"He wishes to see you."
Shen Tian remained expressionless, but inwardly, he felt something else stir—an instinctive alertness, like a beast sensing danger.
Elder Bai walked toward a sealed wooden door covered in ancient runes. He pressed his palm against it, and the symbols lit up, each one pulsing with spiritual light.
"You will meet him soon. But before that, there is something you must know."
The door opened, revealing a chamber filled with murals. Each wall depicted strange eyes—eyes with one tomoe, two tomoe, and a dark set with three.
Shen Tian's heartbeat quickened.
"These murals," Elder Bai said quietly, "record a forbidden chapter of the sect's past. A disciple once awakened eyes like yours."
Shen Tian stepped closer. His eyes widened.
On one of the murals, a figure stood wielding crimson eyes identical to his.
But the mural did not end there.
It showed the figure surrounded by corpses. Cultivators lay scattered, mountains collapsed, rivers dried. The next mural showed the same figure falling to his knees, hands clutching his head, eyes bleeding.
The final mural showed only a tomb.
Shen Tian's body froze.
Elder Bai watched him carefully.
"These eyes… they do not belong to our world. Those who awaken them inevitably stand alone."
He paused.
"And those who stand alone either become legends… or calamities."
Shen Tian swallowed hard.
"So the disciple from before… died?"
Elder Bai's voice was low.
"He died when his second tomoe fully awakened."
Shen Tian's pulse hammered. His right eye had already gained its second tomoe last night.
Was he next?
Elder Bai rested a hand behind his back.
"This sect will not decide your fate, Shen Tian. But understand this: power shapes destiny, whether you desire it or not."
He moved toward the door.
"The Sect Master awaits."
Shen Tian remained still for a moment, staring at the mural of the crimson-eyed figure who lost himself to power. His reflection in the polished floor showed his own eyes trembling faintly beneath the surface.
He whispered under his breath.
"I will not fall."
Whether it was a promise or a plea, even he could not tell.
He turned and followed Elder Bai toward the unknown.
Someone was waiting on the other side of that door.
Someone who already knew his existence meant change.
Shen Tian took a silent breath.
Then stepped forward.
Elder Bai led Shen Tian deeper into the Martial Records Hall until they reached another sealed door. Unlike the others, this one was carved from obsidian stone and engraved with glowing lines of gold. The patterns seemed alive, pulsing faintly like veins that carried energy instead of blood.
Elder Bai spoke without turning back.
"Do not speak unless spoken to. You stand before the strongest will in this sect."
He pressed his palm against the door. The glyphs lit up, and the stone slid open, revealing a dim chamber lit by floating lanterns. The air inside was heavy, thick with a presence Shen Tian could feel pressing against his skin.
Someone sat within.
Not on a throne.
Not on a meditation cushion.
But on a simple wooden chair carved from a single piece of spirit oak. His long white hair flowed freely, and though his robes seemed plain, they emanated an authority that felt more ancient than the sect itself.
His eyes remained closed, yet Shen Tian felt as if he were already seen through.
Elder Bai bowed deeply.
"Sect Master, Shen Tian has arrived."
The old man opened his eyes slowly.
Shen Tian froze.
They were not ordinary eyes.
They were clear, deep, and impossibly calm. Not sharp like blades, not fiery like cultivators consumed by ambition. They reflected a vastness, an ocean-like stillness that seemed to contain eras of history.
A voice that felt like distant thunder sounded.
"Approach."
Shen Tian inhaled and stepped forward. Each step felt like wading through water. The air resisted him, testing his resolve.
When he finally stood before the Sect Master, the old man spoke again.
"So you are the one who awakened the crimson eyes."
Shen Tian maintained his composure.
"They awakened on their own."
"A power that awakens without consent is one that does not belong to this world," the Sect Master replied, his tone neither accusing nor approving.
He studied Shen Tian's face for a moment.
"I have seen eyes of greed, eyes of pride, eyes of despair, eyes filled with murderous will." His gaze sharpened ever so slightly. "But yours… do not follow any emotion."
Shen Tian frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
"You do not hunger for power," the Sect Master said. "Yet power gathers around you."
Shen Tian stayed silent. He did not deny it.
The Sect Master lifted a finger, and a small ripple of energy rose in the room. Shen Tian watched, and suddenly, invisible threads—the faintest strands of Qi—became visible around him.
He could see them.
Without activating his Sharingan.
His pupils dilated in shock.
The Sect Master nodded, having confirmed something.
"As expected. Your soul perceives what others cannot. The Sharingan… or whatever name it once bore here… is not merely an eye technique."
Shen Tian steadied his breathing.
"Then what is it?"
The Sect Master leaned back slightly.
"A key."
Shen Tian's pulse raced.
"A key to what?"
The room fell silent for a long moment before the Sect Master answered.
"To doors that should remain closed."
Shen Tian's skin prickled.
"You speak as though this has happened before."
"It has," the Sect Master replied. "The crimson eyes once belonged to a disciple who sought to transcend fate itself. He believed destiny was a chain, and that these eyes could sever it."
He closed his eyes for a moment, as if remembering a distant tragedy.
"But he became consumed. He drowned in visions of the future. Every possible path, every variation of choice, every consequence he foresaw—until he could no longer distinguish reality from illusion. He tried to escape destiny, and in doing so, he lost his own."
Shen Tian felt the air leave his lungs.
The mutated Sharingan in his right eye pulsed faintly, as if acknowledging the danger the Sect Master described.
The old man opened his eyes again, gaze piercing.
"You must never attempt to gaze upon tomorrow. The second tomoe draws you close to that boundary. One more step and you will not return."
Shen Tian swallowed hard.
"I have no intention of losing myself."
Intentions rarely matter when power whispers," the Sect Master said calmly. "And power always whispers."
His words cut deeper than any sword.
Shen Tian steadied his voice.
"Why allow me to stay, then?"
The Sect Master closed his eyes once more.
"Because a blade that is feared is always sharpened in the dark. Better it be at my side where I may watch it… than in the hands of those who do not understand it."
Elder Bai bowed, acknowledging the wisdom in his words.
The Sect Master raised a hand, and a jade talisman materialized in Shen Tian's palm. It hummed faintly, reacting to the presence of his Sharingan.
"This will guide your first step," the Sect Master said. "A cultivation path not bound by Qi, but by perception. Learn to strengthen your body, anchor your mind, and restrain your eyes."
Shen Tian bowed deeply.
"I will not disappoint."
The Sect Master smiled faintly—not warmly, but knowingly.
"You will. Everyone with power does. The question is only how… and when."
Shen Tian felt something tighten in his chest. He did not know if the Sect Master was warning him, testing him, or preparing him.
Perhaps all three.
"You may go," the old man said. "Your path begins now. Do not let the eyes see what they should not."
Shen Tian left the chamber slowly, talisman in hand. Elder Bai followed behind him in silence.
Only after they were outside did Elder Bai speak.
"You have been acknowledged. But acknowledgment is not protection. It is pressure."
Shen Tian nodded.
Pressure was something he understood.
Pressure had shaped his life on Earth.
Pressure had followed him into this world.
As he walked down the steps, the jade talisman warmed in his hand, resonating with the crimson pulse behind his eyelids.
His journey had changed.
He was no longer running from fate.
He was walking toward it.
____________________
The morning mist curled around Azure Cloud Sect like drifting silk, wrapping the mountain paths in silver haze. Shen Tian walked alone along a quiet trail, the jade talisman the Sect Master had given him resting in his palm. It pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his heartbeat.
He stopped at an old training courtyard built on a stone platform overlooking a waterfall. The roar of falling water drowned out distant noise, granting the place an isolated calm.
Shen Tian inspected the talisman more closely. The jade was black—a rarity—and tiny symbols spiraled across its surface. They did not look like typical cultivation runes. Instead, they resembled swirling tomoe, eerily similar to the pattern within his own eyes.
He felt a subtle tug in his mind, and the talisman warmed.
So this is how I begin.
He sat cross-legged and placed the talisman against his forehead. The symbols lit up faintly, not with Qi, but with something else—something that resonated directly with his mind.
The world around him blurred.
For a moment, Shen Tian felt suspended between consciousness and illusion. Thoughts sharpened. The sound of the waterfall grew clearer, every drop distinct. Even the smallest movements of distant leaves became noticeable.
His Sharingan stirred behind his eyelids, as if awakened by an unseen command.
Then, something unexpected happened.
The tomoe in his right eye trembled. The world shifted. He saw faint threads—lines of movement, patterns in the air, possibilities—stretching toward the courtyards below.
He gasped and pulled the talisman away. The vision snapped shut, and dizziness struck him so suddenly he nearly toppled over.
His chest rose and fell rapidly.
That… was not normal. That was not controlled.
The talisman's glow faded, and Shen Tian realized something alarming.
This "cultivation" was not strengthening his body.
It was sharpening his perception.
Energizing his mind.
Feeding his eyes.
Shen Tian clenched his fingers around the talisman.
If I continue like this, my Sharingan might evolve faster than I can handle.
A sudden voice broke the silence.
"So you are cultivating… without Qi?"
Shen Tian turned his head.
Chen Hao stood at the courtyard entrance, arms crossed, an all-too-familiar sneer twisting his lips. His two companions snickered behind him.
"It seems the rumors were true," Chen Hao continued. "You rely on tricks and illusions. The sect lets you stay because you amuse them."
Shen Tian sighed quietly.
First day as a disciple, and trouble already knocks.