The sky above the Western Wastes was darker than night.
It wasn't from the setting sun.
It was the kind of darkness that came from too much power being buried, and too many secrets left to rot.
In a hidden sanctum where the elements themselves bowed, ten thousand statues stood in silent formation—each carved in the likeness of one of the Supreme Beings. Once, their hands had reached into the heavens and pulled down the laws that governed reality.
And yet… they had failed.
Before them floated a single suspended crystal—a shard of divine suppression.
Inside, unmoving, was a boy no older than seventeen.
Fan Zhi.
Hair dark as the void, brows furrowed not from fear—but exhaustion.
He hadn't screamed when they bound him.
Hadn't begged.
Hadn't cursed.
He had simply looked at them with those calm eyes as if asking, "Why even bother?"
Because he wasn't killable.
That was the terrifying truth.
Ten thousand Supreme Beings tried. Failed. Again and again.
So they sealed him.
Not just his strength, not just his identity—but his very presence.
Rank: erased.
Aura: muted.
Name: forbidden.
He became what they called the Ordinary Rank — an empty label they mocked, not realizing it would one day become prophecy.
And now... the seal trembled.
Somewhere far beyond, in the realm of mortals, Ming Yue stirred in her meditation. She didn't know why her heart suddenly tightened. Or why the pendant Fan Zhi once touched had begun to pulse with warmth.
She didn't know the seal was breaking.
She didn't know the dimension he had been thrown into was not a prison, but a test.
A cosmic field of memory and illusion, designed to erase what remained of him.
But a soul like his does not fade.
A storm like him does not rest.
Even in the farthest plane—he was waking.