Days, or what he perceived as days marked by the weak sun's transit, bled into one another. The landscape remained stubbornly monotonous, a panorama of browns and greys that grated on his divine sensibilities. He walked, fueled by a core of stubborn pride and the dregs of an ancient will to survive. His throat was parched, his lips cracked, and a dull ache had settled deep within his bones.
"This is beneath me," he'd often hiss to the uncaring wind. "Truly, utterly beneath me."
Yet, slowly, almost imperceptibly, the world began to shift. The dead trees, while still gaunt, seemed less brittle. Patches of hardy, dun-colored grass appeared, clinging stubbornly to life. He spotted a lizard, no bigger than his finger, skittering under a rock. Then another. Small, dust-colored birds darted between withered bushes.
With these signs of life, a subtle change in the air itself became apparent. The Ki, the world-energy, was still pathetically thin, but it was…thicker here. A fraction more potent than in the godsforsaken wasteland he'd awoken in.
"Well, it's still a shithole," Sun conceded, though a tiny spark of something other than pure despair flickered within him. "But at least it's a shithole with a slightly less anemic pulse. I must have landed in the absolute worst pocket of this new world. My luck is truly legendary…for being atrocious."
He pressed on, the meager increase in ambient energy doing little to alleviate his physical weakness but offering a sliver of hope for his cultivation. He needed a secluded spot, a cave, a ruin, anything with even a modicum of concentrated energy where he could begin the arduous process of rebuilding his power. The thought of being so vulnerable, so fragile, was a constant, burning humiliation.
Hours later, as the pale sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and sickly orange, Sun noticed something. The faint chirping of insects, the rustle of small creatures in the undergrowth – it had all gone silent. An unnatural stillness had fallen over the land, heavy and pregnant.
He paused, a prickle of unease, a long-dormant instinct, stirring within him. In his prime, he would have known the cause in an instant, would have felt the disturbance in the flow of Ki from leagues away. Now, he was just…uneasy. He scanned his surroundings, but saw nothing amiss.
"Probably just my nerves," he muttered, dismissing the feeling. "Too long without power makes one jumpy." He was Sun. What was there to fear in this broken world, apart from his own weakness? He continued his trek, pushing the unsettling silence from his mind, always straight on, as if some unseen path was guiding his weary feet. He was too focused on his own internal misery and the desperate need for a cultivation spot to pay proper heed to the world's sudden quiet.