Chapter 1 — The Crossing
Across existence, realities were born and destroyed without pause. Universes expanded like sparks drifting through endless darkness. Multiverses branched into infinite timelines, and Omniversal clusters floated through structures so vast that even gods would seem small. Beyond them stretched unimaginable realms—Hyperverses and Outerversal Domains, where even divine power was insignificant. Higher still lay the boundless Cosmos, a sea of infinite realities, each shimmering like a star. Yet Cosmos was not the ultimate frontier. Beyond it churned Chaos, an endless storm of colliding dimensions, breaking and forming worlds in a cycle without end. Above Chaos rose the towering Infinite Layers, a structure of infinite worlds stacked atop one another. Each layer contained countless variations of everything below. And at the edge of all fictional existence stood a mysterious limit. The Four Walls. Almost no beings knew of them. None had ever crossed them. Beyond the Fourth Wall lay the real world. Outside the Four Walls existed a quiet, simple world. No spiritual energy. No cultivation. No Path. Just ordinary humans living ordinary lives. In that world lived a young man named Ang. He had no special power. No extraordinary talent. He was nothing more than another human living a normal life. Until the day it ended. When Ang died, he expected everything to vanish. Instead, his consciousness remained. At first, it felt like falling. Then the darkness around him thickened. It was not ordinary darkness. It was heavy, dense, endless—like an ocean of black ink stretching infinitely. There was no light. No sound. No direction. Ang had entered the legendary Inky Void, a place between reality and fiction where even existence itself dissolved. Yet somehow, he survived. He did not belong to the worlds he had known. He had come from beyond the Four Walls. Time held no meaning. Ang drifted endlessly through the Inky Void until suddenly—a crack appeared. The black ink tore open. Something pulled him forward. He fell again. He passed through structures that defied comprehension: the infinite mirrors of the Infinite Layers, the violent storms of Chaos, the endless sea of Cosmos, Hyperversal realms, Outerverse domains, Omniversal clusters, Multiversal branches. And finally—one small universe. Everything went silent. When Ang regained awareness, he felt strange. He could not move. He could not open his eyes. His body was incomplete. Slowly, realization dawned. He had been reborn. Not as an adult. Not even as a child. He was still forming inside a womb. Then something appeared. A faint transparent panel floated in his mind. No sound. No voice. Just silent information, visible only to him. ORIGINIZATION CREATION INTERFACE. Host: Ang. Status: Active. Primary Directive: Creation & Destruction. Ang stared silently. More text appeared beneath it. Primary Mission: Create and reshape organizations across the Infinite Layers. Scale Requirement: Infinite. Several paths appeared below the mission. Organizational Paths: Cult Orders, Demonic Orders, Virtuous Orders, Immortal Alliances, Heavenly Courts. Another panel opened. Talent Scan Complete. Two results appeared. Spiritual Root: Root of the Culted Devil's Writing. Dao Heart: Path of Creation. The interface paused briefly. Then another line appeared. Complementary Dao Balance Detected: Hidden Path: Destruction. A warning followed. Probability Anomaly Detected. More information revealed itself. Occurrences below the Inky Void and within the Four Walls: Root of the Culted Devil's Writing — 5. Path of Creation — 5. A final line appeared. Current Host Possesses: Both. Additional panels slowly formed. Future Tasks: Recruit Disciples, Establish Elders, Create Leaders, Awaken Ancestors, Expand Across Infinite Layers. For a brief moment, a hidden line appeared. Hidden Objective: The Higher You. Then the interface faded. A small translucent icon remained in Ang's consciousness. Silent. Waiting. Months later, a child was born in a quiet mortal village. No lightning split the sky. No heavenly tribulation descended. No cultivators sensed anything unusual. To the world, it was simply the birth of an ordinary child. But far beyond their understanding, the boy lying in the cradle carried within him two of the rarest and most fundamental forces in existence: Creation and Destruction. And one day, those forces would grow powerful enough to shape—or erase—the fate of entire realities.