The Heavenly Tribulation did not roar.
It descended.
Layer upon layer of divine lightning tore through the sky, each strike carrying the will of Heaven itself. The Divine Heavenly Void Emperor stood beneath it, robes in tatters, body already cracking under pressure that denied his very existence.
"So Heaven chooses annihilation over submission…"
His voice was calm.
Lightning fell.
His body shattered.
His cultivation collapsed.
His soul screamed as divine authority tried to erase him from all timelines.
But the Void did not disappear.
It fractured.
Falling endlessly, his consciousness dimmed—until he felt something fragile brush against him.
Another soul.
Small. Weak. Trembling.
A boy who had lived his entire life being called trash.
When the boy's soul touched his own, the shattered Void Emperor realized something—
He could not survive alone.
The fusion happened silently.
No light. No rebirth chant.
Only two broken existences clinging together.
Then—darkness ended.
A heartbeat sounded.
Lungs filled with air.
Pain spread through a body far too weak to contain even a fragment of Void authority.
When his eyes opened, he saw an unfamiliar sky.
Not Heaven.
Not Earth.
A cultivation world.
"…Reincarnation," he whispered.
Not as an emperor.
But as the weakest existence beneath the heavens.