Land Of The Beginning
For as long as anyone could remember, the world had always been this way: a sprawling land that stretched endlessly to the horizon, locked beneath an unyielding, artificial sky. The sun rose and set like clockwork, its rays warm but hollow. The clouds drifted lazily, but their movements were predictable, rehearsed. Even the stars at night were nothing more than twinkling lights on a painted canvas.
This was not a world of freedom. This was a cage.
The walls that encased the land were titanic, towering a thousand feet into the air, their surfaces smooth and impenetrable. They surrounded everything, cutting off any hope of escape. Above them, a ceiling so vast it mimicked the heavens, its artistry so convincing that those born here rarely questioned its authenticity. To them, this was reality. To the observant, it was a beautiful lie.
This prison was vast, incomprehensibly so. Over three million square miles of land stretched beneath the artificial sky, the size of a continent. Forests thrived, rivers meandered, and mountains rose high, yet the edges always loomed—a reminder that freedom was a distant dream.
And yet, for all its immensity, this land was but a single floor.
The people here called it The Land of the Beginning, though its origins were shrouded in mystery. Its name bore an ominous weight, a cruel reminder that no one had ever moved beyond it. Stories told of other levels—999 more floors stacked above this one, each said to hold secrets and wonders beyond imagination. But humanity had remained bound here for over 2,000 years, unable to ascend even a single step.
Generations passed, and the walls became a part of life. No one alive had ever seen what lay beyond them, only the faint promise of a higher purpose whispered through ancient texts and forgotten legends. Some believed the floors above were paradises, realms of gods. Others thought they were worse than this prison, places where only the strong could survive.
But the truth?
The truth was as fake as the sun above.
Life here was a carefully maintained illusion, designed to keep humanity stagnant, complacent. The ground yielded crops, the water flowed pure, but it was all a gift from their captors, whoever—or whatever—they were. There were no natural disasters, no external threats, only the constant, gnawing knowledge that this was not how things were meant to be.
Every few decades, someone would dare to challenge the status quo, setting out on a journey to find a way out. They sought the edges of the walls, the rumored pathways to the next floor. None ever returned.
The Land of the Beginning was not a home. It was a test. A place where humanity was meant to prove itself, to grow stronger, to ascend. Yet for millennia, humanity had failed.
Was it fear? Complacency? Or had the challenges of this land truly been insurmountable?
The answer lay hidden, buried in the very fabric of this world. For now, the Land of the Beginning remained as it always had—vast, unchanging, and waiting.
Waiting for the one who would break the cycle.
Waiting for the one who would defy the gods and ascend to the next floor.
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[FYI: This novel is fast-paced, so dont complain about how fast the story progresses.]
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[And also, Im a new author and I just started writing. Since english isn't my first language, my grammar might be a little wobbly.]
