [Emergency Protocol Activated.] [Conceptual Authority Available: Severing.]
Kael didn't fight the wave. He didn't try to block it. That would require effort.
Instead, he looked at the incoming wave of nothingness and did what came most naturally to him. He found the simplest, most elegant, and laziest solution.
In his mind, he pictured a single, infinitely sharp line.
And he severed the attack from its source.
It wasn't blocked or deflected. It was unmade. The psychic wave simply ceased to exist halfway between the beast and him. The creature recoiled, a visible, impossible scar of null energy across its luminous form. For the first time in its eons of existence, something had not just hurt it, but had edited it out of reality.
It hesitated, confusion in its star-filled eyes.
That hesitation was all the invitation Kael needed. He shot through the stone archway. There was a sensation of being folded through a keyhole, a flash of blinding white—
—and then the soft thud of a body landing on damp earth.
Silence. The smell of rain and pine. The gentle glow of bioluminescent leaves under a twin-mooned sky.
Kael lay on his back, staring up at the alien canopy. He took a deep, bored breath.
[Dimensional Transition Complete. Location: Verdant Prime. Qi Density: Medium-High.] [User Condition: Acceptable.] [Welcome, Drifter.]
"Finally," he whispered to the leaves. "Quiet."
A new sound ruined it. The clash of steel. Panicked shouts. A girl's voice, tight with fear and defiance.
"Stay back! This Spirit-Blossom is property of the Astral Verdant Academy!"
A cruel laugh. "And we're the bandits who are about to inherit it!"
Kael closed his eyes. More problems. More effort required.
He pushed himself to his feet with a groan that spoke of immense inconvenience and leaned against a tree, peering into a nearby clearing.
The scene was simple: one silver-haired girl in fine but torn robes, holding a saber with shaking hands. Three thugs with crude axes and greedy eyes.
The O.D.I. went to work.
[Combat Simulation Initiated...] [Simulation 1: Direct Intervention. Survival Probability: 12%. Conclusion: Inefficient.] [Simulation 2: Vocal Distraction. Survival Probability: 43%. Conclusion: Requires social energy. Sub-optimal.] [Simulation 3: Environmental Manipulation. See highlighted fracture.]
His eyes followed a faint, shimmering line only he could see. It ran through a rotten log one of the thugs was standing near. A tiny, unstable flaw in the world.
A solution that required no strength, no talking. Just a precise application of force.
He bent down, picked up a single, smooth stone. The lead thug raised his axe, taking a step toward the girl. "Last chance, little miss!"
Kael didn't aim at the man. He aimed at the flaw in the log.
He flicked his wrist.
The stone flew. It was not a heroic throw. It was a casual, almost dismissive motion. It struck the log with a soft thunk.
The thug snorted. "What was—?"
The fracture flared. Space itself twisted around the log with a sound like shattering glass. The man's scream was cut short as his leg was wrenched at an impossible angle, the bone snapping like a dry twig. He collapsed, his cries of pain mingling with his companions' shouts of superstitious terror.
The academy girl didn't waste her opening. Her saber became a flash of silver, disarming one thug and sending the other fleeing into the woods.
She stood panting, her eyes wide as she tried to comprehend the inexplicable miracle that had saved her. Her gaze scanned the tree line and landed on Kael.
He was still leaning against the tree, looking as if he had just witnessed the most mundane event in history. A man who had orchestrated a bandit's broken leg with the same engagement one gives to swatting a fly.
Their eyes met. Her confusion was a tangible thing. His boredom was an impenetrable wall.
He didn't ask if she was okay. He didn't give his name.
He looked at the glowing flower clutched in her hand, then at the moaning bandit, and finally back at her. A new line of text appeared in his vision.
[New Function Unlocked: 'Commerce' Subroutine.] [Item: Spirit-Blossom. Estimated Market Value: 10 Low-Grade Spirit Stones.] [Utility: Sufficient for one week of sustenance and lodging.]
A flicker of interest, the first genuine one since he'd awoken in the hellscape, finally showed in Kael's eyes.
He pointed a lazy finger at the flower.
"That," he said, his voice flat and devoid of heroism. "How much for it?"