The Fracture Year (Year 106)
Under the Eaves of Heaven, Cracks Begin to Form
In the silence of the Starforge Nexus, Zaxton oversees the formation of the Exploration Gate—a construct of impossible scale, built from star-iron, oathstone, and essence drawn from all Three Realms. It hovers like a wound stitched in the fabric of space, suspended between realms, pulsing once every cycle with a rhythm not of this world.
The gate is not yet open.
But the pull—that echo of the Fourth—grows stronger. And stranger.
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Jin Sori – Warden of the Outer Tempest
Far in the northwest beyond the known maps, Jin stands before the Wreathing Divide, a jagged storm-wall where reality flickers and time loops. His storm-forged spear hums in defiance as lightning dances from sky to sand. He is older now. Not just Zaxton's son, but the Heir of Tempests, recognized by the Moon of Storm herself.
He reports back to Zaxton:
> "Father… the winds speak in reverse. I dream of battles that haven't happened. And in the sand, I found a carving of our family crest—older than the Don Empire ever was."
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Rin Sori – Flame in the Forgotten South
In the burning jungles near the Scorching Maw, Rin communes with beasts no one has ever recorded. His fire no longer burns—it whispers. He has tamed a creature of the old world: a Lantern Wyrm, whose flame shows past lives in its reflection.
He too sends word:
> "I found a temple… but the writing isn't ours. Not Celestial. Not Demonic. And not Beastial. Yet I could read it. It spoke my name, and warned me not to enter."
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The First Rift (End of Year 106)
Without warning, a minor tear opens near the sealed Gate. The Moons respond instantly, each sending their Warden and Seer. What emerges is not an army—but a corpse. Humanoid. Armored. Ancient.
Its body is perfectly preserved.
And its chest bears an emblem: a sun eclipsed by a broken moon—neither known nor recorded in any realm's archives.
Zaxton kneels beside it.
The body, somehow still warm, clutches a scroll.
Its words are in Pre-Tongue—the language that predates karma.
Zaxton reads the first line aloud:
> "If you are reading this, then we have already failed."
The Dominion Tournament and the Unification Decree
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Zaxton's Power Move
The discovery of the corpse, the eclipse sigil, and the scroll written in Pre-Tongue does not bring hesitation. It brings momentum.
Zaxton—now more than Moon, now near-myth—emerges from seclusion and speaks before the Great Assembly of Moons, Kings, and Sect Lords across the Third Realm.
He wears no armor. Carries no weapon.
But his Will alone bends the heavens.
> "The time of petty divisions is over. The Moons must shine together—or be swallowed, one by one."
Then he utters the ancient rite:
> "Under Heaven, One Banner. Under Flame, One Empire.
I name Mt. Fai the heart of all Three Realms.
I name the Don Empire its body.
Let the age of fractured stars end here."
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The Tournament of Dominion (Year 107)
To prepare for the coming trial into the Fourth Realm, Zaxton commands:
> "We must find fourteen—no more, no less.
The bravest. The rarest. The impossible.
Not merely strong… but unbreakable."
He entrusts Jin Sori and Rin Sori to organize the Tournament of Dominion, the first of its kind—open to all cultivators below 40 from all Three Realms: Celestial, Demonic, and Beastial.
Tournament Details:
Held in Mt. Fai's Skyplate, an arena carved from cometstone and suspended in air.
Open only to those who have faced death and chosen to rise—each applicant must present a token of survival: a scar, a sealed memory, or a beast companion who has died and returned.
Trials Include:
The Shattered Path: Navigating illusions of one's own death.
The Beast Pact Rite: Taming a soulbeast in front of the Moon of Bone and Moon of Flame.
The Karma Spiral: An open duel where karma itself bends in response to intent, not power.
The Eclipse Gauntlet: A survival round inside a fragment of the realm tear—reality slips, and only true essence keeps one anchored.
Each Moon sends their Seer to watch. The crowds are the largest seen in a thousand years. Old rivals cheer together. Enemies weep side by side.
But not all are pleased.
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The Fracturing Moons
The Moon of Lore refuses to kneel under Mt. Fai.
> "Zaxton was once a Moon. Now he thinks himself a Sun."
The Moon of Ice remains silent but absent—rumors spread that her realm has already begun freezing over from within, and that something ancient sleeps beneath her citadel.
The Moon of Blood, always half-wild, begins quietly rallying her own sects, distrusting the unity Zaxton has forced.
Zaxton does not flinch.
> "Let them dissent. Unity born in fear is brittle. I want unity born in fire."
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The Scroll's Second Line
During the final round of the tournament—just as a young beast-cultivator girl from the Second Realm tames a creature thought extinct—Zaxton reveals the next line of the Pre-Tongue scroll:
> "Do not let them speak. If they speak, the law will bend. If they remember, the sky will crack."
And as those words are spoken, high above the arena, the air ripples.
One star winks out.
Not falls. Not fades.
Vanishes.
The sky itself reacts to the Fourth Realm's touch.
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End of Year 107
From the 3,000 contenders, only fourteen remain. None older than 28. Each a prodigy. None from the same background. Celestial. Demonic. Beastial. Unified.
Zaxton stands before them and speaks the final rite:
> "You are not heroes. You are not chosen.
You are the knife at the edge of night.
From here on… you walk toward a dawn not written in the stars."
The Whisper of the Fourth Realm
Year 108 — The Dominion Crusade of the Thirteenth Moon
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Before the Gate, There Was Fire
Zaxton was not born to be a Moon.
He did not inherit it.
He took it.
Now, with the Exploration Gate nearing completion and the champions chosen, rumors fester like rot beneath the foundations of unity. Doubts spread among the Moons. Whispers say Zaxton has gone too far. That the Fourth Realm is a myth. That the Don Empire, reborn, reaches too wide.
Zaxton hears all of it.
And so, before he steps through the Gate, he turns not outward—but inward.
> "If I am to walk into the unknown… let there be no shadow at my back."
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1. The Moon of Lore — Vault of Ashes
The Moon of Lore had always ruled through knowledge. Her domain, the Vault of Ashes, houses every prophecy, every known law, every written cycle across all Realms.
When Zaxton arrives, the sky around the vault clouds with script—runes in panic, ancient alphabets spelling warnings in tongues only Lore and Zaxton can read.
She tries to trap him in a Paradox Echo—a temporal prison made of logic loops.
> Lore: "You cannot erase what is written."
> Zaxton: "I am not here to erase. I am here to rewrite."
He utters the true name of her first forgotten thought—a word buried so deep, it shakes her foundations.
"Unwritten."
The Vault collapses inward on itself, reforming to accommodate a new chapter: The Coming of the Fourth.
Lore falls to her knees.
> Lore (weeping): "Then teach us. Teach us how to survive what even prophecy could not face."
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2. The Moon of Ice — Citadel of Stillness
The northern reaches of the Third Realm lie frozen in still time. The Moon of Ice awaits Zaxton atop her Citadel, surrounded by silence so pure, even thought is slowed.
She greets him with distant eyes.
> Ice: "You seek control. I offer stillness. The world must remain balanced."
Zaxton looks past her—toward the thing buried beneath her palace. A beast older than all the Moons. A failed god from before the First Realm, bound in stillness by her will alone.
She dares him.
> Ice: "Break me, and you break the seal."
Zaxton doesn't hesitate. He speaks its name: "Vour'an." The Beast awakens.
But instead of battling, Zaxton kneels before it, honoring its pain, its imprisonment, its truth.
> "Serve me—and I will make the world remember your name."
The beast lowers its head.
The Citadel melts—not from heat, but submission.
The Moon of Ice lowers her gaze and whispers:
> "Judgement… has come."
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3. The Moon of Blood — The Crimson Hollow
The most dangerous confrontation.
Blood does not scheme.
Blood dares.
She meets Zaxton in the Crimson Hollow, where her war sects kneel around a bonfire made from their enemies' bones.
> Blood: "You bring words. I bring war. Let's see which one bleeds truer."
Zaxton answers with silence—and draws no weapon.
Their duel lasts seven nights.
They destroy mountains, rend skies, fracture karma itself. Each blow is a dialogue. Each wound a declaration.
In the end, Zaxton pins her to the earth—not with strength, but with Will. His spirit alone holds her down, infinite and absolute.
> Zaxton: "I do not seek peace through conquest. I seek unity through reckoning."
Blood, panting and bloody, laughs.
> "Then reckon this, Dominion—if they follow you, it's because you made them burn to see the truth."
And she bows.
Not in surrender, but in respect.
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The Dominion Ascends
One by one, the rebel Moons fall into place—not through fear, but through witnessing the inevitable. What they once resisted, they now rally behind.
Zaxton does not crown himself.
He does not sit upon a throne.
He becomes the center of gravity.
The spine of heaven.
The fire between stars.
He is no longer merely the Thirteenth Moon.
He is Dominion.
He is Judgement.
And as he prepares to cross through the newly completed Exploration Gate, he gives one final proclamation to the unified Realms:
> "The stars once ruled us.
Now we command them.
Let the Fourth Realm hear our coming—
Not as pilgrims…
But as the ones who bring fire."