The sky had never felt so close.
Above the Immortal Ascension Platform, layers of tribulation clouds twisted violently, overlapping and folding in on themselves as if the heavens were struggling to contain their own wrath. Lightning flashed without sound, carrying an authority so heavy that even space itself seemed to bend beneath it.
Heaven's will.
At the center of the platform stood a lone figure.
Alaric.
His robes were torn and soaked in blood, the fabric barely clinging to his body. Deep wounds crossed his torso, some still crackling faintly with residual tribulation energy. Any one of them would have been fatal to another cultivator.
Yet he stood upright.
Breathing slow.
Posture steady.
Eyes clear.
Around him lay the remains of those who had challenged the platform alongside him geniuses from sects, clans, and immortal lineages. Some had been hailed as chosen by Heaven itself.
All of them were dead.
Some had begged.
Some had screamed.
Some had cursed the heavens in their final moments.
Alaric had done none of those things.
He took a step forward.
The Immortal Ascension Platform trembled.
Just one more step.
That was all that separated him from immortality, shedding the final shackles of mortality and stepping beyond the world's control.
A thousand years of memories surged through his mind.
Cultivation methods refined, discarded, and rebuilt from their foundations.
Pills rejected despite temptation.
Techniques dismantled and reconstructed to remove hidden flaws.
Battles fought not for fame, but for understanding.
He had never followed the path Heaven laid out.
Every realm had been broken and rebuilt.
Every shortcut refused.
Every imperfection erased.
Perfection was not granted.
It was forced into existence.
Lightning gathered overhead, thicker than before, yet it did not fall immediately.
The tribulation hesitated.
For the first time in Alaric's long cultivation life, Heaven wavered.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"So even Heaven can hesitate," he murmured.
That was when pain exploded through his chest.
A sharp, invasive agony tore through his heart, severing his circulation in an instant.
Alaric froze.
Slowly almost calmly he looked down.
A blade protruded from his chest.
The weapon hummed with a familiar resonance, perfectly aligned with his Dao. Its edge carried no hesitation, no instability.
His fingers trembled.
Only one person in existence could wield that blade like this.
Alaric turned his head.
Behind him stood a man he had trusted across countless battlefields. A man who had sworn to pursue perfection alongside him, no matter the cost.
The man's expression was calm.
Relieved.
"You chose this?" Alaric asked quietly. Blood spilled from his lips as he laughed softly. "After everything we walked through?"
The man tightened his grip on the hilt.
"Heaven offered me a chance," he said. "As long as you died here."
The tribulation clouds roared in approval.
Understanding settled in, cold and precise.
Heaven did not fear ambition.
It did not fear slaughter.
It feared deviation.
It feared a cultivator who rebuilt its laws instead of obeying them.
Another bolt of lightning descended vast, overwhelming, final.
The blade twisted.
Alaric's heart shattered.
As lightning engulfed him, tearing apart body and soul, his consciousness began to fade.
Yet his expression remained calm.
No regret.
No fear.
"If Heaven fears perfection," he whispered into the storm, "then Heaven itself is flawed."
The lightning swallowed him whole.
Darkness followed.
Cold.
Pain.
Then
Breath.
Alaric gasped violently, his body convulsing as air rushed into his lungs. His eyes snapped open as his heart hammered wildly.
He lay on a narrow wooden bed.
The ceiling above him was cracked and familiar, stained faintly by age and neglect. The smell of old incense lingered in the air.
His breathing slowed.
"I… died," he murmured.
His gaze fell to his hands.
Young.
Slender.
Unscarred.
A body he had not inhabited in centuries.
Sixteen years old.
Memory aligned instantly.
This was before everything fell apart.
A faint, dangerous smile formed.
"So death wasn't the end after all…"
Somewhere beyond this world, Heaven watched.
And it had made a mistake.