Early morning.
Whisperfall City was only half-awake. The sun shone weak light over steel towers and glass skyscrapers, but the streets below remained submerged in dark shadow. Surveillance drones drifted between buildings like mechanical insects. High above, advertisement blimps hovered silently, projecting smiley faces and glowing slogans across the skyline.
Awaken. Ascend. Protect Humanity.
No one looked down.
No one ever looked down.
Several districts away, in an industrial zone long marked for demolition, an abandoned warehouse stood like a rotting tooth. Its windows were shattered. Its iron doors rusted shut. Inside, the air smelled of mold, oil, and something metallic.
Then, in this empty warehouse—
A scream tore through the darkness.
"Please! Please don't hurt me! I'm just a kid!"
The voice cracked mid-sentence.
On the concrete floor lay a boy, maybe thirteen. His school uniform was torn, one shoe missing. His name tag still hung crooked on his chest: Lin Wei – Class 7B.
His limbs trembled violently, but he couldn't move. A faint yellow glow pulsed erratically beneath his skin—his newborn Dao of Earth trying desperately to shield him, like a frightened heartbeat. It flickered weak and unsteady, nothing like the proud demonstrations the Dao Academy teachers had shown.
It was weak.
In the corner of the warehouse, shadows shifted unnaturally. A silhouette peeled itself away from the darkness. Tall. Thin. Perfectly still.
A man stepped forward. His face remained hidden beneath the broken ceiling beams, but his smile caught a sliver of light.
"Hehehe…"
The laugh was soft. Almost gentle.
"Cry more," he whispered, eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Nothing improves the taste like fresh despair."
The boy sobbed harder, choking on his own breath.
"What are you going to do to my Dao? If you want it, just take it! My sister's getting discharged from the hospital tomorrow after fighting that deadly virus. I promised I'd be there to pick her up. Please... let me live. Let me keep that promise. I'm begging you."
He had awakened three days ago.
Dao of Earth.
His parents had cried with joy. The Dao Academy had already sent congratulations. He was supposed to register today as an honored student—but he had been kidnapped midway.
The man crouched slowly in front of him. Up close, the temperature seemed to drop.
"Home?"
"Let you live?"
The man tilted his head.
"Cute. But,
I don't possess that kindness."
His fingers hovered inches above the boy's chest. The faint yellow glow flickered violently in response, like prey sensing a predator.
"Once I devour your Dao," the man continued softly, "you will become… an empty vessel."
His smile widened.
"And an empty vessel dies."
The boy's breathing broke into hysterical gasps.
"Do you know," the man whispered, leaning closer, "what makes Dao taste exquisite?"
The boy couldn't answer. His jaw trembled uncontrollably.
The man's voice dropped into something inhuman.
"Pain."
The man's fingers hovered above the boy's chest. The Dao light twisted violently, like roots being ripped from soil.
The yellow glow brightened, then distorted, twisting against an invisible force. The boy screamed—"ARGHHHHHHH!"—a raw, animal sound—as his Dao was pulled from within him.
"Mom… Mom, I'm sorry… I tried… I tried to be strong…"
The air vibrated. Concrete cracked beneath him. The warehouse lights flickered on their own.
The scream rose higher—
Then was violently severed.
Silence flooded the building. Dust settled. A faint yellow wisp lingered in the air.
The man stood. His lips were stained faint gold. He closed his eyes, savoring.
"Mmm…"
"Dao of Earth."
He exhaled slowly.
"Dense. Grounded. Resilient."
A pleased smile spread across his face.
"Not bad."
At his feet lay the unmoving body of a child. Empty of lifeforce.
The man adjusted his coat calmly, stepping over the corpse as if it were nothing more than discarded packaging.
Outside, a drone passed overhead.
The warehouse remained invisible. Untouched.
"Time to go to work."
His body blurred—
And dissolved into shadow.
Above the city, screens flashed cheerful headlines.
Three More Youths Missing This Week.
Authorities Investigating.
No Signs of Foul Play.
The sun rose higher.
Whisperfall City thrummed with activity once more.
Unaware.
---
Several districts away—
Ren stood in front of the cracked mirror nailed to the wall of his apartment.
The reflection staring back at him looked half-starved despite him eating more than anyone he knew. Ink-black hair. Eyes like dark rubies. Skin too pale for someone his age.
The room behind him was barely ten steps wide. A thin mattress. A folding table. A cheap induction cooker. Stacks of instant noodle cups crushed in a corner.
His stomach growled.
It always growled.
He had eaten thirty minutes ago.
It didn't matter.
It was never enough.
Ren grabbed his jacket and paused.
"…Why am I even going?"
His voice was hoarse.
Today was the final assessment at the Dao Academy. The last chance.
If nothing manifested…
He would officially be labeled a Null.
A person without Dao.
A background character in a world ruled by power.
Ren let out a bitter laugh.
"There's no difference if I go or not."
He had already taken the first test at thirteen. He still remembered the examiner's expression—confused at first, then dismissive.
"No resonance detected. No Dao energy. It's a Null."
Null.
That word had followed him for two years.
No potential. No future.
He had walked home that day feeling empty. For years, he had imagined himself standing among the Eternals—then maybe one day becoming one of the Ten Heroes of humanity. The ones children worshipped. The ones whose faces floated across sky-screens during monster invasions.
He used to replay interviews at night.
"Protecting the weak is our duty."
"We fight so the next generation doesn't have to."
He wanted that.
Not glory. Not fame.
Just money and food. Enough income so he would never feel this gnawing, humiliating hunger again. Enough strength so no one could shove him around. Enough power to give Aunt Mimi a better life.
Instead—
Pity from the teachers, scorn from the classmates—
that was all he ever knew as a child.
"Careful, don't bump into him. You might become a Null too, hahahaha."
Ren's jaw tightened.
The first failed assessment broke something in him.
After that, he simply shut down.
Dreams became nightmares.
Hope became despair.
Some days, he woke up and genuinely wondered why he was still alive. Why he was born into this world. What his purpose was.
He had no family.
No friends.
No one waiting for him.
The world would not notice even if he disappeared.
Except—
A faint warmth crossed his mind.
Aunt Mimi.
Not blood-related to him.
Yet she had fed him when the orphanage closed down and he was kicked out. Scolded him when he skipped school. Forced extra rice into his bowl even when she barely had enough for herself.
"You eat like a bottomless pit," she used to say, pretending to be annoyed.
But she always smiled.
Ren clenched his fists.
"I can't even take care of the only person who cares about me…"
He hated himself for that.
Hated that he couldn't become an Eternal.
Hated that he couldn't earn enough.
Hated that he was just… ordinary.
No.
Not even ordinary.
Below ordinary.
A Null.
His stomach twisted violently. Hunger burned through him again, sharper this time, almost painful. He pressed a hand against his abdomen.
"…Why am I like this?"
He had never fallen sick. Never had a fever. Never even caught a cold—especially living in a slum without a single care. Doctors had called him "an anomaly."
But no one had answers for the hunger.
It wasn't normal hunger.
It felt like something inside him was consuming him from within.
Like an empty abyss clawing at his organs.
Ren closed his eyes.
"…Just go."
If he skipped today, it would become official anyway.
At least this way—
He could say he tried.
He grabbed his bag.
Before leaving, he hesitated… then looked back at the small room.
If today failed—
Nothing would change.
He would return here.
Eat.
Work.
Sleep.
Repeat.
Until one day, he didn't wake up.
Ren opened the door.
The corridor outside smelled of damp concrete and cheap detergent. Drones buzzed faintly in the distance.
Somewhere far above, a city announcement echoed:
"Final Dao Assessments Begin Today."
Ren stepped out.
The door clicked shut behind him.
For a moment—
His shadow lingered half a second longer than it should have.
To be continued.