Location: Unknown – The Abyssal Dream
Time: Time is Irrelevant
There was no pain here. There was no cold. There was only... buffering.
Aris opened his eyes. He wasn't in the capital. He wasn't on the Dragon's back. He was standing on a floor made of black glass that stretched endlessly in all directions. Above him, there were no stars, only drifting lines of white static code that rained down like silent snow.
It felt less like a dream and more like a Server Room that had been abandoned for a billion years.
[System Connection: Stable.]
[Login: Administrator (Proxy).]
[Location: The Recycle Bin of the Universe.]
"The Recycle Bin?" Aris muttered, his voice echoing strangely. He looked at his hands. They were translucent, flickering in and out of existence. "So, I overloaded my soul. I crashed."
He began to walk.
In the distance, sitting on a throne made of shattered planetary cores, was a figure.
It was colossal—easily the size of the Titan Aris had manifested earlier. But this figure was broken. Its left side was missing, replaced by a swirling vortex of corruption. Its face was hidden behind a mask of weeping white light. Chains made of golden "Heavenly Law" were wrapped around its limbs, rusting and biting into its ethereal flesh.
This was the Dying God. The entity that had given Aris the System.
The Conversation
Aris stopped at the foot of the throne. The pressure coming from the entity was immense, but it wasn't hostile. It felt familiar. It felt like the Void Qi that flowed through Aris's veins.
"YOU... ARE... NOISY," the God spoke.
The voice didn't come from the giant. It came from a small, pixelated old man standing next to Aris's foot.
Aris looked down. The old man flickered like a bad hologram. He wore robes that constantly shifted texture—silk, then denim, then space-suit material, then armor.
"Are you the Dying God?" Aris asked.
"I am a fragment," the old man sighed, scratching his pixelated beard. "My main body is up there," he pointed to the giant chained figure, "currently rotting. I am the automated help-desk protocol."
"Okay," Aris accepted the absurdity. "Why am I here?"
"Because you did something stupid," the old man said sharply. "You combined four Divine Beast frequencies inside a mortal container. You nearly blue-screened your own soul. If I hadn't pulled you into Sleep Mode, you would have dissolved into data packets."
The old man waved his hand. A screen appeared in the air, showing a replay of the Titan throwing the spaceship.
"Planetary Authority," the old man mused. "You accessed Admin Privileges before you were ready. The Heavenly Dao—the High Admins—definitely noticed that signal spike."
The Truth of the Universe
Aris crossed his arms. "You keep talking about Admins and Signals. Explain it to me. What is this universe? Is it a game?"
The old man laughed. It was a dry, crackling sound.
"A game? No. It is a Process."
He stomped his foot, and the glass floor changed. It showed a map of the cosmos—layers upon layers of glowing realms stacked like a tower.
"Long ago, the Universe was Chaos. Infinite potential. Then, the First Cultivators appeared. They imposed Order. They created the 'Laws of Physics', the 'Dao', the 'Cycle of Reincarnation'."
The map zoomed in on the top layer—the Upper Heavens.
"They became the High Admins. They codified reality to ensure they remained on top forever. They turned the universe into a farm. They harvest Qi, Luck, and Destiny from the lower realms to sustain their immortality."
The old man pointed to the chained giant.
"I was one of them. But I wanted to change the source code. I wanted to remove the limits on mortals. They called it a 'Virus'. They called it 'Entropy'. They deleted me."
He looked at Aris with burning grey eyes.
"But they missed a file. Me. And I found you."
The Assignment
"So I am your virus," Aris concluded. "My job is to infect the system and crash it."
"Your job," the old man corrected, "is to become the New Admin. But you are still weak. You are playing in the sandbox (Sector 994). The real enemies are in the Middle Realm."
The old man snapped his fingers.
A glowing, violet cube appeared in Aris's hand.
[Item Received: The Void-Key (Fragment 2/10).]
[Data: Coordinates to the 'Hidden Path'.]
"The spaceship you fought—the Beast-Tamer—it is damaged, but it is repairing," the old man warned. "Elder Kong is a Dao Severing expert. He will not underestimate you again. When he returns, he will not try to conquer the planet. He will try to Format it."
"Format?"
"He will detonate the planet's core to wipe the stain of your existence. He doesn't care about the resources anymore. He cares about his reputation."
Aris clenched the cube. "How do I stop a Dao Severing expert? I'm only Nascent Soul."
"You stop thinking like a Cultivator," the old man grinned, revealing teeth made of static. "Cultivators follow the path. You need to break the path."
He leaned in close.
"The Middle Realm isn't just a place 'up there'. It is a higher frequency of reality. To fight them, you need to upgrade your hardware."
The old man pointed at Aris's chest.
"You have the Four Beasts. You have the World Tree. You have the Underworld Gate. Don't just use them as weapons. Use them as Components."
The Wake-Up Call
The world began to shake. The static snow turned into a blizzard.
"Time is up," the old man said, fading away. "Your body is rebooting. Remember, Aris Thorne... the System isn't a gift. It's a shovel. Dig your way out of hell."
"WAKE UP."
The giant on the throne opened its single visible eye.
A blast of white noise hit Aris.
Location: The Imperial Palace – The Royal Infirmary
Time: Three Days after the Impact
Aris gasped, sitting bolt upright in the bed.
His body screamed in agony. Every muscle felt like it had been torn apart and stitched back together with rusty wire. He was covered in bandages soaked in medicinal paste.
"Master!"
Lin Chen was sitting by the bedside, sleeping in a chair. He jolted awake, his one remaining arm reaching for his sword instinctively before realizing it was Aris.
"You're awake," Lin Chen exhaled, slumping back. "We thought... the healers said your meridians were shattered."
"They were," Aris rasped, his throat dry. He looked at his hands. They were trembling, but the violet veins under his skin were pulsing rhythmically. "The System fixed them. It just took a while."
He looked around. The room was filled with flowers and gifts from the citizens.
"Status report," Aris demanded, trying to swing his legs out of bed. He fell back immediately, too weak to stand.
"Rest, Master," Lin Chen urged, pouring a glass of water. "The situation is... stable. For now."
"The Ship?"
"It is in high orbit," Lin Chen reported grimly. "The Azure Dragon says it is stationary. They aren't firing, but they aren't leaving. They are... waiting."
"Repairing," Aris corrected, drinking the water greedily. "Elder Kong is fixing his engines. And when he's done, he's going to blow up the planet."
Aris looked at the window. He could see the faint glint of the golden star in the day sky.
"How long?" Aris asked.
"The Dragon estimates seven days," Lin Chen said.
"Seven days," Aris laughed softly. It was a manic sound. "Seven days to bridge the gap between Nascent Soul and Dao Severing. Seven days to build a weapon capable of shooting down a starship."
He looked at Lin Chen.
"Get me a wheelchair. And get me the Soul of the Soul Warden from the vault."
"The Warden's Soul?" Lin Chen blinked. "Why?"
"Because," Aris smiled, his eyes glowing with the renewed violet light of the Void. "The Dying God gave me an idea. We aren't going to fight them with Qi. We're going to fight them with Necromancy."
"We're going to build a Ghost Ship."