Be Warned: this will spoil who the Mc is….
To my future self—
A man clad in dark armor walked through the endless expanse of the Abyss, his greatsword resting across his shoulder. Shadows clung to his steps like loyal wraiths, drawn to his presence.
And to my past self—
Know this: strength is absolute.
I learned that from the very first step I took into this place.
I nearly died countless times. But each time I survived, I came back stronger. Wounds became lessons. Pain became fuel. And still, the Abyss sent more monsters, as if it wanted me dead… or wanted me to evolve.
His voice echoed coldly through the darkness, emotionless and hollow, the curious boy who had long since buried his heart.
He paused, staring into the endless void.
"To my past self…
That curious boy who once dreamed of exploring the stars, of reaching the edge of the universe—I haven't forgotten you."
His eyes closed slowly, memories flashing like fading sparks. He saw his father's proud smile, heard his mother's gentle voice singing him to sleep as she tucked him into bed.
"My son… you're a wonderful child—so brave, so kind. Even if you cause a little trouble now and then," she had said with a laugh.
He saw his father's booming laugh, the warmth of their home—now just ashes in his memory.
A shadow passed over his face.
"I swear, Fenn… I will seek the world that took them from us. I'll cleave it in half if I must."
His voice grew low, almost trembling, yet held by resolve.
"And to my future self…
These memories, no matter how dark, are part of us. They shaped us. But somewhere, deep down, I still wish I could be that happy child again."
He opened his eyes, glowing faintly in the Abyss's gloom.
"But that time is gone. So if you've found happiness, even a piece of it, hold on to it. Use the power we've earned. Never let what happened to us… happen again."
From this day forward, I am no longer Fenn.
That name belongs to the boy I once was.
Now, I am Astaroth—the conqueror of this cursed place.
And there is only one thing left to do before I leave the Abyss.
He raised his greatsword, its edge glowing with seething crimson light, pulsing with the dark essence of the Abyss.
Before him loomed a grotesque creature, an undead dragon, wingless and monstrous. Its massive body was forged from shadow and bone, and fused into its arms were two enormous blades, each one thrumming with raw Abyssal power.
This abomination was the final trial. The gatekeeper.
If he was to walk beyond the Abyss and return to the world above, this creature would have to die by his hand.
Astaroth's sword ignited with Abyssal flame, deep red and violently alive. His eyes glowed like molten blood beneath his helm, and his armor radiated a wicked aura, a crown forged in torment.
The dragon rose with a roar that shook the realm.
And then the world burned around them.
Steel met corrupted steel. Sword clashed with sword. Each strike tore through the dark like a thunderclap. Astaroth moved with ruthless precision, dodging a blow that fell like a mountain, then leapt his blade carving deep into the dragon's skull.
But the Abyss was not done. Waves of horrors poured in behind the beast, drawn to the battle's fury. Clawed things, twisted beyond recognition, all rushing to drag him back into the void.
Yet he fought them all.
And in the end, when the echoes fell silent, only one figure stood.
Astaroth.
He looked down where dragon's once stood, letting out a cold scoff. He was something else now. Something more. The boy was gone. The man was no longer human.
And as he walked forward, deeper toward the exit, more creatures rose to face him—but none could stop him.
At last, he stepped out of the Abyss.
And into a new world.
Teyvat.
But his trials were far from over for in the skies above, an ancient force stirred.
And there it stood like a god among dragons—one of the Seven Sovereign Dragons, waiting in silent judgment.
This battle was not just a trial.
It was an omen.
He was being watched.
His strength, born from solitude and survival, had drawn the gaze of something far greater.
To the Heavenly Principles, he was no longer just a man, he was a vessel forged in darkness, shaped by loss, honed by war from the Abyss.
And so, they chose him.
He became the Shade of Chaos
The Sword of the Heavenly Principles.