Jue Han, Mahayana Immortal. A title that echoed through the vast emptiness of the cosmos, whispered in hushed tones across countless star systems, and occasionally used as a curse word by particularly unlucky demons. He'd spent millennia, eons even, perfecting the art of… well, everything. He'd meditated on mountaintops that crumbled into dust beneath his serene backside, battled celestial beasts that could swallow galaxies for breakfast, and mastered countless cultivation techniques, each more impossibly convoluted than the last. He was, in essence, the pinnacle. The apex. The guy at the very top of the cosmic food chain, casually flicking away nascent black holes like troublesome gnats.
And yet, here he was, stuck. Stuck like a celestial limpet on the precipice of the Origin-Returning Realm, a realm so profound it made Mahayana Immortality look like kindergarten finger painting. The reason for his predicament? Oh, it was a doozy. A truly, spectacularly, mind-numbingly idiotic reason. He'd forgotten an infinitesimal, microscopic, barely-there-at-all part of the first stage of Body Tempering. Yes, you read that right. The very first rung on the impossibly tall ladder of cultivation, the one everyone else tripped over in their initial fumbling attempts. Jue Han, the man who could probably teach the universe how to tie its shoelaces, had missed a knot.
"Well," he mused, a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching in a gesture of profound existential weariness. "That's troublesome."
---
Han sat upon his throne, a construct of solidified starlight and pure, unadulterated hubris. Years – no, millennia – of asceticism and effort had been poured into this very moment, this celestial perch from which he surveyed all creation. Rising above all had not been easy. In fact, it was as hard as a mantis trying to stop a chariot… driven by a rampaging cosmic deity… on a superhighway of pure potential energy. He'd done it, though. He'd transcended. He'd conquered. He'd won cultivation.
And then he'd discovered the ultimate cosmic prank.
"I forgot to enter the first stage of body tempering…" The words, spoken in a voice that usually resonated with the power of a thousand exploding suns, now sounded like a deflating balloon in a silent cathedral. For just such a tiny, insignificant reason, a reason that made even the most obtuse imps scratch their heads in confusion, he was unable to enter the Origin-Returning Realm. The indignity! The sheer, unmitigated absurdity!
His first thought, naturally, was to simply remain at the top of the world for eternity. Invincibility, it turned out, was unexpectedly boring. Like playing a video game where you've already unlocked all the cheat codes and there are no more bosses to fight. He'd tried everything: redecorating the universe, composing symphonies using black holes as instruments, even attempting to teach a particularly stubborn asteroid to tap dance. Nothing. The thrill was gone. The cosmic spark had fizzled into a dull, repetitive glow. He was looking for a challenge, something, anything, that could genuinely test him now. So, with a sigh that rippled through the fabric of reality, he began his grand, utterly ridiculous quest to return back to his roots.
To cripple himself to immortality. Because, why not?
---
The irony was thicker than a primordial soup. Jue Han, the guy who could sneeze and accidentally rearrange constellations, now had to actively seek out someone who could beat him senseless. It was proving to be… problematic. Extremely hard, in fact, to find someone who could rival him. Who in their right mind would try to fight someone at the very top of the food chain? It was as foolish, if not more, than a chicken trying to devour a Phoenix, especially a Phoenix that could disintegrate said chicken with a mere thought.
He'd searched the entire Great Overarching Heaven, a place so vast it made the concept of "infinite" feel quaint. No avail. He even tried leaving passive-aggressive notes on the cosmic bulletin board, hoping to stir up some healthy competition. Nothing.
"Sigh, I am seriously suffering from success…" A tired, certain Immortal muttered, his voice echoing through the opulent emptiness of his celestial palace. He began to contemplate the sheer idiocy of his current endeavor. Why was he trying to cripple himself?
"Why can't I just settle as the strongest in existence and have 500 wives?" he questioned, the absurdity of his situation finally hitting him like a meteor-sized comedic anvil. He, the unchallengeable, the unparalleled, was trying to ascend the cultivation ladder by actively *descending* it. It was like trying to win a marathon by running backward.
"Why am I, a dragon soaring in the skies, trying to become a frog in a well? Is this what folly feels like?" he said, putting a perfectly manicured hand over his face in an emotion so profoundly baffling, so utterly bewildering, that it defied linguistic description. It was a cocktail of exasperation, self-mockery, and a healthy dose of "what in the actual cosmic blazes am I doing?"
---
—[15 minutes ago…]—
In a moment of sheer desperation and the kind of cosmic boredom that only millennia of unchallenged power can induce, Han had ventured into the 34th Heaven. This particular heaven was known for its exceptionally ancient and notoriously grumpy Old Monsters, beings who had seen more epochs than most galaxies had stars. He figured if anyone could give him a good ol' fashioned celestial pummeling, it would be one of them.
The strongest old monster there was a venerable creature named Ji Huánxian, a being of immense power, but still only at the 3rd level of the Golden Immortal Realm. For Han, this was like looking at a particularly enthusiastic amoeba. Despite his many attempts to offend the old monster – and Han was, unexpectedly, creative in his offensiveness, going so far as to accidentally-on-purpose sleep with Ji Huánxian's great-great-great-great-grand-niece (it was complicated, don't ask) – the old monster just tried to avoid as much trouble as possible. Even the greatest of immortals may fall against a god, and Ji Huánxian was keenly aware that Han Jue wasn't just a god, he was the god.
Han even directly challenged him, a polite but firm invitation to engage in a mutually destructive, universe-shattering brawl.
"Hey, Ji Huánxian. Fight me." Han's voice, though calm, vibrated with an unspoken power that made the very air hum.
"S-senior, please h-have mercy upon this i-insect if I may have o-offended you…" The old monster, a being who could normally flatten mountains with a glare, immediately fell to his knees, his ancient face pale with a terror usually reserved for impending cosmic annihilation. It was disheartening, to say the least.
---
——[Now]——
Han sat upon his throne once more, the cosmic equivalent of fidgeting with his car keys. His fingers lightly tapped upon the armrests, each tap sending a ripple through reality as if the very fabric of existence couldn't quite contain his simple, mundane actions. It was like trying to keep a supernova contained within a teacup.
"If only finding an equal was as easy as traversing the heavens…" he sighed, his voice carrying an almost comedic weight of cosmic solitude. His gaze drifted across the Heaven Beyond Heavens, a realm so far removed from ordinary existence that even other immortals rarely glimpsed its ethereal glow. There wasn't a match for him in the heavens and the earth. There couldn't be one who could give him a thrilling fight, let alone someone greater than him…
Or is there?
Hey, Vsauce, Michael here—wait, wrong dimension.