In the boundless expanse of the Celestial Abyss, Xian Lu stood alone, his figure an ethereal silhouette amidst a swirling canvas of stars. Time here did not exist in the way mortals understood it—everything was still, infinite, and yet utterly devoid of meaning. It was a place where the concepts of space, time, and even reality itself became blurred and mutable. Yet, within this grand emptiness, Xian Lu felt the full weight of his existence.
His once fiery eyes, blazing with the intensity of a thousand ambitions, were now dull with a weariness that could never be shaken. Despite the endless vistas of beauty—galaxies spiraling in perfect symmetry, nebulae that hummed with the whispers of forgotten histories, worlds in their infancy, and worlds on the verge of collapse—he saw nothing that stirred his soul anymore.
Xian Lu had attained power that transcended even the gods. He could bend the very fabric of the universe to his will, craft entire realms with a mere flick of his wrist, and make time itself bend and break at his command. Yet, all of this had become an empty cycle. An eternal dance with no partner, no rhythm.
"I have lived for eons," he thought to himself, his voice silent but echoing in the depths of his mind. "I have shaped and destroyed worlds, and yet, there is nothing that fills this hollow space within me."
He turned his gaze outward, toward the distant edges of the Abyss where the mortal realms existed. He had visited them countless times, peering in from the heights of his divine realm. Mortals were fleeting creatures, living in the blink of an eye compared to his timeless existence. They were fragile, their lives shaped by a thousand unpredictable forces. Yet, for all their limitations, they possessed something that he had long lost: purpose. Every mortal moment seemed laden with meaning because it was finite, and in that finiteness, there was beauty.
Xian Lu clenched his fist, the stars in his palm flickering with an ancient light. "What is it to be alive?" he wondered aloud, though there was no one to hear him. "To experience time as a fleeting moment rather than an eternal stretch of endless stillness. To live within a beginning and an end, to taste the joys and sorrows that come with such limitations…"
It was then that something stirred within him—an ancient yearning that he had not felt in countless ages. A desire that he had long forgotten: to experience life as a mortal. To walk among those bound by the same forces that had once governed his existence. To know what it was like to be fragile, fleeting, and mortal.
Xian Lu was no stranger to transformation. Throughout his existence, he had taken many forms—shapeshifting, altering his essence to match the needs of the moment. But this was different. This time, he was not simply changing his appearance or his powers. He was giving up his very essence. He would shed his immortality and return to the world of mortals, where he would live and die just like they did.
And so, with a single thought, Xian Lu began the process. His body, once a shining figure of celestial might, began to shift and transform. His glowing skin, suffused with cosmic energy, faded into something more ordinary, more human. His hair darkened from shimmering silver to a deep black, and his once radiant eyes softened to a more muted brown. The infinite power that surged through his veins withdrew, leaving only the fragility of a mortal being.
He closed his eyes as the final remnants of his immortality slipped away, replaced by the weight of mortality. His body no longer felt as if it were made of light, but of flesh and bone. The constant hum of the universe around him quieted, and the stillness of the Celestial Abyss gave way to the chaotic pulse of life.
Xian Lu opened his eyes and took his first mortal breath. It was sharp and cold, filling his lungs in a way that felt both foreign and familiar. He was no longer an eternal being, untouched by time. He was now bound by it, as every mortal was.
He gazed down at his hands, feeling the delicate pulse of his heartbeat beneath his skin. He could hear the rush of blood through his veins, the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart. For the first time in ages, he felt vulnerable—fragile, even.
Xian Lu stepped forward, taking in the familiar yet unfamiliar landscape before him. The world was no longer the endless expanse of stars and galaxies, but a lush, green field stretching into the horizon. The air smelled of earth and rain, and he could hear the distant calls of birds and the rustling of leaves in the wind. It was a simple world, a world where everything was bound by time, by cycles. A world where every living thing, from the smallest ant to the largest tree, experienced the inevitable march of life.
He closed his eyes and let the wind play with his hair. This was what he had been seeking—this simple, mortal experience. The very fragility of it, the knowledge that life could be lost in an instant, made every breath feel more significant.
Xian Lu began to walk, his feet sinking into the soft earth with each step. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to move. He needed to feel something, anything, that would ground him in this new existence. He needed to understand what it meant to be alive in the truest sense of the word.
As he walked, his mind wandered back to the immortality he had once known. It had been a realm of limitless potential, a place where nothing was impossible. And yet, it had all been so empty. He had crafted universes, built kingdoms, and defeated gods, but none of it had brought him peace. He had sought to understand the meaning of existence, but the more he gained, the more he realized that power alone could not fill the emptiness within him.
It was in that moment that he realized something crucial. He had been so focused on the infinite, on the eternal, that he had forgotten the value of the finite. Mortals lived in a world where every moment mattered because they were fleeting. They cherished the simple things—the sound of laughter, the warmth of the sun, the taste of a good meal—because they knew that time was their greatest enemy.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow across the sky, Xian Lu sat down on a patch of grass, staring at the horizon. The light slowly faded, replaced by the first twinkling stars of the evening. For the first time in what felt like centuries, Xian Lu felt truly present. He was no longer an observer from afar, watching the dance of life through the eyes of a god. He was a part of it now—a small, fragile, but living part of the world.
The journey ahead of him would be long, and he did not know what awaited him. But in that moment, as the stars began to shine brightly overhead, Xian Lu felt a spark of something he hadn't felt in eons—hope.