The crack did not appear in the sky.
It appeared in a place far more dangerous
the ground everyone trusted.
The irrigation channel collapsed at dawn.
It was not dramatic. No explosion. No tremor. Just a soft, wet sound as mud gave way to nothingness, water draining into a hollow that should not have existed.
Villagers shouted. Someone slipped. Someone cursed.
Caelum froze.
Because he felt it again.
That hesitation.
He stepped closer to the edge of the collapse and looked down.
There was no hole.
There should have been one but instead, the earth folded inward, bending like soft clay around an absence. Water poured in and vanished without a ripple, without a sound.
As if swallowed by something that refused to acknowledge reality.
"This doesn't make sense," an elder muttered. "The soil here was solid."
Caelum didn't answer.
He knelt, pressed his palm against the ground, and nearly pulled back in shock.
It was cold.
Not the cold of shade or water but the cold of emptiness, like touching a shadow where substance should be.
Here, something whispered.
Not a voice.
A direction.
Caelum's breath grew shallow. His cultivation stirred instinctively, thin strands of energy circulating through his body but instead of reinforcing him, they began to drain.
Not violently.
Politely.
As if the ground expected payment.
He severed the circulation immediately, heart pounding.
Around him, no one noticed.
They were busy filling the collapse with rocks and dirt that vanished the moment they touched the absence. The hole did not grow. It simply… accepted.
"This land's cursed," someone said nervously.
"No," the elder replied. "If it were cursed, something would happen."
Caelum looked at the disappearing stones.
Something already had.
That night, Caelum walked back alone.
The stars above were sharp and bright but between them, the darkness felt thicker, heavier. His footsteps echoed strangely, as if the distance between sounds had subtly changed.
When he reached the collapsed channel, the absence was still there.
Waiting.
He did not know why he spoke.
But he did.
"What are you?"
The ground did not answer.
Instead, the world did.
A fault.
The word formed inside his mind, heavy and precise.
A misalignment between what should be and what remains.
Caelum swallowed. "Can it be fixed?"
Silence.
Then
Only if something takes the strain.
The weight descended instantly.
Not physical. Not spiritual.
Existential.
Caelum's knees buckled. His vision blurred as pressure wrapped around his presence, threading through bone, breath, and thought.
For a terrifying second, he understood
The world was not breaking violently.
It was sagging, slowly, under its own accumulated burden.
He clenched his teeth and forced himself to stand.
"I'm not strong," he said hoarsely. "You chose the wrong person."
The pressure did not lift.
You are not chosen, the world replied.
You are simply… here.
Something far away reacted.
Deep within the Abyss, an ancient structure shifted massive, patient, amused.
The first crack had appeared.
And it had found a witness.
Caelum staggered home before dawn, unaware that his shadow lingered a second longer than it should have stretching, anchoring itself to the ground beneath him.
The world exhaled.
Just a little.
End of Chapter 2