Cloud Empire— Imperial Capital— Year 3099
The neon glow tinted the rain-soaked streets, reflecting in the puddles the persistent drizzle left behind, while anti-gravity cars crossed the sky like metallic comets, dragging bluish trails that scored the darkness. The glass skyscrapers pierced the clouds, competing for space with advertisement holograms that outshone even the stars.
And in the midst of all that artificial beauty, a man walked, dragging his feet.
Han Junyan. Thirty years old, although the deep dark circles and haggard face added at least ten more. The rumpled suit hung on his thin body, the loose tie swinging like an undone knot as he was swallowed by the glow of the city that never rested.
The crowd flowed around him like a distracted human river, each person absorbed in holographic conversations jumping from their gleaming devices, with no one noticing the fatigue stamped on his hunched shoulders, in every slow step he took.
"Twelve hours..." he murmured, his voice disappearing into a thread caught in his throat, "twelve whole hours for crumbs."
He adjusted the worn leather briefcase he carried, feeling the peeling material and frayed seams that perfectly reflected his own condition. Descending the subway station stairs, the contrast cut him deeply: men and women in impeccable suits laughed on state-of-the-art holographic communicators, discussing investments and empires, while he was just another tired cog, easily disposable in the corporate machine that chewed up lives.
The knot in his throat almost exploded, but crying was too much of a luxury, a luxury only the rich could afford.
The station air vibrated with the roar of magnetic rails and the metallic whisper of electronic advertisements as he entered the crowded car, squeezing himself into a corner while the train shot through the city's bowels. His trembling hands searched his pocket for an old smartphone, its scratched casing betraying years of use, but still working his only treasure.
With a swipe, a hologram glowed before him: five little childish faces, four boys with toothless smiles and, in the middle of them, a little girl with colorful ribbons in her hair, with eyes that seemed to hold the sun.
His children. Six years old. His fuel. His reason for swallowing the world.
His heart tightened, but relief came with it; those smiles worked like a shield and armor against the weight that almost crushed him. He took a deep breath, as if the hologram returned the air his work stole from him.
"For you..." he whispered, lost in the metallic noise, "always for you."
Another swipe changed the image.
A woman. Beautiful, with serenity in her eyes and a smile capable of illuminating even the coldest night.
Junyan stood paralyzed, as if that face were a window to a time that would never return.
"Six years..." his voice came out broken, "six years without you, Jiyun..."
His fingers trembled trying to touch the projection, but his hand passed through only light, while the pain that lodged in his chest was the same as on the first day: cruel, sharp, unbearable.
Bing-bong.
"Next station: North District."
He put the phone away, swallowing dryly, and followed the human tide out of the car.
The night embraced him again, but this time he didn't follow the current, turning onto narrower and darker streets, where the glow thinned and the silence grew with every step, leaving the noisy heart of the metropolis behind. The air grew colder, purer, until the concrete finally gave way.
A mountain. Ancient, immovable.
And before it, a gate.
It wasn't made of smart glass or chromed metal, but of solid stone and dark wood, reinforced with runes that pulsed softly, like a sleeping heart a portal that defied time.
Junyan stopped, and even after so many years visiting that place, he still lost his breath before it, that forgotten refuge that was his only escape from the world.
He raised his hand, feeling the dense air before the gate make his spine tingle, when he suddenly froze.
A shadow. No.two.
He looked up and saw human silhouettes hovering in the sky like negligent gods.
"What...?" the sound died in his mouth as they approached.
Two men. Fighting.
One brandished living flames that tore through the firmament like fire serpents, while the other raised walls of stone that rose and deformed like waves.
Impacts. Silent explosions. Beams of energy cutting the night like silent lightning.
Junyan didn't move, his heart beating so loud it almost drowned out everything else.
"Awakened..." the word escaped in an incredulous whisper.
Humans who touched mana, who shaped the elements. Gods walking among ants.
The air trembled violently when a colossal blow shook the sky, and the next instant, an invisible pressure crushed Junyan to the ground.
"Hgnh!" The groan came out raw, instinctive, as if an entire mountain had fallen on him.
His knees gave way immediately, the weight of the mana tearing him apart inside as he choked, spitting hot blood that stained the ground.
His chest burned, every breath was like swallowing glass, his bones cracking, ready to break. He tried to lift his eyes, but the world spun, blurry and distorted, the ground sinking under his knees while his lungs begged for air that came thick like concrete.
And then, in the midst of the chaos, a voice resonated inside his head:
"Do you desire power?"
His eyes instantly widened the sound didn't come from his ears, but vibrated directly in his mind, echoing deep within his soul.
"W-who...?" he coughed between gushes of blood, feeling the pressure increase, his body shaking and bones groaning.
"Do you desire power?"
The sound insisted, cutting off any thought. Delirium? Mana poisoning? Madness?
"P-power...?" he spat, breathless. "I..."
The voice sounded for the third time, firm, inevitable:
"Do you desire power?"
It wasn't a question, but a destiny.
Images came in flashes: the smiles of his five children, the serene face of his wife, the fluorescent lights sucking his strength, the crushing weight of each day.
If he had strength... if only he could protect what was left.
He clenched his teeth and, at the limit of death, answered with the last flame he had left:
"...Yes. I want it."
The universe seemed to hold its breath, and then, everything went dark.
When he opened his eyes again, a brightness blinded him.
A white ceiling. Smell of antiseptic. The rhythmic beep of machines.
Hospital.
"Huh...?" his rough throat barely produced sound as a doctor in a white coat approached, digital clipboard in hand.
"You're finally awake." He noted something without looking up. "It was about time."
He tried to sit up, but dizziness pushed him back onto the pillow.
"What... happened?"
"Mana poisoning."
Junyan's eyes widened. "Poiso... what?"
"Exposure to extreme mana density. For a non-Awakened, it's suicide. You were lucky to survive."
The words echoed in his mind as he gripped the sheets, his fingers turning white from the pressure.
"I... need to go."
"Go?" The doctor raised an eyebrow. "You've been in a coma for a week."
"...A week?"
"Yes." The tone was bureaucratic, tired. "And before you ask, yes, the costs have already been calculated."
He passed him the digital clipboard, where a number burned red on the screen:
500,000 stellar coins.
Junyan felt the floor disappear under his feet. "This... is a joke?"
"Unfortunately, no." The clinical gaze didn't waver. "The hospital is not a charity."
The air weighed heavily in his lungs again. He could barely sustain five mouths, and now he had an impossible debt.
He didn't cry, just sighed long and deep, laden with resignation.
"I understand."
He put on his shabby clothes, picked up the worn briefcase, and left, dragging himself into the cold night.
The city devoured hours of transportation, but the journey seemed to last years, until the buildings finally gave way to humble neighborhoods, where a simple little house emerged in the gloom.
The door opened before he could knock.
"Mr. Junyan!"
An elderly man appeared, wearing simple but impeccable clothes, white hair carefully combed, his eyes carrying a mixture of respect and affection.
"You're back..."
Junyan forced a tired smile. "I'm home, Wei."
The butler of fifteen years of service, more than an employee, almost a pillar supporting what remained of his world.
Inside, the house smelled like home simple, poor, but full of genuine life.
He went up silently to the bedroom, the door creaking softly as it opened. Five small beds. Five soft, regular breaths.
The four boys curled up under the blankets, and the youngest girl hugging a faded teddy bear.
His heart immediately softened, a fragile smile appearing on his lips as he approached, leaving a light kiss on each sweaty forehead.
"Forgive me..." he murmured, his voice cracking with emotion, "I promise to endure. Always for you."
The sweet smell of childhood gave him back strength he didn't even know he had, and he closed the door slowly, carefully.
In his own room, he collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.
Beeeep.
An electronic sound suddenly cut the silence, and before his eyes, a holographic screen glowed without warning.
Junyan instantly froze. "What...?"
A bluish interface floated in the air before him:
Name: Han Junyan
Strength:5
Agility:5
Vitality:5
Intelligence:5
Mana:5
And below, pulsing softly:
[Gift Box – Unopened]
His heart immediately raced he recognized that. Everyone did. The screen of the Awakened.
But he hadn't Awakened. Humans only had one chance. Just one.
"This... doesn't make sense..." he brought his hand to his forehead, confused.
The screen remained there. Real. Impossible.
His finger hesitated over the pulsating hologram.
[Gift Box – Open?]
He swallowed dryly, his throat suddenly parched. "...So be it."
He touched it.
The box exploded in a blinding flash.
[You have received: Absolute Mandate of the Infinite Origin]
Junyan completely froze, his entire body suddenly breaking out in goosebumps.
Mandate...?
He opened the status again, and a new field glowed intensely:
Talent: Absolute Mandate of the Infinite Origin (???)
He touched the name with trembling fingers, and the description expanded before his eyes:
Mandate: "All things begin in me, and to me all things return."
Nature: "Source of all energy, matter, and law."
Junyan stared at those words, his heart racing like a war drum inside his chest.
"...What the hell is this?"