An oppressive stillness reigned within the abyss, a realm where light dared not trespass.
The cavernous expanse stretched into infinity, a silent void swallowing all sound and motion, save for the solitary figure at its heart: Xiao Ren.
His crimson eyes, twin embers in the eternal darkness, burned with a fierce, unwavering light.
The air, thick and suffocating with an unseen presence, pressed against him like an unseen hand, yet he stood unyielding.
The scars that once marred his flesh—indelible marks of betrayal, stark reminders of his former vulnerability—had vanished, not healed, but utterly erased, as though the abyss itself had rewritten the very fabric of his being.
The silence was a tangible entity, a crushing weight that stretched into an eternity of nothingness.
Then, a whisper, a sibilant caress, slithered through the void.
Not a voice, nor an echo, but something primordial, something that predated language itself.
It did not speak words in any mortal tongue, yet its meaning resonated within Xiao Ren's mind, a force as palpable as the crushing pressure of the abyss.
"You are the first in eons to bear such a mark…"
Xiao Ren did not flinch.
His voice, when it emerged, was a steady, resonant tone that defied the suffocating silence.
"Then I will not be the last to claim its power."
The whisper deepened, morphing into a sound akin to a cosmic chuckle—a resonance too vast, too ancient to be contained by mortal vocal cords.
Before him, the obsidian altar pulsed with an inner, malevolent light.
Jagged, towering, it was inscribed with sigils that defied comprehension, twisting and shifting the moment one's gaze fell upon them—symbols that existed outside the boundaries of known reality, yet demanded recognition.
A column of pure, black radiance erupted from the altar's core, a twisting spire of darkness that pierced the void above.
The abyss itself seemed to respond, as if a colossal entity had turned its gaze upon him.
And from within that fathomless darkness, something stirred.
A gust of unseen force swept outward, a tempest of unseen energy.
The air grew impossibly heavy, a suffocating blanket.
The abyss trembled, its very foundations shuddering.
Wings.
They unfurled from the void—vast, endless, a darkness deeper than the abyss itself.
A presence so overwhelming that space itself warped and distorted beneath its weight.
A pair of eyes ignited, burning with the cold, desolate fire of dying stars.
The Dark Dragon had awakened.
It was not merely a creature of immense power.
It was a primordial force, an ancient will that had witnessed the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations, the ascension and demise of gods.
Xiao Ren did not avert his gaze.
The cavern trembled under the dragon's immense weight.
The abyss itself recoiled, as if even it knew to fear the entity that had stirred within its depths.
Had any other being stood in that place, their soul would have been crushed to nothingness beneath the sheer weight of its gaze.
Yet Xiao Ren?
He took a deliberate step forward.
The dragon's breath rumbled through the abyss, a sound that shook the very fabric of reality.
A question, not spoken, but felt, a psychic intrusion that pierced the depths of his being:
"You do not fear me, mortal?"
Xiao Ren met the dragon's gaze unflinchingly.
"Fear is a luxury for those who still cling to the illusion of loss."
His voice was calm, absolute, devoid of emotion.
"I have already been stripped bare of everything."
For an eternity-like moment, the abyss held its breath.
The dragon's vast wings stretched outward, their edges disappearing into the infinite darkness.
It loomed over him, a being that had devoured ages, that had feasted on the souls of the unworthy.
Yet now, it lowered its head.
Not in submission.
Not in surrender.
But in recognition of a kindred spirit.
The whispers of the abyss swelled into a deafening chorus, no longer mere murmurs, but a hymn of inevitable transformation.
"Then take what is rightfully yours."
Power surged—not bestowed, but claimed.
A pulse of raw energy erupted outward.
A ripple, then a tsunami, an unstoppable wave that spread through the abyss, past the veil of realms, reaching beyond the boundaries of known existence.
Across the Sixteen Core Worlds, celestial rulers stirred, their meditations shattered, their divine senses forced open against their will.
The mightiest beings in the universe felt it—a seismic shift, a cosmic disturbance, something unseen, unknown, yet undeniably potent.
A pulse of power, unlike anything recorded in the annals of cosmic history.
The stars themselves whispered it.
The celestial winds carried its echo.
A name.
A presence.
Xiao Ren had begun his ascent, his reclamation of power.
And the abyss?
It had found its king.