Chapter -1
In the infinite void of the Great Nothingness, a primordial darkness swallowed all things. Yet, within this abyss, a solitary figure moved. Each of his deliberate steps was as silent as the dead, yet flowed with the seamless grace of a river's current.
His back was broad and imposing, yet it carried an aura of profound, bone-deep loneliness. His waist-length black hair fluttered elegantly in the air, dancing alongside the hem of his dark robes that swayed like shadows within the gloom. Under the pale radiance of a distant moon, he appeared as nothing more than a fleeting phantom passing through the night.
Suddenly, he halted. He stood as motionless and unyielding as an ancient monolith. With eyes that held an abyssal chill, he slowly tilted his head toward the high heavens.
A moment of absolute stillness passed.
He lowered his gaze with agonizing slowness. Exhaling a breath of cold air that lacked any trace of human emotion, he clasped his hands behind his back. Though the winds whipped at his robes, his posture remained as steadfast and immovable as a mountain peak.
In the heavy silence, he spoke—his voice low, yet carrying a crystalline clarity:
"I believe in none but myself. I am who I am."
"And I... shall defy the Great Dao."
As the words left his lips, the surrounding universe erupted. A violent tremor, akin to a world-shattering earthquake, convulsed the void. For millions of miles around him, the very fabric of time began to fray into chaos. In some pockets, time froze into a dead calm; in others, it surged backward in a frantic retreat before snapping forward again—a chaotic, magnificent spectacle of temporal disorder.
Amidst this upheaval, a mysterious voice—originating from nowhere and everywhere—rippled through the atmosphere.
At the sound of this stranger's voice, the chaotic laws of the world instantly obeyed, snapping back into a state of unnatural calm as if submitting to a supreme imperial edict.
"My brother..." the stranger spoke, his tone unnervingly serene. "Are you certain you wish to formally declare this war?"
The figure remained silent. He did not offer a single word of reply, standing as still as a stone statue carved from the foundations of the world.
"It seems," the voice continued with a faint sigh, "it is truly impossible to make you walk my path. I truly admire your spirit... I truly do..."
The voice began to echo, growing fainter and thinner until it dissolved entirely into the biting wind.
Once the stranger's presence had vanished, the figure slowly raised his right hand into the silent air.
"Sword of Defiant Fate... Come!"
In a flash of blinding light, a sword materialized instantly within his grasp, pulsing with an aura that felt as though it could sever the stars.
"Manifest!"
With that single command, the past, present, and future destinies of countless millions flickered into existence around him. Within these ethereal projections, the cycle of Samsara shimmered brilliantly. Some shards showed the peaceful, mundane lives of mortals; others depicted battlefields drenched in blood, fueled by ambition and greed. Some showed the struggle for the future, while others revealed souls drowning in the shackles of love and obsession.
Listening to the symphony of cries, laughter, and war shouts emanating from these visions, a thin, enigmatic smile played at the corners of his lips. It was not a smile of compassion, but the cold realization of one who views the world's grand game from a height far above the heavens.
With that, the mysterious figure took his first step forward. He walked into the depths of the consuming darkness, his silhouette fading until not a single trace of his existence remained.