2 The Timefly
In the year 542 after the "Fall of Order," the sky no longer resembled anything humanity once knew. There was no blue, no drifting clouds—only a vast expanse of liquid crimson, as if the world itself were bleeding. At the peak of Mount Oblivion stood Lin, now a towering figure. His white beard reached his waist, and his sunken eyes resembled black holes that had devoured thousands of souls.
Around the mountain, the Great Tribulation had begun. Massive orange lightning bolts—each capable of erasing an entire city—struck the earth in precise, rhythmic intervals. They were not random. The Heavenly Will was harvesting. Lin watched golden threads of energy rise from the bodies of millions—humans and beasts alike—ascending into the sky to be stored within the "Cosmic Heart."
"Five hundred years," Lin murmured, his voice like stone grinding beneath the ocean floor. "Five centuries of cultivation, slaughter, and plunder… only to discover I was nothing more than ripe fruit meant to be consumed by fate."
He felt no sorrow. Sorrow assumed one deserved better. Lin knew no one deserved anything. The world was a zero-sum equation. He had reached the rank of False Immortality, wielding power enough to shake continents, yet before the Heavenly Will, he was an ant.
Behind him gathered the so-called Chosen Heroes—armored in radiant plates, gripping sacred swords bestowed by destiny to slay "Demon Lin." To them, he was the ultimate evil who had drained the continents dry. To Lin, they were merely watchdogs sent to conclude the harvest.
"Lin! Your sins end today!" their leader shouted—a youth overflowing with heavenly luck and ignorance.
Lin ignored them. His attention rested on something delicate fluttering between his fingers: a Timefly. Invisible to the naked eye, it was the result of a century of secret planning and the sacrifice of a million souls in forbidden rites. It was the only flaw in the world's code.
"True freedom isn't achieved through strength," Lin thought, "but by escaping the cage."
With a single motion, he crushed the Timefly.
The crimson sky imploded. Not an explosion of matter—but a collapse of reality itself. Lin felt his soul dragged through a tunnel of inverted memories. Empires rose and fell in reverse, battles rewound, centuries unraveling—until everything halted.
Now… the Forbidden Cave.
Cold air filled his lungs, carrying incense and damp stone. He opened his eyes slowly. His hands were no longer wrinkled with age but young—eighteen years old, calloused from crude sword drills.
He stood before the stone platform in the heart of the Stagnant Shadow Sect's cave. In his grasp was the original Soul Absorption Scroll. The shadowy guardian still recoiled from the scent of glowing fungi Lin had smeared on himself—mere moments ago… or five hundred years in the past.
His heart skipped. The crushing headache would have killed any normal cultivator. Five centuries of memories pressed against an eighteen-year-old mind. He sat on the cold ground and began calmly "sorting the data."
"It worked," he concluded without celebration. "Year 42 of the Shadow Calendar. Third month of training. Body: Fifth Stage of Qi Gathering. Pathetically weak. Fragile as clay in a storm."
There was no time for reflection. In his previous life, this was the day he made his gravest mistake—handing the scroll to Elder Kuan, believing loyalty would shield him. That scroll contained the first fragment of Fate-Shattering. Kuan rose through its power, while Lin remained a servant for centuries before escaping to start anew.
"It won't happen again."
From his sleeve, Lin withdrew a blank scroll stolen earlier. Using blood infused with Qi, he swiftly inscribed not the real technique—but a poisoned version. It promised rapid growth yet planted invisible fractures within the cultivator's spiritual core, ensuring total collapse in ten years.
Ten years—more than enough time for Lin to drain the sect and leave.
He hid the real scroll inside a hollow carved into his own leg bone. The pain was merely data—tissue damage, nothing more.
When he exited the cave, sunlight burned eyes accustomed to a crimson sky. Elder Kuan waited eagerly.
"Did you obtain it?"
Lin bowed deeply, humility perfected by centuries of deception. "Yes, Elder. Thanks to your guidance, I secured the treasure."
He handed over the fake scroll. Kuan's expression shifted from suspicion to awe, then ecstasy. "Remarkable… You've done the sect a great service."
"Serving you is my honor," Lin replied softly. Inwardly, he pictured Kuan screaming in ten years as his energy centers shattered. A necessary side effect.
As Lin walked away, he passed Zhao, pale and broken from the earlier incident.
"Lin… why?" Zhao whispered. "I trusted you…"
Lin met his gaze. No hatred. No regret. Only emptiness.
"You weren't my victim, Zhao. You were a victim of believing the world owed you something. You were useful. That is the most one with your talent can hope for."
He left him behind. His mind calculated: five hundred spirit stones needed. A hidden warehouse beneath the ancestral temple. Guards rotate every four hours. A flaw in the northern formation on the third night of the full moon.
Knowledge from a future that no longer existed.
He must move carefully. If he grew too fast, the Heavenly Will would notice.
Back in his room, he began cultivating—refining the basic breathing technique with insights from five centuries ahead. Qi rushed toward him wildly.
"This body is weak," he thought with disdain. "But untainted. I can build a foundation beyond compare."
That night, he mapped the sect's future deaths in his mind. Allies to use. Enemies to harvest. Elder Kuan was merely an energy bank waiting to mature.
"In my previous life, I was the hunted," Lin whispered in the darkness. "In this one, I will be the calamity. I won't beg heaven for immortality—I'll tear it from its core."
No heroics. No grand emotion. Only cold calculation.
Under the silent full moon, a monster had been reborn inside the body of a gray-robed youth.
The first chapter of his old life had ended.
The second chapter of shattering fate had just begun.
To be continued…