Author's Note
Hey there, reader!
Before you dive in, I just wanted to give you a quick heads-up. This prologue is here to add some extra depth to the world, but if you're eager to jump straight into the main story, feel free to skip it! You won't miss anything crucial—at least, not yet.
That said, if you enjoy extra lore, foreshadowing, or just seeing more of the world before everything kicks off, then stick around! Either way, I hope you enjoy the story.
Happy reading!
The Nine mysteries, by Wanderor
***
The System did not judge. It simply functioned. Universes rose and crumbled beneath its invisible hand; their fates rewritten in the silent void of its calculations. But this time, something different emerged. Something… unaccounted for.
A crackling thunder echoed across dimensions. A human figure stood at the precipice of existence, their long rapier sparking with stolen lightning.
The System reached out with cold precision, seeking to calculate this anomaly, to predict its impact. But before it could gleam anything of value, the blade struck, and the vision shattered into nothingness.
Its methods were flawless. Its power, all-consuming. And yet, it failed—unable to divine anything, not from reality's tangled strings, nor from cold, probabilistic prediction.
A mechanical yet magical entity, the System altered the fundamental building blocks of a universe. It created new ways to explore the Grand Dao, offering profound starting points for cultivation and self-improvement. Yet it, too, had its limits.
Many have speculated on the System's existence. Was it a tool of the gods? A remnant of a long-dead civilization? Or something else entirely? These were questions only the most ancient of sages dared to ask—and even they found no answers.
***
In a distant corner of the multiverse lay a triangle-shaped planet, suspended between two supermassive black holes. Their gravitational pull absorbed all else, yet this immovable planet remained untouched.
A dull buzz floated through the inescapable mountains… what it was it did not know.
"Hmmm?" A sound rippled outward—like the swallowing of stars and the collapse of civilizations, compressed into a single, resonant hum. As something changed, some new power was added, something significant to warrant the entity's slightest interest, if just for a moment…
Space trembled and shattered as the skies and seas folded into nothingness. A dark black eye opened, fusing into a third of the galaxy. Its pupil—a hidden black hole—contrasted starkly with the pearly stars surrounding it.
Closing its eye, the being rests, as visions of the Primordial actions, if even by accident and however minute it meant to be, changed the fate of quintillions.
***
The Void, a realm between universes, was untouched and ever-changing, the embodiment of emptiness and detachment. Untouched by time nor bleached by the bleak surrounding, lay a woman, unlike all women before her, stripped of all markers of an ordinary lady she was tethered to her frail mortal life.
Silently meditating within the glass of a dimension such as the void, fueled with nothing but the vibrant pulse of her soul and the heartbeat of her true essence.
The Void, vast yet limited, was a place of endless seeking and emptiness. For the Woman, it was simply a resting point—her meditation undisturbed, her focus fixed solely on herself. She sought nothing but herself, but the whispers of fate could not be ignored. The same hum echoed rigidity throughout the environment unbothered by even the Void. Soon her isolation would be broken, by seven masters of fate that may go beyond even her.
***
Amidst the rapidly changing skies, the clash of vile and holy ingredients made the oceans and heavens heave with every moment.
Many names surround it. Many claim to have glimpsed its true form. But none know how many faces it truly wears.
The creature cared not for an identity, holding a myriad of forms, each like a mask flickering back and forth with different personalities, each distinctly different, but a myriad of faces each aligned with its specific purpose to further its unquenchable desire, its raging ambitions and the glorified purpose that it centres its twisted persona around.
But all that know of this entity, understands that it is at its core, just an alchemist… that will destroy galaxies and raise empires, for the slightest hope to succeed.
Its cauldron burnt holes through the world around the entity as the ingredients souls released shill screams as its the fabric of space trembled with a low hum, destabilizing the concoction. A swipe of its hands silenced it, as no interference of that level could stop a Primordial level skill, especially in the hands of it.
The world froze in fear, as the ocean, the animals, and any sentient entity near, shuddered quietly, a primal fear overcame them, as what others call the shapeshifter, but most call the alchemist spoke to the world in excitement, each mask a reflection of their unrelenting hunger. 'Seven singularities,' they murmured, their voice a chorus of madness and clarity, pausing their chants of insanity only to resume with increased intensity.
The Alchemist felt the Void stir, and smiled—not with joy, but challenge. "You'll lose them too, Sister," it whispered.
The slightest tremble of their hand betrayed the fear they refused to acknowledge—failure was a luxury they could not afford. As the frozen world shattered, like someone had pressed the play button, and civilizations fates changed, as they attempted to gain the shapeshifters slightest favor, as only the strong can live in this world and all the weak must appease the strong.
***
There was a place even the most powerful of gods, the greatest sages and the wisest fools would not dare set foot. Within a small cluster of galaxies at the farthest edge of a universe, lay a zone packed with beasts of tremendous powers, that with the flick of their claws could snuff out the brightest of stars, with a breath in, black holes would become their substances and civilizations worship.
Some beasts would be able to wrap themselves around the world and see the other side like the world serpent Jörmungandr or be as small as a dragon fly but hold such tremendous magic that even the mightiest of dragon's shudder in fear. Some were peaceful beasts that did not fight and only to protect themselves and their kin, others lived for the battle, the excitement and would constantly search for new foes and enemies.
There were a myriad of beasts that lived within this small cluster but none were as strong as the ones at the center, along the biggest planet known with resources and natural treasures by the dozen, this planet was different from others as it held powerful beasts stronger than any before them, such as god beasts and divine beasts.
This planet was as magnificent as it was beautiful, many wars, fights and battles have been fought for ownership of this natural paradise, this place fueled with such strife, is given only one rule, that no matter their desire for more power, Beasts of unimaginable power prowled the jungles and seas, their breaths bending reality itself. Yet even they dared not disturb the island. To where he was…
Within this island sat an otherworldly man, with an axe over his shoulder as he lay tired on a recent tree stump with the tree at his feet. He was neither handsome nor charismatic, in fact if you saw him from afar you would mistake him as an ordinary person.
But this man had a presence not often seen, he was not overpowering nor seemed to draw you in, but he had a feeling of unfretted and untouched…there was nothing special about his appearance—until you looked twice.
He watched as the beings closest to omnipotence and omniscience, felt the changes in their reality. As they analyzed the potential of this birth, each making new plans and ideas or directly ignoring it as fate converges. But none of them really knew anything other than what has been written about before…
"So, it's happened again, there's always one or two in every new universe, but 9 true geniuses that's truly rare…wait 2 are hidden, well that will be a nice surprise" the man silently mused to himself.
"Can't wait to see what will happen… maybe just maybe they might get to my level" as the man stands up and whistles, watching as a small back dog materializes in front of him.
"Beau, make sure none of the other X-tiers interfere this time" as the dog fades away into the background as quickly as it came.
The man reaches for the axe and feels the subtle changes of the handle disappearing and the rough handle change to a smooth fishing rod, as he turns for the pier. A glint of a true smile appeared on the man's face, as a curious little sparkle twinkled in his eyes, curious of the journey ahead, before disappearing and regaining his relaxed untethered attitude.
"Nine geniuses," the man mused aloud, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of certainty. "They possess the gifts, the destiny, and the rare luck of reality itself—qualities that might allow them to truly transcend, to become beings like me."
He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Good luck."
The dying world tree loomed behind him, its withered roots spiraling endlessly toward the heavens, cut short by a single swing of his axe. Leaving the colossal stump behind, the man slung the now-transformed fishing rod over his shoulder and wandered toward the horizon, where fish as large as mountains swam unseen in a cosmic sea.