Chapter 1: The Boy Without Roots
Prologue
Before the world broke, there was only one sky.
It was endless, bright, and whole. Rivers of spirit energy ran like veins through the heavens, nourishing mortals, beasts, and gods alike. But when the sky shattered—splitting into countless shards—those rivers scattered, becoming fragments of power bound to floating islands adrift in the void.
Amidst the ruin, a stone was left behind. Not a jewel, not a relic of a fallen god, but something older: a weightless core pulsing with silence. The ancients named it the Nexus, for it held within it the reflection of infinity.
No cultivator could tame it. No sect could claim it. Armies bled trying to seize it, only to crumble into dust. The Nexus simply endured, watching, waiting.
And once, just once, a voice whispered through the silence of the void:
"Infinity chooses the empty."
The heavens remembered. The Shards remembered. And the Nexus… waited.
The Boy Without Roots
On the lowest of the Shards—where sky was dim and spirit energy scarce—Kael's day began the same way it always did: with ash between his fingers.
He knelt on the edge of Ember Fang Village, scrubbing soot from a cracked iron cauldron. Smoke from the forges mixed with mist rising from the abyss below, giving the entire Shard a smell like burnt metal and damp stone.
Kael rubbed harder, his knuckles raw, but the soot clung stubbornly. He sighed, leaning back to stretch his sore arms. Boys his age were supposed to be preparing for today's Root Ceremony, but Kael was a worker, not a disciple.
Not that he hadn't dreamed. He had dreamed too much.
At twelve years old, he'd begged to test his roots early, convinced destiny would bend. But the elders' crystal orb had glowed dark. No roots, no channels, no spark. Nothing.
Rootless.
The word stuck to him like a brand.
"Oi, ash boy!" A sneering voice broke his thoughts.
Kael stiffened. Fang Rokan, son of the clan's elder, strode down the path with two attendants in tow. His red robes gleamed with stitched flame patterns, and a smug smile curved his lips.
"Still scrubbing pots while the rest of us prepare to ascend?" Rokan asked, voice loud enough to draw the attention of nearby villagers.
Kael said nothing. He pressed harder at the soot.
Rokan stepped closer, boots crunching gravel. "They should've tossed you into the abyss years ago. A mouth to feed, no roots to cultivate, and not even the strength of a decent laborer." He leaned down, eyes glittering. "Tell me, Kael—when the Nexus itself shines over the ceremony today, do you think it'll even notice a rat like you?"
The laughter of his attendants rang sharp. Kael's fists trembled, but he kept his head down.
Not here. Not now.
Rokan's smirk widened at Kael's silence. He shoved the cauldron with his boot, spilling black water across the dirt. "Careful you don't drown in your own filth." With that, he turned, crimson sleeves fluttering, and left.
Kael exhaled slowly. His reflection in the spilled water looked small, weak. Eyes too large for his thin face, hair messy from soot and sweat. A boy clinging to scraps while others soared.
But today was still the Root Ceremony.
And somehow, he couldn't stop the ember of hope smoldering in his chest.
The Ember Fang clan's ceremonial grounds lay at the Shard's heart: a flat plateau ringed with crimson torches. In the center rose the Root Stone, a jagged crystal orb taller than a man, pulsing faintly with scarlet light.
Above, through the cracked sky, the heavens flickered. Faint arcs of white fire curved high above the Shards. For the first time in years, the Nexus Stone itself glowed faintly, visible even from the lowlands. A distant, impossible jewel floating at the world's center.
The elders stood in their finery, disciples lined behind them. Villagers crowded the edge of the plateau, buzzing with anticipation.
Kael lingered at the back, half-hidden among laborers. His hands sweated. He had no place here. He knew it. Everyone knew it. But still… what if?
One by one, the youths stepped forward to test their roots. Hands pressed to the Root Stone, and scarlet light bloomed in recognition. Murmurs rose with each result. A fire affinity. A dual root. A rare crimson spark.
Then came Fang Rokan.
He strode forward like the world owed him obeisance. When his hand touched the stone, it flared blindingly bright, crimson flames licking the air. The crowd roared. "Heaven-grade roots!" an elder cried, voice thick with pride.
Rokan basked in the praise, gaze flicking to where Kael stood in the shadows. His smirk promised cruelty.
When the ceremony ended, Kael stayed long after the torches dimmed. His chest ached, but not from envy—no, it was something sharper.
Hopelessness.
Rootless. Forever nothing.
He turned away from the plateau, wandering aimlessly until the village lights fell behind. His feet carried him toward the abandoned lower ruins, places forbidden after the Shard quakes split them apart.
There, half-buried in rubble and moss, lay fragments of the old world. Broken bridges, collapsed shrines, hollow halls echoing with forgotten whispers. Kael sat on a crumbling step, head in his hands.
Why was he even here?
No roots. No power. No future.
The heavens hadn't chosen him. The Nexus hadn't chosen him. Nothing ever would.
A faint hum reached his ears.
Kael's head jerked up. Deeper in the ruins, something pulsed faintly with light. Not torchlight, not fireflies—something steadier, slower, like the heartbeat of the abyss itself.
Drawn by instinct, he rose and followed.
The ruins grew colder, the air heavy with dust and silence. The hum deepened, vibrating in his chest.
And then he saw it.
Half-hidden beneath a collapsed pillar, wedged in a hollow of black stone, lay a fragment.
It wasn't large—barely the size of his palm—but its surface shimmered with impossible depth. Looking into it was like staring into endless skies, endless seas, endless stars. The air bent around it, distorting faintly, as though infinity itself strained to fit within.
Kael's breath caught.
The Nexus.
Not the distant, untouchable monolith in the sky. A piece. A fragment. Here.
His heart pounded. Every instinct screamed to run. To leave it. To pretend he'd never seen it. Countless cultivators had tried to touch the Nexus and vanished into nothingness.
But his hand trembled forward anyway.
Not out of courage. Not out of defiance. Out of desperation.
Because if infinity truly chose the empty…
His fingertips brushed the surface.
The world shuddered.
The hum exploded into a roar, light flooding the ruins. His vision burned white, his ears filled with the sound of rushing stars. Something vast and endless pressed against his soul, cold and infinite, and Kael felt himself tearing apart.
A voice whispered, not with words, but with truth:
"Infinity chooses the empty."
And the fragment sank into him.
Author's Note
Thanks for reading the first chapter of Nexus Ascension! 🌌
If you enjoyed it, let me know — your feedback helps shape Kael's journey. More chapters coming soon.