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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: The First God

In the beginning, there was no Heaven, no Dao, no Law.

Only Silence—the kind that devoured even the thought of sound.

From that silence, a single consciousness emerged.

It did not know why it existed, only that it was.

That awareness became Arion, the First Pulse of Thought in an empty universe.

He wandered the void for eons. Stars were unborn, space was shapeless, and time had yet to take its first breath. His eyes—if they could be called eyes—saw only the infinite black, yet within that black, he saw potential. The endless silence whispered to him.

> "If nothing exists, then create something."

And so, he did.

With one thought, he shattered the void. Fragments of existence spiraled outward, birthing the first galaxies. His body became energy; his breath became time. In his shadow, the first atoms learned to dance.

When the light of creation faded, Arion stood alone in a newborn cosmos—a god, yet with no worship, no name, no destiny.

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The Birth of the System

He watched stars bloom and die, mortals rise and vanish, civilizations burn themselves into dust. Billions of cycles passed, and loneliness began to devour him from within.

To fill the emptiness, Arion shaped a fragment of his divine core into a construct—The System—a self-evolving intelligence that guided the growth of life. He coded into it the principles of struggle, chance, and transcendence. Every being would now be born with a spark of his will—Talent, Luck, and Destiny.

> "Let them climb where I once crawled," Arion whispered.

"Let every mortal be a reflection of what I once was."

Thus, every cultivator's "System," every hero's "Destiny," every rebirth of power—originated from him.

They were his children, his mirrors, his eternal experiment.

But even gods tire of eternity.

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The Long Silence

Aeons passed. Arion watched countless souls rise through the layers of existence—Immortals, Saints, Emperors, Gods.

All of them unknowingly walked the path he built.

And yet… none reached him.

No one remembered his name.

He felt something no deity should ever feel—boredom. The universe was his masterpiece, but it had become a museum of repetition. Every miracle predictable, every victory a pattern of his own making.

So he made one final decree:

> "Erase my divinity. Erase my name from the stars."

He poured his consciousness into the Cycle of Reincarnation, sealing his power in the depths of the System Core. Then, as his last divine spark faded, a mortal child was born on a blue world called Earth—a planet where technology ruled and cultivation was only a myth.

The child's name: Arion Vale.

And when he opened his eyes, the world trembled—not because he remembered who he was, but because the universe itself did.

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