The first sensation that registered was heat. It wasn't the kind of searing pain one might expect from being engulfed in flames but an oppressive force, thick and stifling. It pressed in from all sides, clinging to him like a heavy shroud. Breathing felt laborious, the air shallow and smoky. The acrid taste lingered in his throat, yet, curiously, there was no agony. No blisters formed on his skin, no flesh charred. The contradiction gnawed at his senses.
Where am I?
His chest tightened as his eyes snapped open, only to find himself bound to a pole, thick ropes biting into his wrists and ankles. Around him, tongues of fire flickered and danced, their crackles filling the air like mocking laughter. Yet, despite the inferno, his body remained untouched—a peculiar island of calm amid chaos. He strained against his bindings, muscles aching with effort, but they held firm.
Am I… dreaming?
The thought barely surfaced before it was drowned by the harsh reality of his predicament. A sea of faces surrounded him, their expressions a mixture of disdain and cold detachment. The crowd seemed to be from another era, their garb primitive yet ornate, with tunics, cloaks, and jewelry crafted from materials he couldn't recognize. Their eyes bore into him, unyielding, judging. But their faces? Their faces… blurred and shifting, as though they weren't fully real.
Words began to flow from the assembly—a chant in a language he didn't understand. Harsh and guttural, the syllables scratched against the air like claws against stone. Each word seemed to vibrate within him, resonating deep in his chest, pulling at something he couldn't identify. He tried to call out, to demand answers, but his voice refused to obey. The chant grew louder, suffocating his thoughts.
Then he saw her.
At the front of the crowd stood a woman, tall and imposing. She was cloaked in black, her face partially obscured by the shadow of her hood. What little he could see revealed piercing eyes, sharp and cold, and lips set in a cruel line. Her presence commanded attention, radiating authority and malice in equal measure.
"You should not have come here," she said, her voice low but carrying a weight that silenced even the chanting. The crowd's noise died abruptly, leaving only the crackling flames. Her words hit him like a blow. "You do not belong."
What does that mean? he wanted to ask, but the words remained locked inside him. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive.
The woman took a step closer, her gaze never leaving him. "Do you understand what lies ahead?" she asked, though it sounded more like a declaration than a question. "What awaits you is not mercy. It is not salvation. It is the unmaking of all that you are."
The crowd's chant resumed, even louder this time. The ground beneath him seemed to tremble as the flames surged higher, licking at the sky. The heat intensified, yet still, his body felt untouched. The woman's eyes narrowed.
"Do you feel it?" she asked, her tone sharp, accusatory. "The weight of existence unraveling? The truth clawing at the edges of your mind?"
He didn't know how to answer. Panic clawed at his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. The flames twisted and coiled around him, almost alive, their movements hypnotic yet terrifying. The woman raised her arms, and the chanting reached a fever pitch.
"Be undone," she commanded. "And know the cost of defiance."
The flames surged toward him, engulfing his vision. This time, they didn't stop. The heat was overwhelming, suffocating, yet there was still no pain. The fire consumed everything—the pole, the ropes, the air itself—until there was nothing left but darkness.
The void was silent. Absolute.
For a moment, he thought he had ceased to exist. The oppressive weight was gone, replaced by a stillness that felt infinite. Then, a faint sensation stirred—a tug, subtle but insistent. It wasn't physical but something deeper, pulling at the core of his being. He had no body to resist with, no voice to cry out. Yet, he was moving, drawn by an unseen force.
Where am I going?
Light began to seep into the void, faint at first but growing stronger. It wasn't warm or welcoming; it was harsh and cold, like the glow of a distant star. Shapes began to form within the light, indistinct and shifting. A horizon emerged, dividing the nothingness. He couldn't explain how, but he felt himself crossing it.
And then, he awoke.
The air was cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat he had endured. He was lying on his back, staring up at a sky painted in strange, swirling colors—shades of crimson, violet, and gold that moved like living things. The ground beneath him felt rough, uneven, and unfamiliar. He sat up slowly, his body aching but intact.
In the distance, jagged mountains pierced the horizon, their peaks glowing faintly as if lit from within. A vast expanse of barren land stretched before him, dotted with twisted, leafless trees and scattered stones. The air carried a faint hum, an undercurrent of energy that made his skin tingle.
What is this place?
The question echoed in his mind as he surveyed his surroundings. He couldn't remember how he had gotten here, or where "here" even was. His memories were a fragmented mess, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. All he had was the lingering sensation of fire and the image of the woman's piercing gaze.
A sound broke the silence—a faint whisper, carried on the wind. He turned, but there was no one there. The whisper came again, clearer this time.
Seek.
It wasn't a voice, not exactly. It was more like a thought pressed into his mind, foreign yet familiar. The word resonated within him, stirring something he couldn't name.
Seek what? he wondered, but no answer came.
The whisper faded, leaving only the hum of the air. He pushed himself to his feet, unsteady but determined. The barren landscape stretched endlessly before him, offering no guidance, no clear path. Yet, the tug he had felt in the void returned, faint but persistent, urging him forward.
He took a step, then another. The ground crunched beneath his feet, each step feeling heavier than the last. The air seemed to grow thicker, the hum louder. Still, he pressed on, driven by a need he didn't fully understand.
As he walked, the words of the woman echoed in his mind.
"Be undone."
What did she mean? And why had he survived?
The questions gnawed at him, but no answers emerged. All he could do was move forward, step by step, into the unknown.
Unbeknownst to him, the eyes of the Grand Dao watched his every move. Silent and unyielding, they observed as the Seeker took his first steps on the path. The trials had only just begun.