Chapter 2 — Arrival of the Heavenly Envoys
The ocean boiled where the monolith hovered.
A storm raged across the Pacific, forming not from weather patterns but from the spiritual pressure radiating off the structure. Satellites detected gravitational spikes, electromagnetic surges, and bursts of unknown radiation that defied classification.
To scientists, it was chaos.To cultivators—it was home.
Inside the command hub beneath Tokyo, the United Earth Defense Council convened for the second time that day. The air felt heavy, thick with tension and disbelief.
Dr. Alex Grams stood in front of the main display, showing the newly designated "Object Z-1." The monolith was now stationary above Japan's territorial waters. Surrounding it, invisible energy fields rendered all drones and probes inert the moment they crossed within five kilometers.
"Status," Alex demanded.
"Orbital scans still blind," said Yara Chen. "EM interference is spiking beyond measurable range. Sir, it's like the entire region's been rewritten."
"Rewritten?"
"Yes. The atoms in the air—oxygen, nitrogen—are vibrating at new frequencies. They've been tuned, like the environment itself is harmonizing with something."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Heaven and Earth Qi."
The phrase felt alien on his tongue, yet it was the only one that fit. He'd read the term only in classified mythological archives—ancient texts once dismissed as spiritual nonsense. But after last night's readings, nothing felt like nonsense anymore.
At 08:12 GMT, contact was made.
Without warning, the monolith's surface began to shimmer. Runes of gold spread outward like veins of molten light, and from its center, a bridge of energy extended—a staircase descending toward the sea.
Dozens of figures stepped forth.
The first was the white-haired man Alex had seen before, clad in flowing dark robes stitched with constellations. Behind him followed men and women of every age, their eyes glowing faintly with light—silver, gold, azure, crimson. They walked upon the water as if gravity were a forgotten rule.
Every camera on Earth turned toward them.
The broadcast went live across continents. Billions watched as the beings stepped onto human soil.
In Tokyo, reporters gathered behind barricades. Soldiers stood in formation, rifles humming with plasma coils.
The air shimmered.
And then—they appeared.
The white-haired man's voice carried through the air, deep and clear. "This land…" he said in fluent, ancient Mandarin, yet every ear heard it in their own language. "After eons, we return to our cradle. To Earth."
He raised his hand. A faint golden sigil pulsed in his palm. "I am Dao Lord Tianxuan, Patriarch of the Blue Star Alliance. We seek to reclaim the Source Vein that once nourished all life here."
Murmurs rippled through the human ranks. Translators whispered urgently.
Alex arrived on-site via aerial descent module, stepping onto the command deck overlooking the shoreline. The soldiers parted to let him through—he was no general, but everyone knew his words carried more weight than bullets.
Tianxuan's gaze turned toward him instantly. The cultivator smiled faintly.
"You are the one who peers into the fabric of existence," Tianxuan said. "Your mind trembles on the edge of truth."
Alex held his ground. "You crossed an entire dimension to get here. That breach destabilized our planet's orbit and nearly vaporized half our satellites. What do you want?"
Tianxuan's expression didn't change. "What belongs to us."
He gestured toward the heavens. "Your world is reawakening. The alignment of stars will soon return the Heavenly Confluence. The spiritual energy that once flowed freely here is stirring again. Do you not feel it? The air hums with life. Power sleeps beneath your oceans. Even your machines tremble, resonating with creation's pulse."
Alex folded his arms. "You mean the Qi density spike. Yes, we noticed."
Tianxuan's smile deepened. "You measure the divine and call it data. Admirable, yet blind. Still, your kind has evolved… more than I expected."
He turned his gaze to the distant cityscape, where skyscrapers shimmered in the morning haze. "When our ancestors left Earth, you were barely walking upright. And now—" his tone sharpened, "—you wield stars as weapons."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "We don't kneel to gods, Tianxuan. Not anymore."
For the first time, the Dao Lord's expression darkened. The air grew heavy, pressing down on every soldier like invisible gravity. A few dropped to their knees, gasping. The concrete beneath Tianxuan cracked.
"This arrogance," he said quietly, "is why Heaven turned its face from this world."
Alex didn't flinch. "And yet here you are—coming back."
Tianxuan studied him for a long moment. Then, suddenly, the pressure lifted. "Indeed. Because what is coming will devour you all if left unchecked. The Heavenly Convergence will not simply awaken energy—it will awaken hunger. Only the strong will survive its dawn."
"Then why declare war?" Alex asked. "Why not cooperate?"
Tianxuan's smile returned, cold and knowing. "Because, scientist… cooperation implies equality."
He turned and began walking back toward the monolith. "We shall claim what is ours. If your people resist—your technology will burn like paper before Heaven's fire."
The cultivators followed him, the sea parting with every step. The monolith pulsed once more, releasing a shockwave that sent ripples through the air, dispersing clouds for miles.
That night, the First Contact Summit dissolved into chaos.
Some nations called for peace, others for preemptive strikes. Cultivator incursions began—small groups appearing across the globe, searching for ancient "Vein Nodes," locations rich in spiritual energy.
And where they walked, nature changed.
Deserts bloomed. Seas boiled. Volcanoes awoke after millennia of silence.
Meanwhile, human weapons—lasers, rail-cannons, plasma fields—barely slowed them down. It wasn't that cultivators were immune; it was that they moved differently. Their very atoms vibrated outside normal physical harmonics.
Alex spent sleepless nights studying their footage, frame by frame. He noted how every cultivator emitted a distinct quantum field. He mapped their resonance, categorized energy fluctuations, cross-referenced them with Project Helios data.
And then he saw it—a pattern.
Every time a cultivator used a technique, a micro-fluctuation occurred at the same dimensional frequency as the rift itself.
That meant one thing:
Their power wasn't infinite.It was channeled.
Like a signal.
Alex's eyes lit up. "If we disrupt the transmission," he whispered, "we cut off their link to Blue Star."
He looked out the window, where the rift pulsed faintly in the night sky, bathing the Earth in violet light.
For the first time since the invasion began, he smiled.