The courtyard was cracked, sun-bleached, and silent.
Zeravon stood alone near the edge of the platform where the sect's Outer Trial was held. Around him, dozens of outer disciples murmured and pointed, their words wrapped in mockery.
> "That's him. The memoryless beggar."
> "He doesn't even have a Qi thread. He'll faint before he touches the stone."
> "I bet Elder Lin just felt sorry for him."
Their laughter stung the air, but Zeravon remained still — his eyes calm, his expression unreadable.
He didn't care about the words.
In truth, he didn't even fully grasp them.
His mind remained cloudy, his thoughts distant — like a man standing inside a world he wasn't truly part of.
But his chest… it burned gently.
That same subtle warmth, pulsing behind his ribs like a heartbeat — like something ancient locked beneath fragile skin, trying to remember itself.
---
Elder Lin stepped forward, holding a long wooden staff. His old eyes glanced briefly at Zeravon — unreadable — before turning to the gathered crowd.
"The Outer Sect Trial will now begin," he announced.
Behind him, a **large glowing stone** hovered atop an altar — carved with runes, cracked from decades of use. This was the **Spirit Resonance Stone**, a tool that detected one's potential and affinity toward the cultivation paths. It judged not power, but **promise**.
Each disciple would place their hand on it. The brighter the light, the stronger their potential. Multiple colors indicated Dao alignment. A black reaction meant spiritual rejection — and was an instant fail.
Zeravon watched quietly as the first few disciples stepped forward.
One after another, they touched the stone.
Some lit it dimly. A few sparked modestly bright. One boy caused it to flash yellow — triggering a small round of impressed gasps.
> "Qi of Earth. Not bad."
> "Senior Brother Ren might get promoted this year."
When Zeravon's name was called, the laughter returned.
> "Now it's the dead guy's turn."
> "Hope the stone doesn't crack from pity."
---
He stepped forward.
Each footfall echoed more than it should have.
He placed his palm on the surface of the Spirit Resonance Stone.
At first — nothing.
No light. No hum. No ripple.
Just silence.
A smirk spread across several spectators' faces.
But then—
**The stone began to tremble.**
It wasn't glowing.
It wasn't reacting normally.
It was **resisting**.
The runes carved across its body **flickered violently**, pulsing between dull gray and frantic red. A sudden high-pitched screech filled the courtyard, forcing disciples to cover their ears.
Elder Lin's eyes widened. "What—?"
And then—
**CRACK!**
The stone **shattered.**
Not fractured. Not dented.
It **exploded outward**, shards scattering in every direction like glass hitting a divine pulse.
Dust swept through the air.
The crowd fell into stunned silence.
> "What… what just happened?"
> "He broke the Spirit Stone?! How? It was bound by a stabilizing formation!"
> "That's impossible!"
Disciples stumbled backward, some shielding their faces, others gaping at Zeravon like they'd seen a ghost.
But Zeravon?
He slowly withdrew his hand, looking at his palm — confused.
The warmth in his chest had surged during the contact, then vanished again.
> *Was it me…? Did I do that?*
He looked up. Elder Lin was still staring at him — not with scorn or confusion, but something far deeper.
**Fear.**
---
Later that night, Elder Lin sat alone in his chamber, fingers trembling slightly as he read through an ancient text.
> *"Spirit Stones do not explode unless two forces meet within them: limitless void... and sealed divinity."*
> *"Such a clash cannot exist in the Lower Realm."*
He closed the book slowly.
> "Unless…"
He looked out the window, toward the outer disciples' quarters — where Zeravon sat silently under the moon, staring into the sky.
---
Far beyond the stars, **a new presence stirred**.
Not Heavenly Dao.
Not the Eternal Lord.
Not even Destruction.
No — this was **The Silent Origin**.
A being so ancient that even the gods had forgotten its true name.
It awoke for the first time in eons, not in anger… but in curiosity.
> *"That seal… was mine."*
> *"Who dares awaken it... so soon?"*
---
Meanwhile, back in the sect, Zeravon lay on his back staring at the ceiling of his bare stone room.
He wasn't tired. He wasn't even sure what sleep was supposed to feel like.
He only felt **the hum**.
The strange, warm hum — that came not from his body, but from something beneath the surface of reality itself.
> *"Why do I feel like… I've been here before?"*
> *"And yet… I remember nothing."*
No answers came.
Only stars blinked back at him through the cracks in the roof — and a sky that no longer felt distant, but strangely close.
---