I look around and see nothing but void.
No sky. No ground. No light. No direction.
Just an endless nothing that stretches in every direction without ever changing.
"…Nothing but void," I mutter. "So what now? I don't even know what I'm supposed to do."
My voice disappears immediately, swallowed by the emptiness.
For a moment, nothing responds.
Then—
| Recommendation: Host should initiate realm creation process. |
A blue panel appears in front of me, floating in the void as if it belongs here more than I do.
"A realm?" I tilt my head slightly. "What even is that?"
Silence.
No explanation. No follow-up. Just emptiness staring back at me.
After a brief pause, the panel updates again.
| Scanning host memory archive… |
A strange sensation passes through my mind.
Not painful.
More like someone gently flipping through pages I didn't know existed.
It even feels… warm. Like a soft pat on the head.
| Result: Host lacks sufficient knowledge to operate a realm. |
I blink slowly.
"…No shit, Sherlock. I'm not omnipotent, duh."
For a second, I swear the void itself feels like it gives me a disappointed look.
Then the system responds again.
| Evaluation complete: Host competence below operational threshold. |
I narrow my eyes.
"Hey, that sounds worse than it should—"
| Conclusion: Host classified as non-essential asset. Initiating separation protocol. |
I freeze.
"…Non-essential?"
The moment the words settle, something shifts inside me.
Not outside.
Inside.
A faint pull, deep in what I now recognize as my "core." Something connected to me is trying to detach.
Cold realization creeps in.
"W-wait a minute," I say quickly. "Let's talk this out first!"
No response.
" SEPARATING THE SEED FROM THE HOST… "
"…"
I go silent.
"…Okay, wait."
Nothing happens.
" SEPARATING THE SEED FROM THE HOST… "
Still nothing.
The process pauses.
Then resumes again.
And again fails.
I blink.
"…Are you stuck? Or just giving up halfway?"
Silence.
Then—
| Evaluation update: Host resistance detected. |
| Reassessing value… |
A long pause follows.
Then the system continues, slower this time.
| Host deemed not completely useless. |
I exhale slightly.
"…That's… reassuringly insulting."
| Alternative solution initiated: Creation of Realm Spirit. |
I pause.
"A realm spirit?"
The words feel important, even if I don't fully understand them.
Back on Earth, if I wasn't working, I was reading.
Cultivation novels, mostly.
Those stories where the MC always started weak, always got some ridiculous opportunity, and somehow ended up standing above the heavens while everyone else struggled to even breathe near him.
Young masters. Jade beauties. Overpowered techniques. Endless face-slapping.
…Yeah
Those were my escape.
'I wonder if I'll become something like that,' I think absentmindedly. 'Now that I have this seed… or whatever this system is.'
"INITIATING REALM SPIRIT CREATION "
The moment the words appear, the void changes.
A ripple spreads outward.
Not physical.
Conceptual.
Like reality itself has been touched and decided to remember something new.
---
Somewhere beyond the abyssal sky.
Massive figures drift in an endless expanse that is neither space nor time.
They do not move.
They simply exist.
Yet one of them speaks.
"A new realm spirit has been born?"
The voice is feminine, calm, but carrying distant weight.
"It must be a newly formed realm," another voice answers. Old. Slow. "The cycle continues."
A third voice joins in, casual and almost bored.
"Why react so much? New realms form every cycle. Spirits are expected."
Most of them return to stillness, as if losing interest.
But not all.
One presence remains focused.
It does not move.
It does not speak immediately.
Its attention is fixed on a single point in the abyssal expanse.
"…That ripple."
A pause.
"…It shouldn't look like that."
The voice is quieter now.
Less certain.
As if something familiar has suddenly become unfamiliar.
"What is happening in the lower realms?"
No answer comes.
The others have already drifted back into silence, as if the matter is no longer worth attention.
But the one who spoke continues to watch.
Unblinking.
Focused.
As if observing a show that is entering a climax.