In the Dark Side of the Origin Universe, where the River of Fate is woven from the fates of all beings, and the River of Time flows endlessly, branching with every choice, a subtle ripple disturbed the stillness. That faint disturbance within the Dark Side did not go unnoticed. A few fate threads quietly vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed. At the same time, the River of Time stirred — its flow shifting slightly as new branches emerged from its current.
Somewhere in the hidden depths of the Upper Realm, a being known only as "Original" opened his eyes. Drawn by quiet curiosity, his gaze pierced through the wall that separated the Light Side from the Dark. He focused on the disturbance in the rivers of fate and time.
'Oh? How many eras has it been since the trajectories of both rivers shifted together…?'
His gaze lingered on the spot where the fate threads vanished and new branches in the River of Time were born.
'Could this be… a sign of a Nexus Variable?'
Original narrowed his eyes slightly, as if calculating something in silence. Then, his gaze pierced toward the Lower Realm, cutting through layers of distance without effort.
He peered toward the Eastern Continent… and his sight settled on a lone youth, no older than sixteen, making his way toward a distant city.
'Is he the Nexus Variable?'
'He wasn't supposed to cultivate.'
But as the ancient being's gaze slowly withdrew, the rivers returned to their quiet course—though beneath that stillness, the roots of change had already taken hold.
And far below, in a quiet village few would ever remember, the true cause of that disturbance remained unnoticed. It was still too small, too quiet, and much too early.
___
In the Lower Realm, on the eastern edge of the Eastern Continent, nestled at the forest's edge, lay a quiet place known as Gentle Spring Village.
That morning, the village stirred with rare liveliness. At the only path leading out, villagers had gathered—some with bright smiles, others with silent envy or quiet admiration—as they bid farewell to a youth who had never stood out until recently.
Luo Haoran.
He was kind, if a little reserved. Not someone the village had paid much attention to in the past, yet today, he walked with purpose, heading toward Stone Sky City. The Verdant Sky Sect was holding their recruitment, and he had been invited. What realm he would step into, how far he would go—no one could say.
Amid the parting crowd, unnoticed by most, a small girl was being carried in her mother's arms.
Ren watched from Chen Yu's arms as the villagers cheered and waved, sending Luo Haoran off like he was some kind of hero. A simple farewell, full of noise and warmth.
He remained silent.
The woman rocking him Chen Yu smiled gently, completely unaware of the quiet dissonance buried beneath those young, unblinking eyes.
'Tch… being held like this again.'
He didn't frown, but the distaste curled somewhere deep within.
'I'm still a man. No matter what this body looks like. No matter how everyone calls me her.'
Her fingers twitched slightly, the only sign of resistance.
'I can't even walk on my own legs. And a woman has to carry me around like a glass doll.'
The cheers in the distance faded.
Luo Haoran's back disappeared beyond the treeline, while Ren—silent and motionless—continued to endure the indignity of helplessness.
'…How long will I have to bear this?'
As the noise died down and Luo Haoran's back vanished into the forest, Ren's gaze lingered. He didn't know the youth. But watching the villagers send him off with reluctant pride stirred something old and bitter in his chest.
'Climbing up always feels like leaving something behind.'
He recalled how, in his past life, the higher he rose, the fewer familiar faces he kept. Friends he'd grown up with, laughed with—slowly became distant. He had told himself it was natural. Necessary. But still, they stopped calling. Stopped looking him in the eye.
'It starts small. Then one day, you don't recognize the people who once mattered.'
He looked away.
'Cultivators... do they feel it too?'