The night air crept through the cracked window, carrying the chill of faraway mountains and the faint scent of wet earth. On a narrow wooden bed lay a young man, sweat cold on his brow, his breathing ragged as if he'd just outrun death. Moonlight from the blue-tinted sky filtered in, picking out dust motes spinning in the gloom.
He opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Above, the ceiling was stained with age and mold, and for a moment he simply stared, pain traveling from his chest out to his fingertips. His body felt both alien and fragile, as if it no longer belonged to him. Each shallow breath brought him the sharp tang of dried blood and cheap herbal medicine. He gritted his teeth, willing himself to move past the pain.
"What happened? Why am I—here?" His voice emerged as a weak rasp, raw and trembling. The words cut through the silence, harsh and unfamiliar to his own ears.
"You were brought here for a purpose," a voice seemed to echo within him, resonating with a mechanical clarity. "Your journey has only just begun." The words felt both strange and unsettling, taking root in the depths of his mind.
He swallowed hard, trying to process the implication. "A purpose? What do you mean? I can't even feel my own body!" His frustration bubbled up, transforming into a defiant resolve. "Tell me what I have to do!"
"You are Fitran Fate, and the reincarnation process is complete. Now you must cultivate your essence and harness your inner strength. Only then will you understand your true power." The voice was firm, both an instruction and a challenge.
A flicker of determination ignited within him. "I will not be trapped in this fragile state. I refuse to be helpless!" He clenched his fists, the pain sharp but manageable, fueling his resolve. "Tell me how I can cultivate this power. I won't let my fate end here."
"Cultivation is arduous, but you possess potential. Focus on your breathing and envision the flow of your Qi. Let it guide you." The system's words were steady, yet he could sense an undercurrent of encouragement beneath the formality.
He inhaled deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs, and imagined energy swirling around him. "I can feel something… it's like fire within the darkness." He exhaled slowly, calming his racing heart.
"Yes, that is your essence awakening. Embrace it; allow it to grow stronger." The voice pushed him further, a mechanical coach urging him on.
"I will not give up," Fitran declared, his voice steadier now, filled with a fierce determination. "I will rise from this." Pain still clung to him, but it became a distant echo, overpowered by the new fire igniting within his spirit.
For a heartbeat, he thought he was alone with his pain. Then, a voice—not his own, yet not entirely foreign—echoed in his mind. It was clear, cool, as if spoken by living steel.
"Welcome, Fitran Fate. The reincarnation process is complete. The Heavenly Fate Codex system is now online."
He froze, the world tipping on its axis. "Fitran Fate—was that my name? Or did I live as someone else?" The fragments of memory spilled forth, chaotic and disjointed: a battlefield cloaked in shadow, a woman's hand slipping from his grasp, the roar of ancient power, and then consuming darkness—all leading to this frail body he now inhabited.
"System? What do you mean by that?" he muttered, his voice trembling. Panic clawed at his chest, squeezing his heart like a vice. "Am I dreaming? Am I… dead? No... my mind is far too clear, and the pain... it's real, all too real..."
He gripped the blanket tighter, his knuckles whitening. "If you're a system, then… what is it that you want from me? Is this some kind of trial?" His voice steadied, fueled by a yearning for clarity among the confusion.
"Your current priority is to develop your abilities. Refine the ambient Qi and advance your cultivation," the System replied, its tone clipped yet absolute. The words felt like an algorithm pressing against the inside of his skull, methodical and persistent.
He squeezed his eyes shut, a futile attempt to block out the intrusive voice. Still, it pressed closer, unyielding and cold against the warmth of his thoughts. "Develop my abilities? But I don't even grasp what's happening to me!" Frustration laced his voice, desperation echoing in the charge of his breath.
"I don't even know who I am!" he shouted into the void, expressing the turmoil swirling within him. "How am I supposed to cultivate anything when I can barely hold onto my past?"
"Focus on your present. Embrace the pain of the past and channel it into your journey. Harness the energy of your Qi," the System responded, its voice unwavering, yet tinged with a hint of warmth. "Only then can you move forward."
Each word was like a key, turning in his mind, igniting a flicker of determination. "Embrace the pain," he murmured, the phrase settling deep within him. He opened his eyes once more, heart pounding. "Then I will do just that. I will cultivate, I will harness this energy, and I will find my way."
"Name: Yu Tianran," it intoned, as if reading a dossier. "Status: Outer Disciple, Azure Cloud Sect. Cultivation: Qi Condensation, Early. Body Condition: Weak—meridian pathways closed. Remaining Qi: 3%."
His head pounded harder at each word. "Yu Tianran?" He tried to wrap his mind around the name, but it slipped through his thoughts like smoke. "What have I become?" he murmured, the taste of despair souring his tongue. He attempted to push himself upright, a wave of fresh agony surging through his arms and back like a cruel reminder of his frailty.
His gaze fell on his hands, thin and trembling. "What happened to this body?" he whispered, the question escaping like air from a punctured balloon. Old scars and bruises marred his once-strong limbs, bones jutting out beneath the pale skin that seemed to mock him with its vulnerability. Just who was he now? An identity lost to a haze of confusion and fading memories.
Images flickered through his mind—snippets of an execution ground, chains tightening painfully around his body, a soul being violently torn from flesh. "I must remember," he insisted, fighting against the cold wave of helplessness curling in his gut. Memories of another world felt like whispers at the edge of his consciousness, teasing him with their elusiveness.
Suddenly, a faint shimmer materialized before his eyes, hovering like a ghostly apparition. "What is this?" he breathed, awe mingling with dread. A translucent screen filled with perplexing text became visible, clear only to him.
─────[HEAVENLY FATE CODEX]─────
Name: Yu Tianran
Cultivation Level: Qi Condensation (Early)
Qi: 3%
Meridian Pathways: Closed (0/12)
Body Condition: Weak
Active Skills: None
Main Quest: Awaken 1 Meridian (0/1)
Time Remaining: 6 days, 23 hours
─────▲─────
He blinked, his heart hammering against his chest like a frantic drum. "A system window… this isn't a dream," he breathed, the unsettling truth slithering under his skin. "But how did I—?"
The oppressive weight of reality pressed upon him. "Am I truly Yu Tianran? Or am I merely a shadow of Fitran Fate, trapped in this ruined body?" His breath quickened, the dread clawing at his insides. "I have to survive," he whispered, determination igniting in his chest. "Whatever I am, I will find a way."
A sudden clatter jolted him—heavy footsteps echoed ominously down the corridor outside, a reminder that the world had not forgotten him yet.
The air grew heavy, pressing in around him, smothering his resolve. "Am I Yu Tianran, or am I Fitran Fate?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers trembled, uncertainty clawing at his mind. "I have to survive," he insisted, the words straining against the weight of his doubt. "Whatever I am, I won't let this be the end."
A sudden clatter jolted him out of his thoughts—heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor just outside. The battered wooden door blasted open, the hinges screeching as if they, too, dreaded what would come next. Dust rained down from the rotting beams overhead, and the stench of sweat, old straw, and mildew surged in, heralding the arrival of three figures in tattered sect robes.
The one in front—a mountain of a man with broad shoulders and a face shrouded in shadows—stepped over the threshold, exuding a predatory confidence. "Well, well, if it isn't the famed Yu Tianran," he said with a swagger, a twisted smile forming at the corners of his mouth. "Do you really think you can stand against what's coming?"
Zhou Weiming. The name slithered into Tianran's mind like a half-remembered nightmare. Anger flickered in his chest. "You don't know anything about me, Weiming," he replied defiantly, trying to hold his ground despite the tremor in his voice.
Weiming leaned closer, his voice dripping with malice. "I heard you choked during meditation. Again," he taunted, relishing each word. "They said you might finally croak. Pity." The glee in his eyes only heightened Tianran's ire.
Tianran gritted his teeth, pushing himself upright despite the rough blanket scraping against his back. "I'm not dead yet, Weiming," he managed, fighting to maintain the steadiness of his voice. He could feel the familiar heat of determination rising within him. "I'll show you what I can do."
A laugh escaped from the second disciple—a tall figure with a pockmarked face, who stepped forward with a sneer. "Look at you, cursed by the heavens! No wonder nobody wants you in their team," he jeered, taking a step closer. "Even a stray dog's got more bite."
Weiming's third companion, squat and toothless, cackled with glee, his beady eyes glinting. "There's physical training at dawn, you know. Maybe you'll croak for real this time, huh?" His taunts pierced through Tianran's resolve, but he refused to show weakness.
"I will stand," Tianran asserted, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of fear. "You think you can intimidate me? You're sorely mistaken." He felt a strange surge within him, a familiarity in the struggle that filled him with purpose.
Zhou Weiming drew closer, looming over Tianran like an ominous shadow. With a casual backhand, he smacked Tianran's shoulder—hard. Pain shot through Tianran's arm, forcing a hiss through his teeth. The sting was sharp, and he fought the urge to cradle his arm, wanting to appear stronger.
"You're just dead weight, Tianran," Weiming sneered, his voice cutting through the cramped room like a knife. He leaned in closer, a wicked grin creeping across his face. "Remember this—at Azure Cloud, the weak get left behind. Or worse. You'd do well to keep that in mind."
The trio laughed, their jeering ringing ominously in the darkness, echoing against the cold stone walls. As the door slammed shut with a crash, it felt like a finality, leaving Tianran alone in suffocating silence.
Tianran sat frozen, the ache in his arm throbbing in rhythm with his racing pulse. Each heartbeat resonated with a quiet desperation, but he refused to cry out, forcing himself to remain composed. "I'll show them," he muttered under his breath, gathering his resolve. The system's window flickered to life, pulsing red at the bottom, its presence a constant reminder of his dire fate.
[Main Quest: Awaken 1 Meridian. Reward: Unlock basic skills. Failure: Permanent loss of consciousness.]
A chill ran down his spine as the reality of the quest hit him. The words felt more like a death sentence than a mission, each syllable echoing his fears. "If I fail, I die again?" he whispered, his voice tremoring with agitation. He clenched his fists, pushing against the despair that seeped into his thoughts. "No… I won't let that happen."
He closed his eyes tightly, forcing himself to focus on the faint flow of Qi in the air around him. "Come on, I can do this," he murmured. Yet when he tried to draw it in, his body rebelled violently—his meridians locked tight, unyielding, like a fortress guarding its secret. A pressure built in his chest, heavy and suffocating, making it feel as if he had to fight against stone to breathe.
"System, there must be a way!" he pleaded, his desperation spilling over as sweat beaded on his brow. "I can't just sit here and wait to fail."
[Recommendation: Use the technique 'Void Pulse'. Status: Locked. Activation requirement: Will to survive.]
─────[LOCKED SKILL: VOID PULSE]─────
Description: A fundamental void-flow technique capable of unblocking meridians and enhancing Qi absorption.
Status: Locked — requires a demonstrated will to survive.
─────▲─────
His hands clenched into fists, the muscles tensing with a defiance that simmered beneath the surface. "Will to survive…? Haven't I already fought with everything in me?" The raw memory of that final confrontation before death clawed at him—every blow, every moment of failure was a ghost in the back of his mind, bitter and relentless.
Through the transparent pane, he gazed at the dim outline of the Azure Cloud Sect: the low-roofed dormitories sat crouched under the blue moonlight, silent courtyards scattered with remnants of training dummies. This world felt distant and forgetful of struggle and hope. In the air, he sensed the faint ring of distant bells, punctuated by the fragrance of wildflowers desperately seeking life in the unforgiving rocky soil.
"I won't die here," he declared softly, yet his voice held a steely resolve. "Not like this. Not governed by your rules." His words hung in the air, a challenge to the oppressive weight of despair.
A low pulse flickered at the corner of his vision—the system window reacting to the steel in his spirit, the intense red glow shifting gently towards amber, as if acknowledging his fierce will to rise again.
[Qi Remaining: 3%. Absorption rate: minimal. Continued effort required.]
Ignoring the pain, Tianran folded his legs beneath him, settling into a meditation posture. Every movement was excruciating, yet he bit back a groan. "If survival is what you want, then survival is what I'll give. I am Fitran Fate—whatever name you give me now," he declared, clenching his fists as determination surged through him.
He drew in a trembling breath, every fiber of his being screaming in protest. "I can't back down now," he whispered to himself, struggling to trace the elusive paths of Qi within him. Each attempt sent fresh waves of agony surging through his body, but he pushed the pain aside. "Come on. Move. Open. Live," he urged, his voice low but resolute, forcing his will into the darkness that threatened to engulf him.
As if in response to his fervent plea, the world outside stilled. The wind paused, holding its breath. The crickets went silent, as if they sensed his struggle. The moonlight intensified, illuminating the room, casting shadows like blades across his bed. "You're not the only one who can exert power," he murmured, his eyes narrowing.
He let the silence envelop him, each heartbeat amplifying the tension. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the entire Azure Cloud Sect was waiting in suspense—holding its breath, uncertain, as if they too were part of his struggle.
Then, deep in his core, he felt it: a tremor, faint but unmistakable. "Can you feel that?" he murmured to himself, his breath quickening as the first thread of Qi—a sluggish, cold sensation—began to move within him. He could sense the system panel flickering to life like a heartbeat, pulsing in rhythm with his growing urgency.
[Main Quest Progress: 1%. Warning: failure imminent unless continued effort.]
Tianran gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face, each droplet a reminder of his struggle. "You want my will? You'll have it!" he shouted defiantly, the fire in his voice igniting a spark within him. "I refuse to be broken by this world or any other!" His fists clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palms, as if he could grasp the very essence of his determination.
He opened his eyes wide, the blue moonlight painting determination across his battered features. "I will open this meridian, whatever it costs!" he vowed, his voice steadier now, fueled by fervor. "This is just the beginning—and I will write my own fate!" Each word was a declaration, a promise to himself and the universe that he was far from defeated.
The system panel pulsed in the gloom, a mixture of promise and threat filling the air around him. "You must push forward," it intoned, its voice steady yet laced with urgency, urging him to confront his fears. The night's silence was thick, yet it gave way to the promise of dawn, whispering of new possibilities just beyond his grasp.