Neo appeared in the True World.
There was no grand arrival. No resistance from space, no surge of pressure from foreign laws.
One moment he was stepping through the tear he had created, and the next, his feet were on solid ground.
Silence greeted him.
It was a heavy silence.
This was the world where the Celestial Worthy lived.
Neo slowly lifted his head.
The sky was torn.
It was ripped open, like a wound that could never healed.
Through those gaps, nothing could be seen. No stars. No void currents. Just emptiness, swallowing light.
The smell hit him next.
Death. Iron. Rotting despair that had soaked into the land and refused to fade even after countless eons had passed.
Neo took a slow breath.
Then another.
There were rivers nearby. He could sense them.
But when he turned slightly and looked, what he saw were not rivers in the usual sense.
Blood.
