---
The moonlight was thin. Dim. Almost… afraid.
Zeravon sat beneath the same tree he always did in the outer disciple courtyard, eyes closed, breathing slow. His recent match loss still echoed in whispers, but he had long stopped caring. Or pretending to care.
Above him, the night seemed heavy.
Something was coming.
---
**Elsewhere – A Shadowed Corner of the Sect**
Five disciples knelt in a tight circle. Their faces hidden, voices low.
> "It has to be tonight," whispered the tallest. "While the elders are away at the Celestial Root Meeting."
> "He's weak. Barely a cultivator. We'll make it look like a beast attack."
> "Zeravon… doesn't even know what he is," said another with a smirk. "And he never will."
The five disciples — **Fan Yu**, **Bao Zhen**, **Lin Huo**, **Tao Ming**, and **Rui Xian** — weren't monsters. Just scared. Envious. Desperate to climb.
And Zeravon… was in the way.
---
**Night – Abandoned Pavilion Outside Sect Grounds**
Zeravon walked slowly toward the secluded training field just past the north wall — a place he was told had rare herbs that only bloomed under starlight.
A lie.
He reached the center, knelt beside a strange plant… and paused.
Too quiet.
The wind had stopped.
> "You shouldn't have come alone."
He turned — but it was already too late.
**Fan Yu's palm strike landed hard against his back.**
Zeravon stumbled forward, breath caught.
Then another attack — a burst of flame from Lin Huo struck his leg. He collapsed to one knee.
> *"Why…"* he whispered.
> *"Why are you…?"*
> "Because you don't belong here!" Bao Zhen snarled.
> "Because you walk like the world should bow, even when you're nothing!"
**Tao Ming's blade cut across Zeravon's side.** Blood spilled.
And in that moment… **something cracked inside.**
Not rage.
Not fear.
Just —
**A stillness so deep it swallowed the sky.**
---
**Suddenly — Everything Stopped.**
Zeravon's body collapsed fully, unconscious. His eyes closed. Breath slow. Pulse low.
The disciples laughed — until…
The **air folded in on itself.**
The sky **tore in silence** — no sound, no flash. Just **absence**.
They looked up — and saw nothing.
Because **they weren't in the world anymore**.
A black dimension wrapped around them — endless, quiet, suffocating.
The ground turned to obsidian mirrors.
The sky above was filled with **eyes** — golden, shapeless, eternal.
Then a voice spoke.
> *"Tum hi ho na… woh sab…"*
The five froze.
Zeravon stood before them — but **his eyes were closed**.
He was still unconscious.
And yet…
> *"…jo mujhe mitana chahte the?"*
> *"…toh aaj main tumhara wajood mitata hoon."*
---
**Fan Yu screamed — and vanished.**
No blood.
No light.
Just **unwritten** from reality.
Bao Zhen tried to run — but the dimension shifted. His body froze, bones **pulled out one by one**, rearranged in the shape of a **silence rune**, and then crumbled to dust.
Tao Ming fell to his knees, begging — but Zeravon's hand raised slowly.
> *"Ek awaaz thi tumhare andar… 'main inse strong hoon'…"
> "Ab woh awaaz kabhi nahi bol payegi."*
His mouth opened — not to scream, but to **breathe their existence away.**
**One by one**, each attacker was **erased** — not killed.
**Erased.**
---
**Then — Silence.**
The dimension collapsed inward like a heartbeat.
And in the very next breath…
Zeravon opened his eyes…
**…in his room.**
Sweat covered his face. He gasped for air.
The window was open. The wind soft.
Nothing around him looked disturbed.
But…
His shoulder didn't hurt anymore.
His leg wasn't burned.
His robe was clean.
He stood slowly, unsure. Dizzy.
> *"Was it a dream…?"*
And from the shadows of the room, **no one spoke** — but something whispered.
> *"You don't remember… but something in you does."*
---
**Meanwhile – Far Above**
The **Golden Scroll** pulsed violently.
Cracks ran along its surface — not from age, but from **truth** leaking through.
And in the Realm of Chains, a voice trembled:
> *"The seal is no longer whole."*
> *"The Unknown Zeravon… has stirred."*
---