Zhuo reached for the door, ready to leave, but something stopped him.
A shift.
An almost imperceptible ripple in the air.
His senses sharpened instantly, his instincts screaming before his mind even had time to process.
Faint blue light.
It flickered into existence before Seraphine, a holographic projection materializing from thin air. The glow pulsed like a living thing, casting ghostly patterns across the cold walls of the room.
Zhuo's fingers stilled on the door handle.
His pupils contracted.
His breath slowed.
Not because of surprise—no, surprise wasn't the right word.
It was something deeper. Something familiar.
His body didn't move, but every fiber of his being was suddenly alert.
Slowly, he turned back to face Seraphine, his eyes narrowing as he studied the glowing interface.
Something churned in his chest.
Something ancient.
Something forgotten.
"...What's that?" His voice was calm, but beneath it, there was an unspoken edge—one even he couldn't quite mask.
Seraphine froze.
For the briefest of moments, she looked caught off guard. A flicker of hesitation. A slight widening of her silver eyes before she quickly masked her reaction.
But Zhuo saw it.
He saw everything.
This thing—this interface—wasn't foreign to her.
It was common knowledge.
And that realization hit Zhuo like a hammer.
Because that meant…
He was the only one who didn't know.
Seraphine recovered quickly, suspicion flashing across her features.
"Are you… an alien or something?" she asked, her voice sharp as she scrutinized him.
Zhuo blinked.
And then, before he could stop himself—
He laughed.
A deep, amused chuckle slipped past his lips, shaking his shoulders slightly. The sheer absurdity of the question caught him off guard.
"Alien? Me?" He let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "Come on, do I really look that weird? I'm as human as they come."
Seraphine didn't look convinced.
Her gaze flicked to the floating blue projection again. "Then why did you react like that?"
Zhuo hesitated, but only for a fraction of a second.
"Curiosity," he said smoothly, flashing a carefree grin.
A lie.
One so flawlessly woven that it almost felt real.
But inside?
Inside, his mind was in turmoil.
His pulse beat erratically beneath his calm exterior.
His thoughts had already left the room, traveling back to a time buried beneath the weight of ten thousand years.
Back to the past.
To him.
________________________
The scene was frozen in eternity, a place beyond time, beyond the reach of any known force. It was a realm where reality bent and folded, where concepts became tangible, and where words alone could shape existence itself.
Zhuo stood upon the endless void, his silhouette illuminated by the distant glow of celestial storms raging in the abyss. Before him, seated on a throne of black stone, was the Old Man.
Zhuo had called him his teacher.
Not in power.
Never in power.
But in understanding.
In wisdom.
Even after all these years, Zhuo still remembered that deep, knowing voice—one that had once spoken to him as if he were nothing more than a reckless child.
And yet—
Even he hesitated now.
The Old Man's deep, knowing gaze rested upon the young figure before him, his expression unreadable.
He had seen Zhuo do many reckless things. Many impossible things.
But this?
This was different.
The void itself trembled as the words fell from his lips, carrying weight far beyond mortal comprehension.
"Kid… do you really want to do this?"
Zhuo stood firm, hands tucked into his pockets, the corners of his lips curling into his signature smirk.
"Do you really need to ask?" he replied, voice dripping with casual arrogance.
The Old Man exhaled through his nose, his expression darkening. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest of his throne, the sound echoing through the endless expanse.
"You know what this means, don't you?"
Zhuo's smirk didn't falter.
"Of course I do."
The Old Man leaned forward, his ancient eyes narrowing.
"The Covenant Codex. Do you truly believe it will overlook this?" His voice carried an edge of warning, an unspoken weight pressing against the very fabric of reality.
Zhuo chuckled, unfazed.
"The Codex owes me once. It won't interfere."
The air stilled.
The void itself seemed to flinch at his words.
The Old Man let out a low, amused laugh, though there was something unnerving about it—something that echoed with knowing.
"The Covenant Codex... owing you?" He let the words roll off his tongue, as if testing their absurdity. "Now that's something I never thought I'd hear. Not even beings far greater than you or me could claim such a thing."
He shook his head, still chuckling.
"Even for me, bending the Covenant Codex is impossible. Yet you say it 'owes' you?" He fixed Zhuo with a piercing look. "I guess you really do have your secrets."
Zhuo simply shrugged, the same playful smirk still tugging at his lips.
"Well," he said, his voice lighthearted, "I suppose it'll just overlook this one time, huh?"
The Old Man sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.
"Kid, what you're doing isn't just creating a system. You're rewriting laws. You're making something that governs people, something that can evolve, something that—" He paused, his voice lowering to something almost reverent, almost fearful.
"Something that can challenge the very rules that hold this reality together."
His fingers stopped tapping against the throne.
He looked at Zhuo, really looked at him.
"And you know exactly what that means."
There were many mysteries in existence.
Realms unseen, truths untold, horrors waiting in the shadows of reality itself.
But among them, one stood above all.
A law. A contract. A force that even the highest beings dared not cross.
The Covenant Codex.
An unseen authority that governed all things.
No one knew where it had come from. No one knew who had written it.
But it existed.
And it was absolute.
It did not govern with emotion. It did not enforce balance out of morality.
It simply was.
A vast, incomprehensible set of laws woven into the very essence of existence itself.
Laws that even gods obeyed.
Some called it fate.
Some called it the fabric of reality.
But those who truly understood it knew better.
The Covenant Codex was not fate.
It was order.
A force beyond divine comprehension, ensuring that reality did not spiral into chaos.
It was what dictated that certain beings could never descend into mortal worlds without consequence.
It was what prevented certain powers from being used freely.
It was what ensured that no single existence could wield absolute authority.
It restricted. It governed.
It was the law that even those at the pinnacle of existence could not defy.
And Zhuo…
Zhuo was about to break it.
The Old Man watched him carefully, searching for doubt.
But there was none.
Zhuo was completely certain.
The Old Man exhaled again. "And what if you're wrong?"
Zhuo tilted his head. "About what?"
The Old Man's eyes narrowed.
"What if the Covenant Codex does interfere?"
Zhuo paused.
Then, slowly, his smirk widened, and he let out a low chuckle.
"Then I guess I'll just have to deal with it."
Silence.
And then—
The Old Man laughed.
A deep, knowing laugh, filled with something unreadable.
He leaned back, rubbing his chin as his laughter settled.
"You reckless brat," he muttered. "Even after all these years, you never change."
Zhuo grinned. "Wouldn't be fun if I did, right?"
The Old Man sighed again but nodded.
"Fine." His fingers traced a pattern in the air, weaving unseen threads of existence into place. "I'll integrate it, as you requested. When you fall, it will activate."
His voice lowered.
"But don't blame me if things get... complicated."
Zhuo just laughed. "Oh, things are always complicated."
The Old Man studied him one last time, and for a brief moment, something flickered in his ancient eyes.
"Very well." His voice grew softer, more solemn. "If you're truly set on this path… Then tell me. What will you call it?"
Zhuo had exhaled, thinking.
Something simple.
Something fitting.
Something mysterious.
"...The Veil Interface."
That was the beginning.
And Zhuo had never expected to see it again.
__________________________
Zhuo's gaze flickered toward the holographic projection before Seraphine once more.
This was it.
His creation.
And yet—
It shouldn't be here.
Not yet.
Not so soon.
The Veil Interface was meant to stabilize humanity after his fall.
Because the Old Man had been right.
Things were complicated.
Very, very complicated.
The Veil Interface should have never activated this soon.
And yet, here it was.
The Covenant Codex had not interfered.
And that, more than anything, was terrifying.
Because it meant something far worse was coming.
Something even the Covenant Codex had deemed more dangerous than his defiance.
Zhuo exhaled quietly, his smirk masking the storm in his mind.
Seraphine's silver eyes studied him, searching for cracks in his mask.
But Zhuo had long since mastered the art of deception.
He yawned lazily, stretching his arms.
"Well," he said, flashing a grin, "this has been fun, but I should really get going."
Seraphine's eyes narrowed.
"...You're just going to leave?"
Zhuo smirked. "Unless you'd prefer I stay? I mean, I wouldn't mind if you served me some tea. Maybe some snacks? You know, proper hospitality."
Seraphine exhaled slowly through her nose, as if resisting the urge to punch him.
"Get. Out."
Zhuo chuckled, finally turning toward the door.
But just before he stepped out, he paused.
For a brief moment, his gaze turned distant.
He thought of the old man.
He thought of his fall.
He thought of the war.
And then, softly, he muttered under his breath, barely a whisper.
"...So, the old man actually did it, huh?"
He stepped through the doorway, leaving behind an unreadable silence.
And as Seraphine watched him go, her fingers unconsciously tightened around the floating interface—because something about him felt far too unnatural for a mere traveler.