He woke to the light of the sky above him, but it wasn't a sky he knew. The air had changed; it was thick, buzzing with noise from the endless machines below. He rubbed his eyes, wiping off the layers of dust that seemed to have settled into him during his long slumber. The place, the world, looked strange. Unfamiliar.
His name was Shen, once a mighty cultivator. His was a power borne of centuries, his body tempered by blood and flame, his soul twisted and reborn.
He'd lived through battles, through wars, and he'd tasted the sweetness of victory as much as the bitterness of defeat. But time, as it often did, had caught up with him. He'd spent too long searching for an escape from death, buried in the deepest tomb of his own making.
And now, somehow, here he was.
He raised his hand, feeling the rawness of it. He hadn't known what to expect when he'd passed into that ancient void, but certainly not this. The sky was broken. The land teemed with motion, with flashing lights that seemed to scream in a language he couldn't understand. But he was a cultivator. He had conquered gods and monsters alike; what was this world to him?
Shen took a step forward, his bare feet making no sound against the concrete. The ground vibrated beneath him, an unnerving hum, the kind he could feel deep in his bones. It was not the hum of spiritual energy.
It was the hum of something far more primal, far more unsettling. He paused and breathed it in, the air heavy with unseen forces. He could taste the power beneath the surface, a source that had nothing to do with cultivation, but something else entirely.
He didn't care. He would use it. Like all things, it could be bent to his will.
He turned his gaze toward the city. It sprawled in front of him, stretching for miles, alive with activity. Strange, metallic beasts roared through the streets, crushing anything that dared cross their path. People walked in droves, staring into little glowing squares in their hands. None of them looked at each other, none of them saw him. They were too busy, too consumed in their own little worlds.
He sneered.
This city, this world, was ripe for the taking. He knew it, could taste it in the air. No one here could stand against him. Not the men. Not the women. Not even the machines.
His gaze moved from one face to the next, studying them. He could see their weakness, their pathetic, desperate desires. They were ruled by their emotions, their lusts, their fears. Their lives were governed by the hunger for power, for wealth, for pleasure.
Shen knew how to take what he wanted. He had taken it before, from men far stronger than the pathetic souls below him. And he would do it again. The world would kneel at his feet, and those who refused would be crushed beneath him.
A plan began to form in his mind. First, he would take control. Then, he would build his harem. Yes, a harem. He would claim them, one by one, as they all craved submission. They would serve him, worship him. And when the time was right, when they were all in his power, he would unleash hell upon them. They would know their place, or they would die.
------
The next few weeks passed in a blur, Shen's mind focused only on his goal. He started with the underworld, where the real power lay, hidden beneath the shiny surface of this modern world. His presence was like a ghost, an unseen force, working through the cracks in the system.
He killed with brutal efficiency. One by one, the leaders fell. Their bodies dropped to the ground, lifeless and bloodied, and the people around them cowered, desperate to save their own skins.
It wasn't enough.
Shen wanted more. He wanted to break the city, to feel the entire world tremble beneath his feet. He wanted them to know fear, true fear, the kind that only a god could inspire.
The nights grew colder, darker. The city, once so full of life and movement, now felt like a tomb. The people moved slower, their eyes darting around nervously, as if they sensed something closing in on them, something dangerous. They did not know what they feared, but they feared it all the same.
Shen's power grew. He fed on their fear, their uncertainty, twisting it, warping it into his own strength. The weak were swept aside, their lives meaningless. Only the strongest, the most powerful, would remain in his world.
But even the strongest had weaknesses.
------
It was in a dark alleyway, in a part of the city no one dared enter, where he met her. She was nothing like the others. She stood tall, her eyes cold and calculating, her expression unreadable. She didn't flinch when she saw him. She didn't even blink.
"You've been killing, haven't you?" Her voice was calm, almost distant.
Shen's lip curled into a sneer. "I do what I must to achieve my goals."
Her gaze never wavered. "Your goals. But what do you really want? Power? Control? Or something else? What are you really afraid of, Shen?"
Her words hit him harder than any blow he had ever received. He'd spent so long building his own fortress of arrogance, of indifference. But in that moment, he realized something. He was afraid. Afraid that the power he had fought for was nothing more than a hollow shell, a brittle mask that could shatter in an instant.
She stepped forward, closer now, and he felt a sudden coldness grip him. It was unlike any chill he had ever known, a coldness that seemed to seep into his very bones.
She reached out, her fingers grazing his arm, and he shuddered. Her touch was unnatural. It was like the cold of the grave, the cold of death itself. His heart raced.
And then she smiled, a cruel, knowing smile. "You think you've won, Shen, but you've only set yourself up for a fall. Power comes at a price. And you, like all the others, will pay it."
------
The world began to change. Shen could feel it, like a weight pressing against his chest, slowly suffocating him. The city became quieter, the people more fearful. It wasn't long before he realized he was no longer the predator. He was the prey.
The power he had taken, the harem he had built, the destruction he had wrought—they all turned against him. He couldn't understand it. He had been so careful, so meticulous. How had it all gone wrong?
His harem, once filled with loyalty, now stared at him with hatred in their eyes. They no longer served him. They didn't fear him.
Shen's hands trembled as he stood in the center of the city, surrounded by the ruins of his ambitions. The world had turned its back on him, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it.
The people were rising up, reclaiming the power he had stolen, and there was nothing he could do. His strength, once so absolute, had begun to fade, slipping through his fingers like sand.
He had been too sure of himself. Too arrogant. Now, the very world he had sought to conquer was rejecting him.
He fell to his knees, the weight of his failure crushing him. There was no escaping this. There was no victory. The world had moved on without him. And as the last remnants of his power bled away, he realized something worse than death—he was forgotten.
The coldness from before returned, wrapping around him like a vice. He looked up to see her again, standing just out of reach, watching him fall.
"You were never meant to rule, Shen," she said, her voice soft but final.
And with that, Shen's world shattered.