Prologue: The Call of a Faint Echo
The night was still, and Ling Yu sat alone at the worn wooden desk in his Ningcheng University dorm, clutching a yellowed page from a notebook. It was a relic left by his mother, the ink faded yet radiating a faint warmth. His fingers traced the paper, and her image flickered in his mind—frail but resolute, always whispering by his bedside, "Yu'er, remember your own path."
A sudden chill snaked through the window crack, and the dim light flickered. He looked up. The night outside was an inky void, but a strange glow pierced it—pale blue, fractured, like a wound torn across the sky. A weak, raspy voice echoed in his ears, familiar yet haunting: "Ling Yu… save me…"
He jolted to his feet, heart pounding. The voice wasn't of this world—it struck deep into his soul, like a forgotten memory stirring awake. He had dreamed of this: a shadowy figure reaching out in darkness, tears glinting in their eyes, calling his name. Upon waking, he'd dismissed it as exhaustion, but now, the name slipped from his lips: "Ruiya?"
The crack outside widened, stars twisting into a frozen tableau suspended in the air. Driven by instinct, Ling Yu stumbled out of the dorm, racing toward the cliff behind the campus. The wind died, time seemed to halt, and his watch froze at 3:33 AM. The crack morphed into a door, mist swirling within, whispers seeping out—countless voices entwined, yet none seemed to speak.
Standing at the cliff's edge, his hands trembled. The voice returned, now laced with endless sorrow: "I'm sorry… if only I had understood sooner…" A sharp pain stabbed his chest, as if he'd lost something irreplaceable. His mother's face merged with this unknown "Ruiya," and gritting his teeth, he stepped forward.
The ground vanished beneath him, replaced by a sea of floating consciousness. The world unraveled—campus, city, his past—dissolving into shards of light. A blinding white engulfed everything, and countless gazes bore into him, cold and invasive. Memories flooded in: the helplessness by his mother's sickbed, the loneliness of sleepless nights, the doubts about his future—all laid bare, stripped and judged by an unseen force.
A mechanical voice echoed in his mind: "Identification complete. Host: Ling Yu, authentication successful." The whiteness faded, revealing a corridor woven from shimmering light bands. Transparent windows floated in the air, each framing a different "him"—fighting in strange worlds, pondering in futuristic towers, gazing godlike over galaxies.
A man stepped from the light, his face nearly identical to Ling Yu's, silver-blue flames dancing in his eyes. His voice was low and resonant: "Welcome to the nexus of fate. I am you, and the you yet to become. From this moment, your choices will shape everything."
Ling Yu took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the windows of alternate selves. "Then let me face it," he murmured, resolve hardening.
Dream Prelude: The Shattered Call
Ling Yu jolted awake on his narrow dorm bed, breath ragged. In his dream, he stood in boundless darkness, broken stars strewn beneath him like a torn celestial veil. A figure emerged from the mist, short hair swaying, tears shimmering in her eyes. She reached out, her voice hoarse yet familiar: "Ling Yu… save me…" He lunged toward her, but a sharp pang yanked him back—to his mother's face, frail yet warm, whispering, "Yu'er, remember your own path."
The figure turned, her back fading into the fog, leaving a name: "Ruiya…" His heart clenched, and he snapped awake, cold sweat beading on his forehead. The night outside was deep, the dorm light flickering erratically. Shaking his head, he chalked it up to fatigue—until he noticed the old notebook clutched in his hand. On the yellowed page, faint words caught his eye: "When the crack appears, don't be afraid."
He froze. Before he could study it further, an odd sound drifted from the window—a pale blue glow descended, ripping the night sky like a wound. The voice returned: "Ling Yu…" Heart racing, he leapt up, bolted from the dorm, and sprinted toward the cliff behind the campus.
To be continued…