Darkness.
"I am drowning. I am floating. I am sinking. I see nothing but darkness... a darkness that longs to consume me."
Jin Shang drifted in a void beyond time, beyond form. He could no longer tell if he was breathing or bleeding, living or dying. Reality had become a distant echo, lost in the emptiness.
Then—
A sliver of light broke through.
Soft.
Golden.
Defiant.
The Abyss recoiled.
Warmth surged beneath him, lifting him gently. The void trembled—resisted—but yielded. In the next moment, Jin found himself standing in a garden bathed in twilight, beneath a sky stitched with stars and flowers that shimmered like constellations.
A figure stood at the center. Towering. Regal. Clad in obsidian and violet armor, his silhouette was sharp and defined. Two twisted black horns curled from his temples. The dark purple aura bent around him.
Jin's breath caught. "Who…"
Before the question could form, his vision blurred—
And he awoke.
Gasping, trembling, alive.
Nyreth and Lillian stood at his side. Their healing spells had sealed his worst wounds. He sat up in a rush, eyes darting.
"That man… who was he? The one in the garden?"
Nyreth lowered his gaze with a bow. "My master."
Jin's brows knitted. "What's his connection to me?"
A pause. A silence heavy with chains.
"I am forbidden to answer."
Jin clenched his fists. So many pieces… yet the puzzle remained maddeningly incomplete.
Nyreth shifted, speaking with caution. "There is hope. We calmed Aurevian before she awakened in full. The Overlords will not descend... not yet."
Jin nodded, but his eyes were still shadowed. "If your master hadn't come, I would've died. They're stronger than we thought. Myrrak'thal... his voice nearly tore my soul apart. And Tharagon, Vyrealis... even they sealed their large amount of powers, but their powers nearly crushed me."
Lillian stirred. Her eyes were distant, haunted. But she was alive.
Then—the sky cracked.
Not a rift.
Not a tear.
The very fabric of existence wept.
A crimson scar opened above them, bleeding across the heavens. A pressure slithered through—the weight of something ancient, victorious, and cold.
Nyreth stiffened, his voice barely a whisper. "No... That's not possible. He has no successor. He should not be able to descend."
From the bleeding scar emerged a man.
No—something far worse.
A tall, statuesque figure. Crimson hair flowed like liquid blood behind him. His red eyes gleamed with malice and mirth. His armor—silver and blood-red—gleamed beneath the broken sky. Each of his steps crushed reality beneath him.
Jin rose slowly, every instinct screaming. "Who… is that?"
Nyreth's face paled.
"He who has no end.
He who mocks death by becoming its evolution.
He who dies and returns within the same breath.
He is the Last Trumpet. The Eternal Rebirth."
"Zhel-Vorah—Monarch of Endless Change."
Zhel-Vorah smirked. "How long has it been since I walked freely? This world... so fragile. So disappointing."
Jin stepped forward, defiant. "Why are you here?"
"To reclaim what is mine," Zhel-Vorah answered, eyes narrowing on Lillian. "And to erase what is unworthy."
Jin blocked his path. "You won't touch her."
Zhel-Vorah laughed—a sound that shattered clouds.
"A mortal? Stopping me?
No... You're not just a mortal.
You're mine. My slave."
Jin's eyes flared. "What the hell are you talking about?"
He unleashed his Abyssal power—a torrent of shadows, ancient and primal.
But then—
It knelt.
The Abyss bowed. Trembling. Worshiping.
Zhel-Vorah's grin deepened.
"That's right. The Abyss belongs to me. I forged it. Erebus was my heir—but he failed. So the Abyss chose you. Not as its successor—but as mine. You are the weapon Gaia whispered of. Hidden in the deepest fold of the void. You were never meant to fight me…
You were meant to be me."
Jin froze.
Zhel-Vorah stepped forward, voice like a dirge.
"I am Zhel-Vorah. Monarch of Endless Change. True Dragon. Creator of the True Abyss.
You are unworthy of its power.
So I will take back my son... and my weapon."
He raised a hand.
The Abyss recoiled from Jin—violently. Shadows tore away from his body like screaming phantoms.
His power vanished.
Jin collapsed.
Zhel-Vorah loomed. "Don't despair, Jin. You were never meant to wield the Abyss. Only to deliver it."
With a flick, Jin was hurled backward—shattering pillars of light. Blood sprayed from his mouth.
Still, he stood. Staggered forward.
Zhel-Vorah's gaze alone stopped him.
Then came pain.
Ribs cracked. Blood spilled.
Zhel-Vorah slammed his head into the earth—once, twice, again—until the ground cratered beneath him.
Nyreth struck, blades alight with cosmic flame. Lillian's divine light burned like a star.
Zhel-Vorah welcomed it.
Nyreth scarred his cheek. Lillian pierced his armor.
It didn't matter.
He roared—
And transformed into a dragon.
A form so vast, it warped the sky itself. A monstrous god of change.
Bones snapped. Wings tore. Hope shattered.
Jin watched—helpless.
Then—Zhel-Vorah turned normal and he reached Lillian.
He grabbed her throat. Lifted her effortlessly.
Jin saw her legs kick. A memory flashed.
Laplace.
Lia.
"LET HER GO!"
Jin crawled. Screamed.
But the Abyss—his own power—chained him.
He could barely move.
Zhel-Vorah summoned his blade— a massive balde of crimson steel, shaped like wrath incarnate.
"Goodbye, cursed child."
He plunged the sword into her chest.
Time fractured.
Blood fell like rain. Her eyes met Jin's—soft, forgiving.
Then… stillness.
Zhel-Vorah released her.
Lillian's body fell like a petal.
Jin caught her. Trembling.
"No… no… please… don't…"
But there was no answer.
Zhel-Vorah hovered above them.
"Your weapon is gone.
Your world is done.
This is your end, mortals."
He snapped his fingers and opened a portal. With one last mocking glance, he returned to his realm.
And the sky collapsed.
Reality fractured.
Jin clutched her lifeless form.
He sobbed. Screamed.
"Why?! Why is it that the stronger I become… the more I lose?! Why does everything I protect DIE?! Why am I always… too late?!"
Tears streamed from his eyes. He screamed—into the void.
And the void screamed back.
The world around him broke into celestial ash.
He screamed as a god.
Cried as a man.
Shattered as a soul.
And then—
Not just a planet.
Not a galaxy.
Not a universe.
But a Central World exploded—so violent, so absolute—that it tore into the High Complex itself.
The scream of Jin Shang echoed across realities—
And the Abyss remembered its true master.