They say the universe is infinite. Endless. Eternal.
Maybe that's true. But when you're standing in the middle of it, staring at a wall of monsters big enough to swallow planets, it doesn't feel infinite. It feels small. Too small. Like the entire cosmos has narrowed into one question: do you live, or do you die?
I should have died a long time ago. Honestly, I probably should've died back when the sect threw me out like rotten meat, when my master decided I wasn't worth the trouble. I was the weak one, the useless one—the boy everyone mocked for reaching too high.
Funny thing? They were right. I was weak. Pathetic. I couldn't even break through the lowest realm. I couldn't touch the so-called "path of the heavens."
But here's the thing about falling. You either break… or you learn how to stand back up with blood in your teeth.
That's what happened to me.
Now, look at me. Floating in the abyss, wrapped in power I don't fully understand. It leaks out of me in waves, dark and heavy, bending the space around my body. Each breath makes the void hum, like it's waiting for my command.
The swarm of beasts can feel it too. Their shrieking slows, their wings falter, even the massive war fleets behind them hesitate. Imagine that—millions of tons of steel, bristling with cannons, pausing because one man raised his hand.
One man they once called garbage.
"Once, I asked the heavens for strength," I say, voice steady, though my chest is burning. "They ignored me."
My fist closes.
"Now… I'll take everything."
And in that moment, the void itself bends. The light of stars twists and folds, swallowed into something deeper, darker.
The swarm screams and charges. The fleets unleash fire.
I step forward.
And the universe changes forever.