DEMON SOVEREIGN'S REIGN

The moment they stepped into the starlight tunnel, the world changed.

No longer bound by earth or sky, Liu Shen and his companions floated in a realm where time folded in spirals and space hummed with ancient laws. Each breath they took resonated with primordial qi, thick and oppressive. The corridor pulsed around them like a living being, guiding their steps toward something vast—something older than the heavens themselves.

"This isn't a spatial array," Lei Qing muttered, eyes narrowing. "It's a sentient passage."

"More than that," Meixing said softly, her eyes locked on the swirling sigils around them. "This is a remnant of the Abyss itself. One of the original veins."

Liu Shen's gaze was calm, though inwardly he felt the deep pull of memory. The last time he had touched the Abyss, his soul had been torn apart by celestial blades, scattered through eras and identities. Now, the mark of dusk burned on the back of his hand—reacting to the corridor, guiding them deeper.

Behind them, the Sanctum's heart pulsed once more, sealing the gate. There would be no return.

"This path won't hold long," Zhao Ying warned, glancing over her shoulder. "The heavens are reacting."

As if to confirm her words, the entire corridor quaked. A crack opened in the starlight, and golden chains erupted from the void, writhing like celestial serpents. They reached toward Liu Shen with fury, aiming for the mark of dusk.

He didn't hesitate.

With a sweep of his arm, he called forth demonic qi laced with spatial tear essence—energy granted by the Sanctum itself. A slash of dark crimson severed the first chain, which screamed as if alive before recoiling.

"Keep moving," he said coldly. "They're trying to drag me back into the seal."

"They'll fail," Meixing said firmly, stepping to his side. Shadow silk flowed from her sleeves, weaving into a protective veil as they descended further.

Then, suddenly, the tunnel ended.

Before them stood a colossal gate—half-buried in the darkened mist of the Abyss. Unlike the golden gates of the heavens or the stone portals of mortal sects, this gate was forged from obsidian crystal veined with molten silver. A thousand runes pulsed along its surface—some familiar, many forbidden, all ancient.

And at the center of the gate... an eye.

Not a carving or illusion. A real eye.

It blinked.

Liu Shen froze.

In his past life, this gate had been sealed. Guarded by the ancient protectors of dusk. But now, the eye recognized him—and the mark he bore.

The gate began to respond.

"Heir of Dusk… Sovereign of Ruin… You have returned."

The voice echoed in their minds—not just words, but truths that shaped reality.

Zhao Ying gritted her teeth. "This thing isn't just a gate. It's a consciousness."

"Part of the Abyss itself," Liu Shen said. "Bound by law. But willing to open—for one price."

The others turned to him.

"What price?" Lei Qing asked.

Liu Shen stared at the eye.

"My vow."

He stepped forward, raising his right hand. The mark of dusk flared bright, casting eerie light over the darkness.

"I am Liu Shen, bearer of the past, claimant of the forgotten throne. I vow this time, I do not enter the Abyss to flee the heavens… but to end them."

The gate trembled. The eye stared deep into him—and wept a single tear of shadow.

The runes shifted.

Chains fell away.

The Abyss Gate opened.

A blast of raw void qi surged forth, forcing everyone to brace themselves. Behind them, the fabric of space twisted violently. The heavens were retaliating—tearing through the upper realms to reach this place.

"We need to go!" Meixing shouted.

But Liu Shen didn't move immediately. He turned to the others.

"Once we cross, we'll be hunted as heretics in every realm. This path is irreversible."

Lei Qing cracked his knuckles. "Wasn't planning to turn back anyway."

Zhao Ying smirked. "I betrayed the heavens once. Doing it twice feels natural."

Meixing placed a hand on his arm. "You don't have to ask. We follow you."

The words, simple yet resolute, struck something deep within Liu Shen. Not as the Demon Sovereign, not as the wielder of forbidden arts—but as the man who had once failed to protect those who followed him.

This time, he would not.

He stepped through the gate.

And the world died.

Darkness swallowed them, deeper than void, older than time. There was no light. No ground. Only pressure—crushing, infinite.

Then, a heartbeat.

A spark.

A land unfolded before them, not like any mortal or divine realm. Mountains floated sideways. Rivers flowed upward. Stars blinked beneath the ground. And everywhere, in every atom, the Abyss whispered:

"Welcome home."

They stood atop a cliff of shattered moons, overlooking a continent carved from night. Towers of glass and bone jutted from the land. In the far distance, a black sun pulsed.

And from within that pulsing light… something stirred.

Liu Shen narrowed his eyes.

"This is the Abyssal Plane," he said. "The true source of power sealed by the heavens. And our battleground."

From the sky above, an object streaked toward them—neither meteor nor star, but something ancient.

A throne.

It landed before Liu Shen with a blast of wind and time.

He stared at it.

Then, slowly, sat.

The Abyss accepted him.

And so began the war for heaven's end.