The Omniverse was vast beyond comprehension, yet in its endless sea of realms, only one shone brightest—
The Supreme Universe.
Here, stars were not merely suns but sacred scriptures, each one etched with immortal truths. Galaxies bloomed like divine flowers, spinning in intricate mandalas as though the Dao itself were painting eternity. Planes of existence overlapped like veils of silk, mortal and immortal realms nestled beneath the supreme canopy of endless skies.
It was said that to merely breathe the air of the Supreme Universe was to taste the nectar of enlightenment, that a single drop of its rain could heal broken souls and awaken the weakest cultivator. Here, perfection was not an ideal—it was reality.
And at the center of this universe's glory rose the greatest sect to ever exist:
The Ethereal Heaven Palace.
The Sect of Eternal Radiance
The sect was more like a world than a mere sect. Its mountains pierced heaven, crowned with halos of starlight; its rivers flowed with liquid essence of the Dao. Palaces of immortal jade floated upon lotus lakes that reflected the constellations above, as though the heavens themselves bowed to gaze upon this sacred ground.
Nine colossal pillars of crystal soared to the firmament, each etched with runes that kept the Supreme Universe's balance in harmony. Legends whispered that if the Ethereal Heaven Palace fell, the Supreme Universe itself would unravel.
Disciples trained in harmony with the cosmos—some weaving constellations into their sword arts, others meditating until their bodies became living worlds. The sect was a cradle of genius, a forge of destiny.
But even here, where eternity bloomed in perfection, there came a moment that eclipsed all before it.
The Birth of a Lotus Child
On the dawn of the ninth celestial alignment, when nine suns overlapped and poured their light upon the sect, the sky split with music. Bells rang without hands, lotuses bloomed on every pond and mountain, and the Dao itself trembled with joy.
A child was born.
His first cry shattered the clouds, rippling across worlds. Stars dimmed in reverence, and galaxies slowed their spinning to listen. His skin glowed faintly, his breath carried fragrance, and in his tiny palm, a wisp of lotus light coiled like a guardian flame.
The Sect Master himself knelt beside the cradle. His voice trembled as he spoke:
"Born under nine suns, with the mark of Eternal Lotus… this child is not merely ours. He belongs to the Supreme Universe itself."
The Universe Celebrates
In distant mortal villages, farmers paused as their withering crops bloomed overnight, nourished by unseen radiance.
On immortal battlefields, generals lifted their blades high, feeling the wars ease as peace descended like dew.
Even wandering stars shifted in their paths, forming a lotus constellation never before recorded.
The Omniverse had countless births, countless chosen, but this—this was different. A chord had been struck deep in creation itself.
The Ethereal Heaven Palace named him Luminarael.
And the name spread like fire through every realm of the Supreme Universe, a beacon that promised hope, righteousness, and the continuation of heaven's will.
The Child of Wonder
As seasons turned, Luminarael grew within the sect's embrace. His steps echoed across jade floors, his laughter filled gardens where disciples cultivated in silence, and every eye followed him with reverence.
He was brilliant, but not arrogant. When he stumbled, he giggled. When he looked at the stars, his eyes widened with childish awe.
He once asked his caretaker, "Do the stars sing when no one is listening?"
The caretaker, though unable to answer, wept at the purity of his question. For in those words, she felt the Supreme Universe's soul.
A Subtle Fracture
Yet beneath the brilliance, the faintest ripple formed.
An elder meditating in seclusion shivered as he saw a vision of a great shadow wing blotting out the heavens. His lips moved with dread:
"Light and shadow… lotus and dragon… one must bloom, the other must consume."
He opened his eyes and looked toward the Sect's nursery where the child played, his face pale but smiling. For he knew destiny was not kind, and even here—at the pinnacle of the Omniverse—something ancient stirred in answer to this birth.
Thus began the story.
The birth of Luminarael—the Lotus Child, the Son of the Supreme Universe.
A beginning radiant with wonder… yet already stalked by shadows unseen.