In the dark void, where there was no time and no place, a strange cup was born out of nothing.
It was not made of gold, nor of glass… it was a living vessel, its walls throbbing, twisting like slaughtered flesh still breathing. Inside it boiled a black-red liquid, blood dripping with a foul steam, a smell like rusty iron mixed with burned corpses. Every bubble that rose to the surface burst with a sound like a muffled scream.
This was not a drink… it was liquid curse.
From within the darkness, the voice of the Heavenly Dao rose, roaring like eternal orders that allowed no argument:
"Drink."
One word… but its weight was like a mountain crushing his chest.
The cup floated slowly, hanging in the air, until it stopped in front of Ashen's mouth.
In that moment, he remembered everything he had gone through since the start of this trial: the bloody cage, the thorns that tore his flesh, the flowers that grew from his wounds. But something inside whispered that what awaited him now… was worse.
Worse than any external tearing.
With a trembling hand, he grabbed the cup. Its surface was sticky, alive, like the heart of a skinned creature. He tried to resist, to push it away… but the will of the Heavenly Dao left him no choice. His fingers closed on the cup by themselves, his lips trembled, and then he was forced to raise it to his mouth.
The hot liquid touched his tongue.
One moment was enough for him to feel every sense burning.
He swallowed.
The poisoned blood poured down his throat like a flood of lava.
It flowed into his chest, his stomach, then spread into every part of his body.
Ashen's scream tore through the void.
The pain was not normal.
His intestines felt like they were melting. The walls of his stomach burned from within, slowly, as if boiling in a hellish pot. His chest boiled, his blood erupted like volcanic bubbles inside his veins.
Then… cracking.
The sound of the first bone breaking.
Ashen froze for a moment. He felt his spine breaking little by little, vertebra by vertebra, each one crushed with an audible sound. The pain echoed through his bones like a destructive tremor.
He fell to his knees, his body twisting violently, striking the empty ground with his hands, his nails digging into the void as if he wanted to tear reality itself.
But the torment did not stop with the body.
That liquid was not only blood.
It was liquid intention, a poisonous will crawling into his being. He could hear it… hear it seeping into his veins, dissolving into his blood, crawling toward his soul.
Its voice was not human whispering… it was a raging river of beastly voices speaking as one, deep and crushing:
"Let me lead you… I will free you from the pain. Let me dwell in you… and I will turn your weakness into strength. All you must do… is surrender."
Ashen trembled.
A part of his soul, the most tired and broken part, almost believed.
The torment inside him was unbearable. Every breath felt like boiling again, every movement tore another vein, every second shattered another bone. He was like a corpse burning alive from the inside.
But within this hell… he remembered.
He remembered the blood spilled, the clan he lost, the flames that burned his past.
He raised his head, his eyes boiling too, not with tears but with real blood streaming from them. He looked at the empty cup in his hands, then spat out what remained of the blood mixed with his flesh.
His voice came broken, but it carried an unbreakable strength:
"Pain? Torture?… This world has given me nothing but that. Do not think your poison can terrify me. As long as my mind stands… you will fail."
But the beastly voice did not fall silent.
It laughed.
A laugh like thunder, like black storms:
"Then… let us see how long you endure… slave of pain!"
Suddenly, fire exploded.
The giant eye staring into his soul blazed even more. It was no longer just bloody flame, but a whole inferno. Its fire turned into rivers surrounding Ashen from every direction, until he looked trapped in a sea of magma.
His blood boiled harder, until even his skin began to evaporate.
His limbs shook, his flesh and bones breaking into fragments.
His soul did not escape.
He felt it breaking apart, melting, collapsing under the poisonous will. Every part of him was crushed… not only physically, but in existence itself.
But within that… within the collapse… there was something else.
Something ignited in the depths of his soul.
A will that did not die.
A small flame, but stubborn, burning against the flood of poison.
Ashen's voice rose again, this time not a scream of pain, but a beastly roar, the growl of a trapped monster:
"Even if your will burns me… even if your poison tears me apart… I will not let you steal me. I am the one who leads myself, no one else!"
The beastly will roared back.
The battle was no longer of flesh.
It had become a war inside blood and soul, a struggle between poison trying to swallow everything and a wild flame refusing to die.
And the giant eye… stayed aflame, watching, as if enjoying the show.