"Heaven Suppression Axe!"
The roar was so vast it seemed to ripple through countless planes at once, echoing across the endless void.
Entire constellations trembled at the force of that cry, stars flaring and then collapsing into silence as the weight of the words bent the cosmos itself.
Then came the strike.
A single, devastating swing cleaved through eternity.
Space fractured like brittle glass, and in that terrible moment, an immortal's head was cast adrift in the void.
His body floated lifelessly, yet his face bore not the horror of defeat, but the serenity of acceptance.
"It was worthy… to die by your hand, fellow Daoist," he said, his voice trembling yet resolute. "A good death."
The immortal smiled one last time before his eyes closed forever, his essence dissolving into motes of light that scattered like falling stars across the void.
"Hah…"
The one who had struck the final blow gasped for breath.
His body was ruined, mangled beyond recognition.
All four limbs were gone, save for a single arm that still clung stubbornly to the weapon responsible for the impossible feat.
That arm gripped the wooden axe, its surface drenched in immortal blood.
The ancient weapon pulsed with a dreadful light, as though it too roared in triumph, declaring its supremacy to the multiverse.
Once plain and unremarkable, it now radiated an aura so terrifying that lesser realms collapsed upon sensing its existence.
The Heaven Suppression Axe had done what was believed unattainable—it had slain an immortal in fair combat.
The survivor's lips curled into a faint, sorrowful smile.
Victory was his, but its cost had hollowed him out.
He drifted in silence, surrounded by the skeletal remains of what was once a thriving universe.
Stars had burst into cinders, suns had collapsed into hungry voids, and entire galaxies were reduced to dust.
His heart clenched as memories flashed before him—friends who had laughed with him under the twin moons of his homeworld, family whose warmth had once been his anchor.
All gone. Burned away in the cataclysm of this battle.
One universe, lost among the endless realities of the multiverse.
To outsiders, it was a mere speck erased from existence. But to him… it was everything.
The survivor raised the axe weakly, his remaining arm trembling as immortal blood dripped into the void.
He could feel the weapon's resonance, as though it mourned with him.
For every victory, there was a price.
And as he floated in the silence, a single thought etched itself into his mind, heavier than the weight of the destroyed cosmos around him:
Was this truly worth it?
The void gave no answer.
Only the lonely heartbeat of a broken survivor and the ominous glow of the Heaven Suppression Axe remained.
"I don't have much time left," the man whispered, his lone voice echoing across the desolate void.
His chest rose and fell unevenly, his remaining arm trembling as though even lifting it required more strength than his broken body could give.
Yet his gaze remained steady, sharp as ever, filled with unyielding will.
He shook his head slowly, banishing hesitation.
No time. No regrets. It must be done.
With a strained gesture, he extended his palm, and the corpse of the fallen immortal dissolved into streams of light before vanishing into his soul space.
Even in death, the body of an immortal was a treasure that could shake the balance of the multiverse.
He could not leave it to be defiled by scavengers.
Next, he pressed his palm to the emptiness around him, channeling every drop of essence he still held.
His voice rang out, louder than the collapse of stars:
"Nine Heavens Immortal Lock Formation!"
The void blazed in response.
From his body surged countless runes, glowing like shards of suns.
They burst outward in rainbow brilliance, weaving themselves into radiant strands that crossed the void like a cosmic spiderweb.
Thread upon thread stretched farther than sight, binding broken space, repairing cracks, and sealing away scars left by their apocalyptic battle.
Colors unseen by mortal eyes painted the emptiness.
Each strand thrummed with ancient power, etching itself into the very fabric of reality.
Soon, an endless lattice of divine light encompassed the multiverse, a barrier that he hoped no one could ever pierce.
The man swayed, his face pale as bone, but a small smile formed.
"This… should be enough. For a time."
He took a deep, ragged breath.
His consciousness wavered, exhaustion gnawed at his soul, and every heartbeat brought him closer to collapse.
He knew the truth—he had burned his essence, his future, his life itself to fuel the lock.
There would be no recovery, no rebirth, no reincarnation. This was the end.
Yet he felt no fear. No bitterness. Only peace.
He had lived longer than worlds endured, trillions of years woven into the very essence of eternity.
He had carried his quest through endless realms, shouldered burdens no other dared, and at last… he had finished it.
The immortal was dead. The multiverse had a reprieve. His vow was fulfilled.
A final exhale slipped from his lips.
"At last… rest."
His figure stilled, wounds unhealed, body broken, and yet he did not crumble into dust.
He remained as he was, suspended in the silent void, an unmoving statue of sacrifice.
The axe still glimmered faintly in his grip, immortal blood staining its wooden surface like a divine sigil.
In his last breath, he too took the axe inside his soul space.
Time began to lose meaning.
A thousand years passed. Then ten thousand. Then a billion.
Civilizations rose, empires flourished, and stars were born and died, yet through it all, his silhouette remained, untouched and uncorrupted, floating at the heart of the sealed void.
Epochs, eras, and eons slipped away like grains of sand, and still this universe remained lifeless, an empty husk adrift in the endless sea of the multiverse.
Time itself seemed to forget this place, leaving only silence and the unmoving figure of the man who had given everything to seal it.
Then, one day—after an untold span of years beyond measure—something stirred.
Ding!
A single, crystalline chime rang out across the void, so pure and sharp that it seemed to pierce through layers of time and space.
At the core of the multiverse, a light was born. Brilliant and formless, it pulsed once… twice… and then descended like a falling star.
It found him.
The radiance sank into the broken figure of the man who had floated, unmoving, for ages beyond reckoning.
His corpse—long thought lost to eternity—absorbed the light.
Slowly, impossibly, the torn flesh began to knit together.
Shredded veins and shattered bones fused whole.
His chest, once still, began to tremble with the faintest stirrings of breath.
Limbs that had been lost were reforged, restored as though time itself had been rewritten.
Eons more trickled past, the light continuing its mysterious work, until at last, the man's eyes fluttered open.
They were not the eyes of a corpse, but of one who lived once more—clear, sharp, and filled with confusion.
"I'm alive?" he whispered, voice hoarse with disuse, though the void around him had no answer.