He arrived safely at the other side of the mist. The thick fog limited his eyesight to a mere three metres in every direction. He looked around but saw nothing but an endless white shroud. Even the entrance behind him was swallowed by the dense mist.
'Where the hell am I?' he mused, unease creeping in.
*DING*
[ WARNING ]
[ HIGH-LEVEL NATURAL ILLUSION FORMATION DETECTED IN THE HOST'S VICINITY ]
[ VISUAL, SPATIAL, AND SENSORY PERCEPTION WILL BE SEVERELY DISTORTED WITHIN THIS ZONE ]
[ HOST IS STRONGLY ADVISED TO FOLLOW THE SYSTEM'S NAVIGATION AT ALL TIMES ]
[ DEVIATING FROM THE DESIGNATED PATH WILL RESULT IN COMPLETE DISORIENTATION AND EXTENDED LOSS OF DIRECTION ]
"Huh? System, what do you mean?" he asked, confusion tightening his chest.
*DING*
[ EXPLAINING TO HOST IN SIMPLER TERMS ]
[ IF YOU DEVIATE FROM THE SYSTEM'S PATH, YOU WILL GET LOST FOR A PERIOD OF TIME RANGING FROM A SECOND TO INFINITY ]
"So, if I move away from the designated path... I could get lost forever?"
[ AFFIRMATIVE ]
He cursed under his breath.
Suddenly, a sharper thought cut through the haze — the next step of his experiment was waiting.
'System, how much longer till you're done absorbing the energy?'
*DING*
[ CALCULATING TIME REMAINING... ]
[ 13 DAYS, 8 HOURS, 26 MINUTES AND 17 SECONDS UNTIL COMPLETION... ]
'My suspicions were right,' he thought, a faint spark of hope flickering in his mind.
He suspected the thick mist before him wasn't just any fog — it was concentrated aether.
"I've heard tales of aether turning into mist, but always thought they were just legends. Even those who told the stories had never seen it themselves..."
It was said that when aether concentration in a place reached an impossible density, it would condense into a pure mist. Legends whispered that simply breathing in this mist could loosen bottlenecks and trigger breakthroughs in ascension. But such occurrences were so rare that encountering one in a lifetime was nearly impossible.
And yet, the system had led him straight here. Luck — or fate — was on his side.
Guided by a strange, unshakable instinct, he moved deeper into the swirling veil, pushing aside the nagging feeling that something crucial was slipping from his memory.
The mist was cool, refreshing, almost intoxicating. The sun was swallowed by the white haze, bathing the world in a soft, pure light instead of its usual golden glare.
He took step after step into the unknown.
'System,' he called quietly.
*DING*
[ 8 DAYS, 6 HOURS, 39 MINUTES AND 40 SECONDS UNTIL COMPLETION... ]
He walked on.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His footsteps echoed in the unsettling silence.
No wind stirred. No birds sang. No leaves rustled.
Only his footsteps.
Their rhythm was oddly consistent — a ticking clock in the void.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He shook his head, trying to shake off the growing fixation on the sound.
Still, he walked.
Even as he shook his head, his legs moved like they were on autopilot.
He walked.
Kept moving.
Walking.
Moving.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound grew louder in his ears.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
No matter what he did — walking faster, slower, trying to stomp or tiptoe — the footsteps never ceased.
He kept moving forward.
Nothing but mist lay ahead, growing thicker with every step.
His visibility shrank to barely two metres.
And still, the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something important crept over him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Darkness began to seep into the mist.
He walked on, mind fogged, body moving despite his will.
Seconds bled into minutes.
Minutes stretched into hours.
Hours dragged into days.
'This couldn't be right. How long have I been walking?'
The thought flickered and vanished before he could hold onto it.
Time warped — seconds stretched into hours, hours collapsed into minutes, minutes spun into decades, decades shrunk to days, days stretched to years.
It was as if someone had scooped his sense of time into a jar and shook it violently.
His mind frayed.
He was on the edge of madness.
He felt exhaustion clawing at him, sleepiness creeping in like he had walked for centuries without rest.
But he couldn't sleep.
His mind insisted it had only been minutes.
Sanity slipped, a thin thread unraveling.
"What the hell is going on?" he whispered into the silence.
But no sound came.
No echo.
No voice.
Only the footsteps.
His footsteps.
That had haunted him for weeks, minutes, years, days — he couldn't tell.
He was losing himself.
His grip on reality fraying.
'System?' he called mentally.
No answer.
'What the hell is this?!' he wondered, still walking.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Fed up, he stopped moving.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Why won't you stop? I'm not even walking…"
'Wait… I'm not walking. So what's making that noise?'
'And why am I so sure it's my footsteps?' he mused, dread pooling in his chest.
Fear crept in, slow and cold.
He looked down at his legs.
What he saw made his blood run cold...
---
His legs... were walking.
His brain told him they were not in motion...
But his eyes clearly saw them walking.
"What the fuck is happening?!" he shouted in fear—or at least, he tried to.
The only thing that echoed in his ears was the rhythmic sound of his footsteps.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He was confused.
'How the fuck am I still walking when I'm not even walking? Wait… this ain't right…' he muttered in pure confusion.
Slowly, he tried raising his hand to his face—which worked, quite successfully.
But his legs refused to obey.
It was like they had a mind of their own, and that mind had only one command—keep walking.
'Calm down… Deep breath… Deep breaths…'
'Currently, my legs aren't responding to me, but it seems like my upper body is still unaffected,' he thought, analyzing the situation.
A terrifying possibility crossed his mind: what if the rest of his body was next?
If that happened, he'd be trapped in his own flesh—able to do nothing but walk.
If he was lucky, he might eventually reach a destination…
If not—he'd walk forever.
Or until he died.
'Though… I don't even think death is possible here, considering the amount of aether I'm inhaling with every breath…' he thought grimly.
'That's right… my aether!'
Suddenly, a sliver of hope sparked within him.
There was a chance—aether might slow down or even reverse this strange corruption of his body.
It might even help him regain control of his legs.
He quickly tried channeling his aether into his legs…
But they kept walking forward.
"Again!" he shouted, mostly to give himself the confidence he desperately needed.
He tried again… and again… and again.
He didn't know when he stopped trying—but eventually, he realized something far more terrifying:
He couldn't feel his aether anymore.
He couldn't even access his Aetherix.
It was like trying to grasp the air.
He tilted his neck upward—and realized it was night.
The sky was dark, void of stars or moonlight.
Yet, strangely, he could still see about a metre ahead of him, as if the darkness itself parted just enough to let him move forward.
He tried turning his body eastward... but nothing happened.
'I've fully lost control of my lower body,' he thought grimly.
First, it was just his legs.
Now, even his waist was no longer under his command.
The corruption was spreading—and fast
Piece by piece… he was fading.
He turned his neck to look around—but saw only darkness.
Like he was walking into the open mouth of a dreadful beast.
'I need to think of something fast… before I lose control of the rest of my body. Especially my arms…'
The clock was ticking.
He pushed his brain into overdrive, trying to find a solution—to no avail.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His footsteps echoed in the grave silence, like a ticking clock.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"At this rate… I'm going to lose control and just keep walking forever," he muttered with a long sigh.
'System…' he called out mentally.
Only the cold silence of the night answered him.
"System… how long until completion?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
Still, nothing.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
'This doesn't feel right…' he thought. 'The system always shows me the remaining time. But now—nothing. It's like… it doesn't even exist.'
Then, a thought struck him. A chilling, dangerous thought.
"…Which means… none of this is real. It's all an illusion."
But even that realization changed nothing.
'I need to escape. If not, I'll be trapped here forever.'
His mind raced, frantically digging through every manga, novel, or cultivation story he'd ever read—desperate for even the smallest clue.
'How do they break free…?'
In most tales, the protagonist would shatter the illusion once they realized it wasn't real. Others experienced some mid-plot enlightenment or system-triggered level-up that forced the dream to collapse.
But deep down, he knew that wasn't going to be the case for him.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of his footsteps echoed into the void—steady, unchanging. A cruel reminder that time was still moving, but he wasn't.
He inhaled sharply.
He could feel the cold air snake through his nostrils, filling his lungs. He could feel the subtle brush of wind caressing his skin, whispering against his face.
Every sensation was vivid. Real.
Too real.
"Is this really an illusion…?" he muttered aloud, his voice cracking at the edge.
Doubt, slow and insidious, crawled into his thoughts like rot.
Everything around him felt real. Every breath. Every step.
But something was… off. Subtly wrong. Like a dream that mimicked reality just enough to fool the senses—but failed to trick the soul.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He continued walking at that same unnatural, mechanical rhythm. Each step perfectly timed. Each sound bouncing off the invisible walls around him.
Still thinking.
Still trapped.
He remembered a story where the hero shattered the dream by… killing the one they loved. A cruel, heartbreaking trick.
'But there's no one here but me.'
He frowned deeply.
'Unless…'
A shiver ran down his spine.