Chapter One
Trash
"Again."
Master Ru's voice was calm, but that calmness was worse than anger. It was cold, sharp, like he had already given up.
I swallowed hard. My tongue was dry, my lips cracked. I stepped forward and placed my palm against the stone pillar. Its surface was cool. The training ground was silent except for the wind.
Just once. Just one spark. That's all I needed.
I closed my eyes, pulled at the breath inside me, tried to drag out the Qi everyone always spoke of.
But it was like digging with bare hands in dry earth. Nothing.
I pushed harder, face tight, chest burning.
A ripple. A flicker. Anything.
The pillar stayed still. Cold. Empty.
A cough echoed from the back. Then a laugh.
"He really can't do it again."
"What's this now? Fourth year?"
"Trash."
That word stabbed. It always stabbed.
I tried again, forcing more air in, my throat shaking, body trembling. My palm burned, though there was no flame. My eyes watered. I grit my teeth so hard my jaw ached.
Still nothing.
I could hear the whispers behind me growing louder. They weren't even whispers anymore.
"Why does Master still keep him around?"
"Waste of resources."
"I'd rather train a donkey, at least it can carry weight."
Laughter. Cruel, sharp laughter.
My hands dropped. My breath rattled. The world spun a little. I staggered but kept standing. My pride screamed at me not to fall.
"Enough."
The word was final.
Master Ru's face was blank, but that blankness was worse than any insult. He didn't even care enough to look angry.
"Leonel Vierra," he said slowly, so everyone could hear. "From today, you are no longer my disciple. You have no talent, no future. Leave."
The laughter exploded. No holding back now.
My heart thudded so hard I thought it might burst. My lips trembled but no words came out. I wanted to beg. I wanted to scream that I had worked harder than anyone, that I had bled and trained and never once slept easy. But my throat was closed, like my body itself was telling me to shut up.
I turned my head slightly, just enough to see their faces.
The prodigies. The sect's golden children. They smirked. Some clapped like it was a show finally ending. One even bowed mockingly toward me, hand over his chest.
"Farewell, Brother Trash," he said.
More laughter.
I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill them all. The anger inside me burned hotter than the sun, but it had no weapon, no outlet. I was powerless. Weak. Nothing.
The training ground felt smaller, the air thicker. I couldn't breathe.
And then I was outside. Just like that.
The sect gates closed behind me, heavy iron and wood. The sound of the lock sliding in place rang louder than thunder.
I stood there for a while, robe thin, shoes worn, staring at the massive gates that no longer belonged to me.
The road stretched down the mountain, empty and endless.
I walked.
The night air was sharp. Cold. Every breath stung my lungs. My legs felt heavy, each step slower than the last.
When I reached a bend, I stopped and turned back. The sect towered above, its banners fluttering in the wind, its halls lit like the heavens themselves.
That used to be mine. That used to be home.
Now it was just a wound.
My fists clenched until my nails cut my skin.
"I'll prove them wrong," I whispered. My voice cracked, pathetic, but it was all I had. "I'll show them. Somehow. Somehow."
The mountain gave no answer. The stars above flickered, uncaring.
I dropped to my knees. The dirt was cold, rough, biting. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten all day. I laughed, but the laugh turned into a cough, then into silence.
What was I supposed to do now? Where was I supposed to go?
Without cultivation, I was nothing. No sect would take me. No city would give me respect. A mortal among cultivators was worse than a beggar.
I tilted my head back, staring at the stars until my eyes blurred. They spun slowly, cruelly beautiful.
Then the air shifted.
A low rumble. At first I thought it was my stomach again, but the ground trembled faintly.
I frowned. Looked up.
The stars moved. No—that wasn't stars. That was light.
A streak. Blinding white fire tearing across the sky, faster, brighter, louder.
It grew larger with each heartbeat. The rumble became a roar.
My mouth went dry.
It was coming straight at me.
I tried to move, but my body wouldn't listen. My legs stayed rooted, frozen. My mind screamed run but my feet didn't.
The light filled the night, swallowing everything.
And then it hit.
Agony. Raw, ripping agony. My chest exploded with fire. My bones cracked like twigs. My veins burned like molten metal poured through them. I opened my mouth to scream, but the sound died in my throat, strangled.
The world disappeared.
Silence.
When I opened my eyes, nothing was the same.
The mountain was gone. The gates were gone. The dirt was gone.
I floated. Alone. The void stretched out forever, stars scattered endlessly. My body felt strange—lighter, but weighed down at the same time, like something had been added and ripped away all at once.
And then I saw it.
A shadow drifting in the endless dark. Massive. Terrifying.
A ship.
Not wood. Not sails. A monster of iron and scars, its metal hull torn but alive, its cannons still glowing faint red, like they had only recently spat destruction.
It dwarfed me. Dwarfed the mountain. Dwarfed everything.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
And then a voice.
[Initializing… Dark Matter Cultivation Protocol]
It wasn't a human voice. It wasn't even a spirit voice. It was cold. Machine-like. Ruthless.
It echoed directly in my skull, every word vibrating in my bones.
I shivered, unable to move.
In that moment, I understood.
The Leonel Vierra who was trash, who was thrown out like dirt, who was mocked and humiliated…
He had just died.
And something else had taken his place.
A new nightmare had just begun.