"Zane!!!"
The shout tore through the small restaurant, sharp and ugly enough to make a few customers flinch.
"Get your lazy ass here and clean these tables!"
Plates clinked softly as heads lowered. No one wanted to be involved.
From behind the stained curtain leading to the kitchen, a boy stepped out slowly. He looked about nineteen, tall but lean, shoulders slouched like he hadn't slept properly in days. His black hair was messy, flattened on one side, and his eyes were puffy and red. He had been sleeping back there. Anyone could tell.
"You little brat!" the woman snapped the moment she saw him. "Do you have nothing to do except sleep?"
She folded her arms and glared, lips pulled tight in disgust. Years of shouting had made her voice rough. Her name was Tala, a widow who ran one of the many low end eateries packed along this side of the Seal. Thick bodied, sharp tongued, and permanently irritated, she ruled her restaurant like a prison warden.
Zane didn't answer right away. He just stood there, towel in hand, staring at the floor.
I've been here for almost five fucking years now.
Five years in this miserable corner of the universe, and I still don't know what dragged me here. No idea why. No idea how.
I was just a kid. Fishing. Sitting on a stupid little boat.
Then it crashed. Everything went dark. And the next thing I knew, I woke up in this cursed place.
No guide.
No explanation.
No way back.
At first, I thought he was dreaming. That I'll wake up eventually. But that didn't last long.
This world made sure of that.
At first, I thought she took me in out of pity.
Turns out, that was bullshit.
Tala had found him half dead years ago. Starving. Confused. Barely able to stand. She fed him, gave him a place to sleep, and put him to work the very next day. Food became payment. Shelter became leverage.
Not kindness.
Convenience.
She didn't save me. She bought me.
Kids his age weren't wiping tables or hauling trash.
They were cultivating.
Training their bodies. Learning techniques. Joining sects if they were lucky. Fighting beasts at the frontier if they weren't. Even the weakest cultivators had a path. A direction.
He had none.
Beasts…
The thought alone made his jaw tighten.
Creatures that shouldn't exist. Things that crawled, slithered, and stalked through forests so deep no sane person entered them. Monsters twisted beyond logic, some massive enough to flatten villages, others small and fast enough to kill you before you even noticed them.
No one knew where they came from.
No one dared go far enough to find out.
Even seasoned cultivators avoided certain regions. The ones who ignored the warnings usually vanished. No bodies. No stories. Just names that stopped being spoken.
This planet is fucked.
Magic flowed freely here. Cultivation was treated like breathing. Bloodlines, artifacts, flying cultivators cutting through the sky like it was nothing. Even rumors of dual cultivation were spoken openly, without shame.
Everything he grew up believing meant nothing here.
And he was stuck at the bottom.
"Zane!"
The shout snapped him out of it.
"Are you planning to stand there like an idiot all day?"
He raised his head slowly, annoyance flashing across his face. His eyes drifted to the tables she was pointing at.
They were filthy.
Grease smeared across cracked wood. Half-eaten food drying into ugly stains. Some customers didn't even bother wiping their mouths, leaving trails of grime behind. The smell alone made his stomach churn.
People on this side of the Seal lived differently.
Poorer. Rougher. Like they had already accepted that this was all life would ever give them. Farmers, laborers, failed cultivators. The weakest of the weak, packed together behind a massive barrier that separated them from the real cities.
The Seal.
A line drawn by power.
Zane looked at the mess and felt something twist in his chest.
Enough.
He loosened his grip on the towel.
It slipped from his hand and landed on the floor.
The sound was soft, but it echoed louder than any shout.
He turned and started walking.
For a second, no one reacted.
Tala blinked, disbelief crossing her face. "What do you think you're doing?"
Zane didn't answer.
He crossed the restaurant with steady steps, ignoring the stares burning into his back. Each step felt strange. Light. Like something he had been carrying for years was finally being set down.
"You useless boy!" Tala screamed. "You think you can just walk away from me?"
He reached the door.
"You little bastard!" Her voice rose, shrill and furious. "You have the guts to walk out on your mother?!"
Zane stopped.
He turned slowly, eyes cold.
"You are not my mother, bitch!"
Her mouth opened, rage twisting her features, but he was already done.
Zane slammed the door.
The sound cracked through the narrow street outside, echoing between buildings as he stepped away from the restaurant without looking back.
For the first time in nearly five years, he didn't stop.
He just kept walking.