The sun set over the horizon, its amber glow fading into the cold embrace of twilight. The earth trembled softly beneath the weight of countless footsteps—yet, among the living, Zhen Hao remained unmoved. He stood atop a hill, his gaze fixed on the distant city below, where people lived and died in the span of mere decades. Time, for them, was a precious commodity. For him, it had become an endless river—forever flowing but never reaching its end.
The wind stirred his dark robes, the only thing about him that moved. His face, ageless and flawless, betrayed no sign of the thousands of years he had lived. To those who looked upon him, he appeared as a youth in the prime of life, untouched by age or illness. But in his eyes, there was a weariness that time could never heal. A deep, unspoken burden that weighed on his soul.
"Zhen Hao," came the voice of Elder Yun, drifting to him like a whisper carried on the wind. The old man's voice, though frail in tone, held an unmistakable authority. He appeared from the shadows of a nearby grove, his weathered face etched with the marks of wisdom and sorrow.
Zhen Hao turned to face him, his expression softening, though the emptiness within him remained unchanged. "What is it, Elder?"
Elder Yun's eyes, once sharp as a hawk's, were now clouded with age. But there was a fire behind them, a fire that only grew brighter as he looked at Zhen Hao. "You have come to the crossroads, my child. The time has come to seek what you have been searching for all these years."
The words hit Zhen Hao like a stone sinking into the still waters of his mind. "You know why I am here," he said softly. His voice was deep, yet it carried an undertone of sadness. "I seek the end."
Elder Yun nodded slowly, his long, white beard swaying in the evening breeze. "You seek death. But I ask you, Zhen Hao, what will you do once you find it?"
Zhen Hao's gaze shifted to the ground, the weight of the question pressing on him. "I will be free," he said, though even he knew that these words felt hollow. "Freedom from this... eternity."
The elder's lips tightened as he stepped closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate. "Death is not the freedom you think it is. It is merely a transition—one you do not yet understand. And the path you seek is fraught with dangers you cannot begin to comprehend."
Zhen Hao met his gaze. "I have lived through the rise and fall of entire civilizations. I have watched friends, lovers, and family pass away in the blink of an eye, while I remain untouched by the hands of time. I have long outlived my purpose. To live forever is to be a prisoner, shackled to a world that moves on without me."
Elder Yun studied him carefully, his face unreadable. Then, he sighed. "The world does not revolve around you, Zhen Hao. There are forces at work in this universe far greater than your personal suffering. You were cursed with immortality for a reason, and it is not for you to undo. There is a price to be paid for tampering with the order of things."
Zhen Hao clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes narrowing. "I am no longer the man I once was. I've spent centuries searching for answers, and all I have found are empty promises. If I must pay the price to end this torment, then so be it."
The elder's voice softened, his tone laced with pity. "You may find what you seek, but you will not find peace. The path you choose will unravel the fabric of the universe itself. Do you understand what that means?"
Zhen Hao's expression hardened. "I do not fear the consequences."
Elder Yun studied him for a long moment, his silence heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. Finally, he spoke, his voice a low murmur. "You must seek the Soul Rebirth technique. It is said to hold the key to breaking the curse of immortality. But it is a dangerous, forbidden art, one that few have ever attempted. And even fewer have survived it."
A flicker of interest crossed Zhen Hao's face, though it was quickly smothered by the mask of indifference he had perfected over the centuries. "Where can I find it?"
Elder Yun turned away, his old body shuddering as if with some hidden pain. "There are no maps, no clear paths. The technique was lost to time, hidden away by those who feared its power. You will have to venture into the forgotten lands, past the realms of mortals and immortals alike, where the ancient knowledge resides."
Zhen Hao's mind raced. Forgotten lands? Ancient knowledge? These were things he had heard of only in the whispers of long-dead sages. But if this technique truly existed, it was his only hope.
"I will find it," he said, his voice quiet but resolute.
Elder Yun's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, a mixture of sadness and worry in his gaze. "The journey you are about to undertake is fraught with peril. You will face more than mere enemies—what you seek will force you to confront the very nature of existence itself. There will be temptations, illusions, and trials that will test you to your very core."
Zhen Hao nodded, though he already knew this. He had lived through countless trials, seen countless faces, and walked countless paths. But none had led him to freedom.
"I have no choice," he whispered. "I cannot continue like this."
Elder Yun placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm despite his frailty. "Then go, my child. But know this: the road you walk will not lead to the end you expect. Whether you find release or destruction, only time will tell."
Zhen Hao turned, his gaze sweeping over the land one last time. The city below, the people, the fleeting moments of their lives—they were all so far removed from him now. He could no longer find solace in their fleeting happiness. The only way out was forward.
With one final glance at the elder, he stepped into the darkness, the first steps of his final journey.