Lu Chen's fingers hovered above the glowing console, the [Designate Path?] prompt blinking urgently before him. The patterns on the interface shimmered, fluctuating with strange energy. It was as if the very fabric of the universe was being coded right before his eyes.
Suddenly, the console shuddered.
A sharp, piercing tone sliced through the air—a vibration that seemed to resonate within the very marrow of his bones. His head spun, his vision blurring as the world around him trembled.
[Warning: Interference detected.]
[Alignment instability rising.]
[Compatibility: 87.4% → 53.1% → 32.8%...]
The light on the console flickered violently, as if something far beyond his control was tearing at the fabric of reality itself.
"No…" Lu Chen's voice faltered as he took a step back, gripping the edge of the console.
"What's happening?"
He realized with growing dread that it wasn't just the console malfunctioning—it was something far worse. The very void itself was unraveling. The space around him trembled, as if the laws of existence were warping, collapsing under an unseen force.
He felt it then—a sharp, suffocating pressure in his chest. A weight that seemed to press against his very soul. His presence here, his existence, was weakening with every passing second.
It's the chaos. The realization struck him like a thunderclap.
The Celestial Net—the ancient lattice of fate and order—was buckling under the strain. The world he had glimpsed moments earlier, that faint understanding of the grand design, was beginning to slip away from him. The pattern of heaven he had seen flickered in his mind, but the threads were growing frayed, pulled apart by the very interference that now assailed him.
The void was collapsing.
He could feel it—a spiraling, suffocating descent into oblivion. Every part of him screamed to hold on, but his connection to the console, to the Net, was slipping. The control he had fought so hard to grasp was slipping from his grasp.
But then, through the overwhelming chaos, something deep within him stirred. His mind, sharp despite the panic, made sense of the code that had been laid before him—the language of the heavens itself, the architecture of fate, the very code that underpinned all existence.
He could still fight. He could still—
The light on the console fractured, breaking apart as the reality around him bent. The void itself began to warp, the space tearing and pulling at his essence. Desperation gripped him, but he refused to falter.
His fingers moved of their own accord, not pressing buttons but guiding the system, aligning the flow of energy. His thoughts flowed through the code, resonating with the ancient design. He focused, grasping the remnants of the Net, threading his will through the cracks. The console flickered violently as the system reacted to his interference.
And then, a crack formed in the fabric of the void. The edge of reality split open, a sliver of light cutting through the infinite darkness.
"Lu Chen!"
The voice was louder now, more insistent. Hands were on him, pulling him up.
The memories, the alternate selves, the endless paths of fate—they all converged upon him, and it was too much. He couldn't process it all. His head spun, and the world around him seemed to fracture into a million pieces. His body trembled, torn between pain and confusion.
And then, the hands were there again, firm and grounding. Xiao Li's face appeared before him, his expression filled with concern, his eyes filled with worry. But beneath that, there was something else. Something that shone with a kind of unwavering determination.
"Xiao Li…" Lu Chen's voice was weak, barely a whisper. The shock still gripped him. The pain of the memories, the sudden influx of who he could have been, was too much to bear.
"You're okay," Xiao Li said, his voice steady but tinged with relief. "I've got you."
Lu Chen struggled to focus, his thoughts scattered like broken fragments. He could feel Xiao Li's presence, feel the warmth of his touch, and yet the memories continued to press in, suffocating him. The weight of a thousand lives, a thousand choices, all came crashing down on him at once. This was not the Xiao Li he remembered from his last life. No. This was another. One from a thousand years later.
"I'm… I'm not sure what just happened," Lu Chen muttered, his eyes flickering in and out of focus. "What is this place?"
"This is a space between spaces," Xiao Li explained, his voice a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos. "A place where the alternate paths of existence converge. Where you can see all the lives you could have lived, and all the ones you didn't."
Lu Chen closed his eyes, breathing shallowly as he tried to make sense of it all. The pain from the memories faded into something else—something deeper, more existential. He felt as if he were being remade, his very essence reshaped by the flood of what he had seen.
The sheer weight of it all—of who he had been and who he could have been—felt like a crushing force, suffocating him. He wanted to scream, but no sound came. His mind swam in dissonance. This can't be real.
But then, a voice—Xiao Li's voice—cut through the haze. "Lu Chen, you don't have much time. I can't explain everything. You'll have to find me soon… or maybe before I die. Then the truth will be revealed. But listen to me," he continued, his tone urgent, "Don't believe in the memories you're seeing. They're not yours."
"Xiao Li," Lu Chen rasped, his confusion deepening. "What do you mean? Why can't I trust them? What's happening?"
But before Xiao Li could answer, something shifted in the air around them. A deep, unearthly sound filled the space, like a pulse from the heart of the void. The very atmosphere quivered, warping as something terrible began to materialize.
The figures emerged, formless at first—like shifting shadows, amorphous and shifting. But as they came into view, they became something else entirely—grotesque, monstrous, the kind of beings that existed outside the natural laws of the universe. Their eyes, too many to count, glowed with an eerie, unnatural light. Their forms bent in impossible ways, like Lovecraftian horrors, twisting in dimensions that defied understanding.
A cold, creeping dread surged through Lu Chen's body. No. This can't be happening. Not again.
Xiao Li turned to face the creatures, his expression hardening. There was no fear in his eyes—only resolve, tempered by exhaustion. The exhaustion of someone who had lived through a thousand battles and seen the world burn a thousand times over.
"I'm sorry," Xiao Li muttered, his voice filled with regret. "I thought I had more time. But … "
"Xiao Li!" Lu Chen's voice cracked, desperate to hold onto something, to not lose him again.
"Don't follow me, Lu Chen," Xiao Li said sharply, turning away. "I need to hold them off for you. You need to escape. Now."
"No! I'm not leaving you!" Lu Chen shouted, his body trembling with the strain of the memories and the weight of the emotions crashing over him.
But Xiao Li did not relent. With a final, fierce glance, he pushed Lu Chen with all his strength, sending him tumbling backward through the space, far from the impending horror.
"Go!" Xiao Li shouted, his voice the last thread of sanity in the madness. "Find me, or it will all be lost."
And then, the figures descended.
Xiao Li's figure flickered as he summoned all the strength he had left, his body glowing with a fierce, otherworldly light. His energy flared, and in that moment, Lu Chen saw the truth—the sacrifice, the burden Xiao Li had carried across time. But there was no time to mourn, no time to process the loss. The space between spaces was collapsing, and Lu Chen was torn away, sent spiraling into the endless abyss.