Beyond time and space—and beyond existence itself—beings who see the end from the beginning reside.
Some watch over their own creations. Some watch their descendants and other lesser beings. Others play around with different timelines and dimensions.
One timeline, however, remains sealed by a being far greater than them all. Unlike the others—who stopped growing and lost their zeal for supremacy—this being continued to seek power. While they were content with being eternal, he knew there was more, and he sought to achieve it.
This being, known to all as Lord Abyssal, became who he is because of a statement made by one of his descendants. He was the first to comprehend true supremacy and standings equally with the cosmic will—a feat none had thought possible.
And it was made possible in the timeline that Lord Abyssal sealed. A timeline where, after eons of absence, he intervened in the lives of his descendants—those of the abyssal galaxy, once known as the Milky Way.
In this timeline, billions of years have passed since anyone last ascended. The eight races have long since been separated, slavery has returned, and records of many things have been lost.
____________________________________________
VENUS: YEAR 60,457 AWC (After War Calendar) – March 27th
A scream rang from the mouth of a woman in labor. Her black, disheveled hair clung to the bed, soaked with sweat and tears. Her royal blue eyes were moist, blinking against the pain, as the birth attendant kept yelling at her to push—void of warmth or care.
But among all this, the most distinctive features of the woman were the two proud horns on her head and the tattoos that lined her pale skin. She was a demon, and from her markings, clearly one with a very pure bloodline.
Her clothes could barely be called rags, and she wore a very old necklace that looked to hold little or no value. On that necklace was the image of a Qillin.
"PUSH AND STOP CRYING, YOU WHORE!" the birth attendant shouted.
"You should be happy to bear the child of the House of Raphael," she continued.
At this point, you might have guessed it: this woman wasn't welcomed here—at least, not valued by those around her.
Her name is Yan, a slave of the angelic House of Raphael. Born into slavery, she was now giving birth to a child who would also be enslaved by that house.
After a few more agonizing minutes, the baby finally emerged. His joyful cry echoed through the small room. Yet there were no congratulations—not from the birth attendant nor her assistants. One of them cleaned the baby and placed him in Yan's arms. Only then did she realize—he was a boy.
He had black hair and blue eyes like his mother, but no horns or tattoos—normal for a newborn who had yet to awaken his bloodline.
Until he comes of age, his race would remain unknown. But in the House of Raphael, that changed nothing. Female slaves were used as maids or for breeding more slaves. Males were sent to war, or if lucky, chosen to be personal guards.
Yan had been taken as a "plaything" by the half-brother of the House's Mistress at just 17 due to her beauty. Now, at 31, she had been "freed" from that life when the Mistress discovered she was pregnant. Time and stress had taken a toll on her, but she still retained traces of her beauty.
As she looked down at her child, the birth attendant said flatly, "You're to resume work four months from now. Remember—the Mistress is pregnant and will give birth soon."
Then she closed the door behind her.
Yan's eyes welled with tears as she stared at her baby boy, knowing he was born into chains—and she could do nothing to change it.
A cold breeze slipped into the room, waking the baby. He cried, oblivious to his mother's silent anguish.
She wished she could escape—run to the home planet of demons, Saturn, or just hide.
Suddenly, a voice—not too loud or old, but refreshing to the soul—sounded deep in her mind. "Little one, there's no need to worry. The child will grow to be great—you need only raise him in the way of the family."
Startled, she looked around—but saw no one. Her panic rose, thinking the voice had come to take her son away.
Tears streamed from her eyes like a broken dam. "P-Please… please don't take him away from me. I beg you…"
The voice came again, this time softer "Don't be alarmed, child. I would never harm my own blood. I am here to help."
A moment passed in silence as Yan tried to process what she'd heard. The voice implied it was her ancestor—and somehow, she was its descendant.
"Since you still have a bit of energy in your core," it continued, "you can access the storage space in the necklace around your neck and retrieve the family system."
It paused to let the words sink in.
Yan had never thought the necklace had any significance. Sceptical, she asked "Why are you helping me, a slave… my lord?"
"Because you are my descendant. And you have given birth to a child with an extraordinarily pure bloodline—one who will one day raise the House of Qillin to its rightful place."
The voice sounded like a father speaking to his beloved child.
Hearing this, Yan visibly relaxed. She made a decision—to trust this ancestor.
"What do I have to do? I want my child to live a life different from mine," she said, looking at her crying baby as she began to feed him.
"You don't need to do much. Feed your child and rest. Tomorrow, you can access all the information you need from the system inside the necklace. Make sure to pick one of the Lin Systems."
A few minutes later, the baby fell asleep.
Yan looked around again but still couldn't see the voice's source. Giving up, she glanced at her sleeping son. Determination sparked in her blue eyes.
"Will I hear from you again?" she asked.
"Maybe," the voice replied simply.
Exhausted from labor, she decided to follow her ancestor's advice and rest. But before she slept, she asked its name.
"I am your First Ancestor: Author Abyssal.
And you, my child… are Yan Qillin Abyssal."
________________________________________
The Next Morning
Yan awoke to the cry of the baby beside her. Slowly, she sat up, looking at him—and remembered everything.
Yes, every detail.
She was a descendant of the lost House of Qillin. And her name was Yan Qillin Abyssal.
Normally, a slave mother had no right to name her child. But since the Mistress had taken a liking to her, she'd been granted the privilege.
She looked at the child and whispered "Your name is Chen… Chen Qillin Abyssal".