Beyond the Ten Thousand Worlds, above the Boundless Skies, within the deepest layers of the Void where even thought cannot reach, the supreme beings awakened.

  Ancient Emperors, Heavenly Venerables, Timeless Immortals—one after another, they opened their Dao Eyes.

  In the midst of the Long River of Time, they witnessed a blasphemy against the natural order a mortal infant, severing the chains of cause and effect, standing untouched amidst the torrent of destiny.

  They dared to peer closer—only to be met with a terrifying void.

  No karmic line. No future echoes. No heavenly fate. Nothing.

  A being outside the Weave of All Existence had been born.

  In their secret sanctuaries, the supreme beings murmured:

  "This one... has no destiny. No past. No future. He is an anomaly that the heavens themselves dare not weave into their tapestry."

  Even those who had comprehended half a step beyond Nirvana, those who ruled over Celestial Courts and Ancient Domains, felt fear bloom in their eternal hearts.

  They understood—to force a divination upon such an existence would invite a calamity not of life and death—but of total extinction. Even their Names would be erased from the Jade Slips of Heaven.

  However, below the Celestial Veil, within mortal worlds and lesser heavens, the ignorant cultivators—mid-tier sages and low saints, fueled by greed and boundless arrogance—stirred.

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  Rumors of an auspicious sign, a heaven-defying treasure, a ‘Child of Fortune,’ spread like wildfire.

  Blind to their own insignificance, they erected towering altars, burned thousand-year-old spirit incense, and cast forbidden divination spells stolen from fallen empires.

  They sought to seize the destiny of the new born.

  Thus, beneath the silent gaze of the supreme beings—the foolish reached toward the heavens.

  And in response—the Great River of Fate moved.

  The silver waters that recorded all things—the birth of stars, the fall of dynasties, the rise and decay of myriad Daos—began to ripple with wrath.

  Then—

  It wept blood.

  Crimson tides surged across the void, and in a single breath, millions of diviners—regardless of cultivation, sect, or background—were swallowed.

  They did not scream. They did not resist. Their existence was quietly unmade.

  Their pasts were severed. Their futures were annihilated. Even their dust could not remain.

  From the highest immortal halls to the humblest mortal villages, an invisible terror spread.

  Sects collapsed overnight. Heaven-ranked artifacts withered to nothingness. Ancient spirit beasts wailed at the empty sky.

  And those who survived understood:

  "This is not a fated child...This is a calamity that even the Heavenly Dao cannot predict."

  Yet within a small, ordinary cradle, nestled amidst mortal dust, Child lay quietly sleeping.

  Innocent Oblivious. A faint smile upon his lips.

  He who had shattered destiny, who had forced even the Boundless Dao of Infinite Samsara to weep blood, remained untouched by the waves of terror he had birthed.

  In the depths of the Void, an ancient whisper resounded across broken stars:

  "That which is born beyond destiny... shall invite tribulations beyond destiny."