DEMON SOVEREIGN'S REIGN

The wind howled as the group stood at the edge of the Shattered Steppes, a vast expanse of broken earth and suspended rock plateaus stretching as far as the eye could see. Each stone slab floated in defiance of gravity, orbiting invisible cores of forgotten spiritual pressure. It was a graveyard of time, where reality itself had begun to unravel.

Liu Shen gazed across the fractured terrain, eyes narrowing at the currents of time that spiraled between the floating monoliths. Every breath taken here felt… thinner, more brittle, as if even the air feared to remain too long.

"This place wasn't always like this," he murmured.

Zhao Ying, her hood drawn low over her face, nodded. "According to the Hollow's ancient records, the Steppes were once the domain of the Cradle of Dusk. A bastion where space and time met in harmony."

Yu Meixing stepped forward, her senses extended. "But something tore it apart. A clash beyond mortal scale."

Lei Qing knelt, touching a shard of obsidian ground. "This soil is infused with spatial fractures. Normal cultivators would be shredded alive stepping too far in."

Liu Shen raised a hand and channeled his demonic essence into a thread of dark-red qi. It laced around them, forming a protective veil. "Stay close. We'll have to leap between fragments until we find the Sanctum."

"And if the Sanctum is gone?" Meixing asked.

"Then we'll tear the truth from the bones of this place," he said simply.

They began their trek, leaping from one slab of land to another. Each fragment had its own rhythm—some floating steadily, others vanishing for brief moments before reappearing, displaced in space. The ground shimmered with distorted echoes, scenes of battles that no longer existed flashing in and out of sight.

At one point, they passed a twisted statue of a robed figure with no face—its hands held together in silent prayer. A plaque below read in an ancient script:

"In dusk, we bind. In dusk, we fall. Let the gate remain sealed."

Zhao Ying translated it aloud. "This was a vow. The sect wasn't just guarding the Abyss… they were imprisoning something."

They ventured deeper, eventually reaching a central plateau, anchored by a broken ziggurat half-submerged in the void. Dark vines grew along its steps, and an overwhelming sense of loss emanated from within. Liu Shen stepped forward and paused.

"I remember this place."

Meixing looked to him. "From your past life?"

"No. From before that. This memory belongs to the Abyss itself."

The group exchanged tense glances but followed him into the ziggurat. Inside, murals depicted the rise of the Cradle of Dusk—a sect cloaked in twilight, forging weapons and seals to defend against the sky. A particularly large mural showed a woman with three eyes, holding a curved blade against a storm of stars.

"She was the Sect Master," Liu Shen said quietly. "And she died protecting the gate."

Zhao Ying ran her fingers along a fractured altar beneath the mural. "There's an inscription."

Liu Shen stepped closer. The writing shimmered, not with ink, but memory. As he read, words poured into his mind, not in sound, but sensation:

"To the Last Gatekeeper—

Should the stars awaken and the pact dissolve,

Seek the heart of the Sanctum.

There, dusk shall rise once more."

A sudden tremor shook the ziggurat. Cracks opened in the walls, and a shrill cry echoed through the void.

"They found us," Lei Qing muttered.

Outside, a dozen celestial envoys descended, their bodies wreathed in golden flames and adorned in radiant armor. Their leader bore a blindfold across his eyes and held a golden staff etched with Heaven's Laws.

"Liu Shen," the envoy called out. "By decree of the Celestial Mandate, you are forbidden to tread upon the ruins of dusk. Surrender now."

Liu Shen stepped from the temple ruins, cloak billowing as his demonic aura flared to life. "So the cowards above still tremble at shadows."

The blindfolded envoy raised his staff. "This is not fear. This is order. The last time the Cradle rose, the realms bled."

"And who caused that bleeding?" Liu Shen spat. "You fear the truth locked away in this place. That's why you destroyed it!"

Behind him, the others took their positions. Meixing drew the Ninth Needle, her shadow weaving around her like smoke. Lei Qing's lightning hummed between his fingers, and Zhao Ying unsheathed her curved saber, eyes burning with resolve.

The envoy raised his staff. "Then perish, Gatekeeper."

Liu Shen grinned. "No. This time, we open the gate together."

The battle erupted with blinding fury. Celestial light clashed against abyssal qi. Ancient seals reawakened, resonating with Liu Shen's power. As the ziggurat cracked further, a hidden door beneath the altar trembled.

Unseen by the others, it pulsed—once, twice.

The Sanctum's heart was calling.

And it was ready to rise.