In a realm so profoundly dark that it seemed the very essence of the abyss, a void stretched infinitely, consuming all traces of light. To gaze upon this darkness was to risk being swallowed whole by its nothingness. Yet, within this endless void, a solitary, dim light persisted—a defiant glow amid the consuming blackness.
If one looked closely, they would discern the translucent figure of a man within that faint luminescence. Despite his near-ethereal transparency, his majesty and godlike handsomeness were unmistakable. Every subtle movement exuded an aura of supremacy. He possessed a sharp jawline framed by flowing, luminescent white hair, and his eyes burned with a demonic red glow. It was evident that he had transcended mortality itself. Even the mightiest gods or emperors ruling over trillions would appear as mere commoners in his presence.
This was none other than The Progenitor of Dragons—an entity existing since the universe's inception. Progenitors were not only the originators of their species but also its most formidable members. Their immense power commanded both reverence and fear from all within their lineage.
Few knew his true name, for uttering it bore a 99.999% chance of meeting a horrific demise. As the saying goes, "If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." To speak his name was to draw his attention, and the mere gaze of this omnipotent being could annihilate any ordinary soul.
Now, this ancient and unfathomably powerful entity stood in the void, smiling and laughing. His laughter resonated with such force that the entire abyss trembled, as if the darkness itself feared him.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" he bellowed. "Finally, I am going to ascend in this reincarnation."
With those words, he gazed upward and beyond, his sight piercing through the very fabric of reality. His eyes cut across the universe, tearing through multiple dimensions, until they settled upon a palace as vast as a galaxy, nestled in an unknown realm. Yet, as his gaze reached the magnificent palace, an even more formidable force emerged, severing his sight as effortlessly as one might swat away an insect. Despite being one of the most powerful beings since time immemorial, he was nothing before the mysterious presence within that palace.
"Haha! As expected. I will soon be there," he mused.
As he ceased his gaze, the white light enveloping him began to transform, shifting into a radiant gold. The golden glow intensified, expanding until it spanned a thousand meters in length and width. A rift opened in the dimension, and the light surged into the unknown void beyond. Its destination? Even The Progenitor of Dragons did not know.
An indeterminate amount of time later...
It was midnight in a dense, shadowy forest. A lone figure darted through the trees, moving so swiftly that she surpassed the speed of sound tenfold. Yet, astonishingly, her passage caused no disturbance—no shockwaves, no rustling of leaves.
Upon closer inspection, one would notice that the figure was grievously wounded, teetering on the brink of death. Just as she was about to collapse and succumb to unconsciousness, the sky above tore open with a massive rift. The energy it released was so immense that the entire continent quaked. From the rift emerged two beams of golden light, each shooting off in different directions at speeds impossible to track, even for the most powerful beings on the continent.
One of these golden rays hurtled toward the injured figure. She had no time to react; the light moved at near-light speed. As the beam struck her abdomen, she instinctively checked herself, discovering to her astonishment that she was now pregnant. Her eyes widened in shock. Yet, she also noticed that some of her wounds had healed—a reprieve that might just allow her to reach her destination.
This phenomenon was beyond anything she had ever encountered, but there was no time to ponder it. Shaking off her stupor, she resumed her flight, aware that her protective talisman was nearly depleted. She needed to reach safety before her energy ran out.
For thirty minutes she traveled, covering thousands of miles, until she finally arrived at her hideout—a small hut nestled beside a serene, emerald pond. Without hesitation, she burst inside and activated all the protective wards to safeguard her while she was incapacitated.
As she entered, her strength waned dangerously. She knew she had less than half a minute before unconsciousness would claim her, perhaps even death. Desperate, she began frantically searching through her spatial ring for healing potions and medicines. Lacking the time and energy for careful selection, she emptied its contents, grabbing anything that might stabilize her condition. The world around her grew darker with each passing second.
She consumed countless priceless elixirs and remedies, her hands moving with blistering speed—fifty potions every five seconds. Five seconds passed, then ten, twenty, and as the thirtieth second elapsed, she could hold on no longer. Darkness enveloped her vision. Yet, in her final moment of consciousness, she managed to collapse onto the hut's sole bed, positioning herself carefully to avoid discomforting the child within her.
Her fate remained uncertain...