THE BEGINNING OF THE END
Darkness.
An endless darkness stretched beneath the heart of the Tianlong Empire.
Deep below the magnificent Imperial Palace of Jingyuan—beneath layers of stone, forgotten tunnels, and ancient formations that no living soul remembered—a colossal chamber lay hidden from the world.
It was older than the empire itself.
No records spoke of it. No emperor had ever entered it. Through the passing of countless generations, its existence faded into myth, while the secret buried within waited in absolute silence.
Its walls were carved with thousands of glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat, each one feeding an enormous golden seal suspended in the air. Four towering stone statues stood at the chamber's corners: the Azure Dragon, the Vermilion Phoenix, the White Tiger, and the Black Tortoise. Time had worn their faces, but their silent vigilance had never faltered.
For nine hundred and thirty years...
The seal had never weakened.
Until tonight.
Crack.
The sound was so faint that no human ear could have heard it.
A single hairline fracture appeared across the golden seal.
Then another.
And another.
The chamber trembled.
Dust drifted from the ceiling as ancient chains forged from celestial jade rattled against the darkness below.
A low whisper echoed through the abyss.
At first, it was barely more than the wind.
Then it became a voice.
"...Nine hundred and thirty years..."
Silence answered.
"...Have the heavens finally grown weary?"
The fractured seal flickered.
Beneath it, something moved.
Two crimson eyes slowly opened.
They burned like dying suns, filled with endless hatred and unimaginable patience.
"I can feel it..."
The voice was calm now.
Almost pleased.
"The Dragon Soul..."
Far above, the Imperial Palace remained wrapped in peaceful silence.
The emperor slept.
The guards patrolled the palace walls.
The ministers dreamed of power.
None of them knew that the prison beneath their feet had begun to awaken.
A ripple spread through the empire.
In distant mountain temples, ancient bronze bells rang without a single hand touching them.
Sword cultivators paused as the flow of Celestial Qi became strangely unstable.
Spirit beasts lifted their heads toward the night sky and howled.
Across forgotten shrines, weathered dragon murals shed flakes of stone as though they were coming alive.
High above the clouds, the full moon slowly turned crimson.
Only for a single breath.
Then it returned to normal.
Most people dismissed it as an illusion.
But the oldest sages looked to the heavens with fear in their eyes.
One whispered a name that had not been spoken for centuries.
"The Celestial Mandate..."
Deep beneath the palace, the crimson eyes narrowed.
"The child has awakened."
A slow, chilling laugh echoed through the endless darkness.
Not loud.
Not wild.
Only certain.
"Heaven has made its move."
"...Now it is my turn."
The laughter continued long after the chamber fell silent.
Above the sleeping empire, thousands of lanterns were already being prepared for tomorrow's Heavenly Lantern Festival.
No one realized they were celebrating on the eve of history's greatest storm.
