The Spirit Mine collapsed at midnight.
It began with a single crack.
Thin.
Sharp.
Almost fragile.
Then the mountain roared.
The underground tunnels beneath Yanwu City twisted violently as if a giant hand had clenched the earth. Wooden support beams splintered. Spiritual lanterns exploded in showers of blue sparks. The air filled with dust and the choking scent of crushed spirit stone.
Thirty-two slaves were still inside.
The overseers at the entrance shouted orders.
"Seal the gate!"
"Count the spirit stones!"
"What about the slaves?"
"Forget them! The sect cares about resources!"
The screams from within lasted only moments.
Then silence.
Heavy.
Final.
Deep beneath the collapsed tunnel, where darkness swallowed even sound, Lin Yue opened his eyes.
At first, he thought he was already dead.
There was no light.
No air.
No sensation except crushing weight pressing against his chest and legs. His ribs screamed in pain with every shallow attempt to breathe. Dirt filled his mouth. Blood trickled down his temple.
He tried to move.
He couldn't.
"So this is how it ends…" he thought.
He had imagined dying many times.
Beaten for working too slowly.
Thrown away for breaking a tool.
Executed because a disciple needed to vent anger.
Slaves did not live long in the Heavenly Flame Sect's mines.
They were tools.
And broken tools were discarded.
But he had never imagined this kind of death.
Buried.
Alone.
Without even being remembered.
A strange calm settled over him.
Perhaps Heaven had finally decided he was no longer useful.
Something warm slid across his face.
Blood.
It dripped slowly from his forehead and seeped into a narrow crack in the stone beneath him.
For a moment—
Nothing happened.
Then the ground trembled.
A low vibration pulsed through the rubble.
Lin Yue thought it was another collapse.
But the stone beneath him began glowing.
Ancient crimson patterns spread like veins across the rock, forming a circular array.
The falling debris above him froze mid-air.
Dust stopped moving.
Time did not slow—
It fractured.
A voice echoed from the darkness.
"You have finally returned."
It was not loud.
But it filled everything.
It did not enter through his ears.
It resonated inside his bones.
Lin Yue's heart pounded violently.
"Who… is there?"
"I am what remains of the Eternal Throne."
The name struck something deep within him.
Not memory.
Not recognition.
But instinct.
Golden light slowly spread across his vision.
The suffocating darkness vanished.
He could see.
Not the way humans see—
But something deeper.
Threads.
Countless luminous threads stretched through the stone around him.
Through his body.
Through the air.
Each rock above him was bound together by glowing lines.
Each breath he took was tied to a thin strand of light extending into unseen space.
"What are these?" he whispered.
"Fate," the voice replied calmly.
"You were meant to die here."
His chest tightened.
"Meant?"
"Yes. Your thread was weakened long ago. Tonight was the arranged conclusion."
Anger flared inside him.
For years he had been called worthless.
Talentless.
Destined to remain a slave.
But to hear that even this—
Even this suffocating death—
Was predetermined—
Something inside him cracked.
"Heaven arranged this?" he asked.
"Everything is arranged."
The threads around him shimmered faintly.
Memories surged through him—
Being denied cultivation because he had "no spiritual roots."
Being kicked aside when disciples passed.
Watching others awaken power while he remained nothing.
If fate was real—
Then his entire life had been scripted.
"You are my fragment," the voice continued.
"My defiance."
Suddenly the crushing weight above him no longer felt random.
It felt structured.
Organized.
He saw the thick threads binding the massive slab across his chest.
He reached toward them.
Not physically—
But with awareness.
His consciousness brushed against one thread.
It vibrated under his touch.
He pulled.
Snap.
The rock disintegrated into fine dust.
Air rushed violently into his lungs.
He coughed, gasping.
More debris began collapsing from above.
More threads appeared in his vision.
Thicker.
More complex.
He focused.
Snap.
Snap.
Snap.
Each falling boulder shattered before touching him.
He slowly pushed himself upright beneath thousands of tons of rubble.
Uninjured.
Golden eyes glowing in the darkness.
"What am I?" he whispered.
"You are Eclipse."
The voice softened.
"Not darkness."
"Not light."
"You are what remains when light and fate are erased."
The glowing array beneath him dimmed.
The presence began fading.
"Grow quietly," it warned.
"Heaven does not tolerate anomalies."
Silence returned.
The symbols vanished.
The rubble settled completely.
Lin Yue stood alone in the buried tunnel.
But he was no longer the same slave who entered it.
He looked at his hands.
Faint threads pulsed around his fingers.
He could feel them everywhere.
Connecting stone.
Air.
Life.
He turned toward the sealed tunnel entrance.
Even through layers of rock, he sensed movement.
Voices.
"Check for survivors!"
"If anyone lives, kill them. No witnesses!"
His expression remained calm.
For years, he had feared those voices.
Now—
He could see their threads too.
He walked forward.
With each step, he severed the bonds holding the collapsed tunnel shut.
Stone dissolved before him like sand.
Above ground, guards stood at the mine entrance.
They were laughing nervously.
"No one survives that."
The sealed tunnel suddenly burst outward.
Dust exploded into the night air.
A figure stepped through.
Golden eyes glowing faintly.
The guards froze.
"That's impossible…"
One outer disciple immediately threw a flame talisman.
A roaring wave of spiritual fire surged forward.
In the past, such an attack would have reduced Lin Yue to ash instantly.
Now—
He saw the structure of it.
The threads binding flame to energy.
The threads guiding its direction.
He extended his awareness.
And cut them.
The flames collapsed mid-air into harmless sparks.
The disciple stumbled backward in shock.
"What are you?!"
Lin Yue looked at him.
For years, he had been called nothing.
Trash.
Slave.
Worthless.
Now—
He finally understood the truth.
"I am someone who should have died," he said quietly.
The guards felt an inexplicable chill.
Far above the mortal realm—
Beyond clouds and stars—
A vast golden palace floated within endless light.
Countless radiant threads stretched outward from its core, connecting to every living being in the world.
An immense eye opened.
It observed mountains.
Empires.
Sects.
All threads clear.
All futures visible.
Then—
A distortion.
A blind spot.
A region where threads dimmed.
Yanwu City.
The Spirit Mine.
Golden eyes beneath the dust.
For the first time in ten thousand years—
Heaven's vision wavered.
And Heaven did not like what it could not see.