"The flame that births worlds is not warm. It devours all that remembers."
— Codex of the Hollow Flame, Fragment III
🔥 The Threshold of Origin
Light consumed everything.
Jin's feet found no ground, no shadow, no horizon—only the infinite blaze of The Flame Beyond.
It wasn't fire as mortals knew it. It didn't burn or crackle—it hummed, a resonance that pulsed in time with his heart.
The Leviathan Blade vibrated in his grip, its heartbeat syncing to his own.
Around him floated fragments of lost realities—ruined temples, dragon bones, shattered suns—slowly orbiting a core of blinding white fire.
At its center floated a throne of black glass, cracked but still whole.
Upon it sat a figure cloaked in flame, unmoving yet eternal.
The Flame Monarch.
🌌 The Monarch Speaks
When the Monarch's eyes opened, galaxies trembled within their pupils.
His voice was not sound—it was the language of creation itself, echoing in the depths of Jin's spirit.
"You return, bearer of my heart.
You, who tore me from my own chest and forged my flame into steel."
Jin staggered back. His mind flickered with memories—
the First War, the Seven Heavens falling, the day he struck the Monarch down with the Leviathan Blade.
"I did it to end the war," Jin said.
"You did it to rule what remained," the Monarch replied, rising from the throne.
"And now, you stand before me again—half god, half guilt."
The flames shifted, taking the form of Kael of the Hollow Flame—Jin's past self, but radiant, perfected, unscarred by mortality.
It was him… and not him.
⚔ Duel of Reflections
The Monarch extended his hand, and a sword of pure solar fire formed in his grasp.
Jin drew the Leviathan Blade. Tide and flame clashed—creation versus remembrance.
Each strike split space open, revealing fragments of forgotten worlds:
Murim sects bowing before divine beasts.
The Dragon Gatherings shattering mountains.
The heavens weeping blood as the Flame Monarch fell.
Every blow brought pain not only to flesh but to soul. Jin wasn't just fighting an enemy—he was fighting his own legacy.
"You were the hero who sealed the dragons," the Monarch roared.
"And now you are the wanderer who unseals them! Tell me, Kael—what do you stand for?"
Jin's voice cracked through the firestorm.
"For choice! For a world that doesn't need gods to breathe!"
Their blades locked. Sparks turned into miniature suns.
🩸 The Blade's Cry
The Leviathan Blade screamed—a sound like ten thousand waves colliding.
For a moment, it tried to wrench itself free from Jin's grasp.
The Monarch smiled.
"It remembers me."
Jin's arm burned as molten markings crawled up his skin.
Each rune that once symbolized his Seals twisted, merging into a single sigil: The Hollow Seal.
Power surged through him—pure, untamed, divine.
The world around them buckled under the pressure.
"You can't control that flame," the Monarch warned.
"I don't need to control it," Jin said through gritted teeth. "I just need to burn brighter than you."
💥 The Hollow Ascension
Jin swung the blade.
The Leviathan Blade split the Monarch's form in two—
but instead of blood, light poured out.
The Monarch laughed, not in pain, but in pride.
"So… the Hollow Flame returns. Not to destroy, but to remember."
He extended a hand, pressing a glowing ember into Jin's chest.
"Take it, my other self. The flame is yours again—but beware: the heart that burns too long becomes hollow."
The Monarch's form dissolved into motes of gold and red, swirling around Jin until they sank into his veins.
The abyssal light dimmed.
The gate behind him closed.
🌑 Return to the Mortal Realms
Jin opened his eyes—and found himself kneeling on the shores of the Eastern Sea, the waves crashing in reverence around him.
Above, the heavens were red.
Dragons flew across the storm-laden skies, their roars echoing across continents.
Cultivators across the realms felt it—the return of the Hollow Flame.
Sect bells rang. Empires trembled.
And far to the north, the Sable Sect convened beneath their blood moon banner.
"The Reclaimer has returned," their Grandmaster whispered. "Begin the Gathering of War."
🐉 The War Begins
Jin stood, gripping the Leviathan Blade as it pulsed with new light—no longer blue and gold, but white fire streaked with shadow.
"The world remembers me now," he said softly.
"So let it see what I've become."
The winds shifted. The sea parted.
And with one step, Jin vanished—toward the heart of the next war.