Ren Zu stood still in the infinite darkness that stretched out around him. It didn't feel like standing, nor floating, nor sinking. The darkness pulsed in waves that carried no light, only a feeling of endless distance. The last time, it had crushed his mind like a vice. Now, it merely wrapped around him like a heavy cloak. He could think, if sluggishly.
He didn't understand how he ended up here again. That confusion only lasted a moment, though—his thoughts were jumbled, but he still had his memory. It took only a few seconds to retrace his steps, to recall what happened just before his exit from the world of DC.
He thought of everything he did while awake inside the cloning pod at Cadmus.
'First of all I examined the black mist in my aperture...'
It had looked intimidating—dangerous, even—but the dark mist obeyed his will, almost like his primeval essence did. He could command its movements. But no matter what he did, parts of it kept slipping through the walls of his aperture like smoke leaking from cracked glass.
And it wasn't harmless. This "chaotic essence," as he now thought of calling it, visibly corroded his aperture's walls. Quickly. Aggressively. If he hadn't reacted immediately—hadn't started draining it out with everything he had—Ren Zu knew he would've been crippled as a Gu Master. Maybe permanently.
So he focused. Poured every thought into expelling the black mist. He didn't care what was going on around him.
Voices. Movement. Conversations. Shouting.
All of it became background noise.
Even if someone had grabbed him and started beating him, Ren Zu would've kept pretending to be unconscious.
Thankfully, he moved quickly enough. The corrosion stopped short of doing permanent damage—and there were unexpected benefits. The Chaotic Essence was far more potent than his rank 1, initial-stage primeval essence. In fact, the erosion of his aperture walls felt similar to the process of cultivation. He felt quite a bit closer to rank 1 middle stage than before.
During that desperate effort to expell the chaotic essence, Ren Zu didn't forget to try to use it to activate his Gu. Unbelievably, they worked just fine—just as if he were using ordinary primeval essence. It hadn't been a sure bet, but it was something he'd unknowingly tested already during the skirmish with Superboy. The truly surprising part was how little chaotic essence was consumed. He couldn't see the slightest drop in the mist quantity even after a dozen activations of his gu.
That, more than anything, confirmed that his aperture had somehow been filled with some kind of potent energy as he was hurled through the void between worlds.
Being able to manipulate this essence—and even use it to power his Gu—was a fortunate surprise. But for someone who'd already been isekai'd once into a xianxia world and then flung into DC, well... he took it in stride.
Ren Zu didn't let himself get deluded. He understood the implications and advantages of this Chaotic Essence, yes—but he wasn't celebrating. If he were back in the Gu Yue Village, maybe he'd be overjoyed at this heaven-defying opportunity.
But he wasn't. He was somewhere else entirely—in another universe, ruled by different laws, filled with beings of absurd power, from what little he remebered of DC.
Ren Zu gathered his thoughts quickly, accepting the possibility that he'd become some kind of Planeswalker. He didn't waste time on denial. Instead, he started searching his memory for clues about what was about to happen as he continued to fake unconsciousness.
He couldn't remember much about the plot of Young Justice. It had been many years since he watched the show back on Earth. But he remembered enough to realize that what was happening around him matched the early events of the series—something about the formation of the Teen Titans. Or... was that a different group entirely? He might've been mixing up names.
Either way, Ren Zu was confident about one thing: the Superman clone—Superboy—was going to change sides and help the sidekicks (and by extension him) escape. That much was clear. So he did what any pragmatic cultivator would do—he prepared. Or, at least, he tried to.
Once Superboy dispatched the mad scientist and his cronies, Ren Zu turned inward, mentally gripping the last wisp of Chaotic Essence in his aperture. He kept it far from the walls, treating it like a wild beast on a leash. It was barely a speck, but still—enough to use his Dragonpill Cricket Gu and Yellow Horse Gu dozens, if not hundreds of times.
This would have come in handy while fighting the genetically engineered creatures of Cadmus.
But just as he got control of it—just as he settled it into stillness—his vision darkened.
Ren Zu felt himself dropping back into the endless void.
And now, here he was.
For as long as he'd been reviewing his memories, that's how long he'd been here. Trying to measure the time in this place was probably meaningless, but he tried nonetheless.
Ren Zu relaxed as he let himself drift through the void.
He held no illusions about his current position. His reincarnation into Reverend Insanity might've been chalked up to cosmic coincidence—but this? This apparent ability to traverse entire worlds?
This was no accident.
Ren Zu was mostly sure some god-like being was using him as a means to an end.
Nothing in life came for free. Believing otherwise was the height of naivety. Even Fang Yuan, with all his ruthless cunning and preparation, had worked for hundreds of years just to get his hands on the Spring Autumn Cicada in his first life—and even that had turned out to be part of Star Constellation's grand design.
Of course, Ren Zu didn't consider himself a sage. He wasn't arrogant enough to think he could see through every scheme or comprehend the will of higher beings. But this particular situation? It reeked of premeditation.
Why else would he land exactly beside the sidekicks? Exactly at the beginning of the Young Justice show's events?
He gave a dry mental chuckle, crossing his metaphorical arms behind his metaphorical head and taking a metaphorical breath.
This kind of void he was in should've spelled death for anything and everything short of Venerables—and even for them, survival wasn't guaranteed from what he knew.
And yet here he was. A mere rank 1 initial stage. An ant. A speck of dust compared to them. And he was floating effortlessly.
Ren Zu knew how to appreciate the opportunities in front of him. He had learned from the best, after all.
And if the chance to become more than just a pawn ever presented itself, well...
Minutes passed in absolute, impossible silence.
Then—instantly, like the snap of a god's fingers—Ren Zu found himself standing on solid ground. The moon above shone just as beautifully as it had before he vanished from his courtyard.
But this was no courtyard.
This wasn't even Gu Yue Village.
All around him, buildings burned. Flames licked the night air, painting the sky in hellish oranges and reds. Corpses littered the dirt roads, some fresh, others trampled, half-buried in the mud and ash. The air stank of blood and smoke, and somewhere nearby, screams pierced the night—shrill, raw, human.
Humans were killing other humans.
And in the distance, mounted on a giant wolf, a man clashed with what appeared to be a Gu Master. Their battle was lighting up the horizon with bursts of light.
But perhaps the most jarring part of it all—was the land.
It was flat.
No mountains. No slopes. No peaks hiding the moonlight.
Just desolate, open ground.
To Ren Zu, this didn't look like the Southern Border whatsoever.
'Once more, I find myself asking where the hell I am...'
Ren Zu sighed as a blade swung toward his head. He sidestepped lazily, as if dodging a tree branch, and struck the attacker's throat with an open palm. The man—a filthy, rag-covered bandit—collapsed to the ground, wheezing in pain.
Then the wheezing stopped.
Ren Zu now held the man's own sword, and with a clean, practiced motion, he separated the head from the body. A sharp arc of blood sprayed the dirt.
The nearby bandits froze. They had seen it.
The young man stood calmly among the corpses, his expression shifting slowly into a grin.
It was the ugliest grin they had ever seen. It promised nothing but death.