A rift tore through reality.

  From the depths of the Abyss, Ryojin Kurohane emerged. To him he had only spent hours in the Abyss but to the outside world years had passed, and this realization kicked in.

  Ryojin dismissed the epiphany with a detached wave of his hand. The truth, once a burning fire that fueled his soul, had lost its significance. His heart, once a maelstrom of emotions, had withered into a desolate landscape of indifference. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing, that is, except for one, all-consuming obsession: the downfall of the Celestial Order.

  The world he once knew greeted him with an eerie stillness. He stood on the edge of a ruined battlefield, the remnants of a war long since ended. The sky above was dark with storm clouds, but no rain fell. The wind was silent.

  And yet, something was different.

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  He flexed his fingers, feeling the abyssal energy coursing through him. The black runes carved into his flesh pulsed faintly, remnants of the pact he had made. His katana, now reforged by the void itself, shimmered with an unsettling aura.

  He had not simply escaped the Abyss.

  He had become it.

  But the moment his boots touched solid ground, a presence stirred in the distance.

  They knew.

  The gods, the Celestial Order—they had cast him into the Abyss, expecting him to vanish into nothingness. But now that he had returned, they would come for him.

  And yet, he felt no fear.

  His body was different, his mind sharper. He was no longer bound by the constraints of mortals or the limitations of his past self. The hunger of the Abyss lingered in his soul, but he had mastered it.

  The whispers still called to him, but this time, they did not command.

  They awaited his command.

  Ryojin exhaled, watching the air distort around him. His very presence warped reality, the ground beneath his feet darkening, cracking.

  Then, he sensed them.

  A ripple in space.

  A golden light flickered in the distance. Divine energy.

  They had arrived.

  With a calm expression, Ryojin turned toward the approaching figures, his fingers lightly brushing the hilt of his blade.

  The first battle of his new existence was about to begin.

  And for the first time in a long, long time—

  He was looking forward to it.