Eternal Rebirth: I Ascend with Every Death

The Abyssal Throne Room was not a place meant for mortals. The walls pulsed with something eerily alive, veins of blackened flesh twisting across the stone like roots strangling a dying tree. Dim light flickered from chandeliers of screaming souls, their translucent forms writhing as if trapped between the veil of life and death. The scent of dried blood clung to the air, thick and metallic, laced with something darker—something ancient.

Li Tian took a slow, measured breath, his muscles tensed, his mind sharp despite the oppressive aura crushing down on him. Every step forward felt like wading through a tide of invisible chains, as if the throne room itself sought to pull him into its depths.

At the far end of the chamber, seated atop an immense throne carved from the fused bones of countless warriors, sat Yanluo—the Abyssal Sovereign, the god of death, and now, the man claiming to be his father.

"You have done well, child." Yanluo's voice was the rumbling of a storm contained within a single entity. Deep, resonant, and filled with an undeniable weight of authority. "You have finally come home."

Li Tian's fingers curled into fists, his nails biting into his palms. His entire existence, every cycle of pain, every moment of rebirth, had led him to this moment. He had pursued the source of his suffering, only to find that he was never meant to escape it. He was created for it.

"You're lying," he growled. "I am not your son."

Yanluo smiled—a slow, knowing expression that sent a chill crawling down Li Tian's spine. "Deny it if you wish, but the truth does not change. You were born of my blood, a creation meant to inherit my power and finish what I started."

Li Tian's mind reeled. He had known pain. He had known betrayal. But this? To be nothing more than a piece in someone else's design? He refused to accept it.

"Then what was it all for? The deaths, the suffering, the rebirths?" His voice rose, raw with fury. "You forced me through hell, just to make me yours?"

Yanluo leaned forward, resting his clawed fingers against the armrest of his throne. "You misunderstand, Li Tian. It was not cruelty. It was preparation. Every death made you stronger. Every failure refined you. And now, you stand at the precipice of your ascension."

The very word made Li Tian's skin crawl. Ascension. A carefully laid path he had never chosen.

"What if I refuse?" he spat. "What if I break free from your cursed design?"

Yanluo chuckled, low and ominous. "Then tell me, child. Have you ever truly had control? Do you feel it even now? The abyss calls to you, its whispers growing louder, its tendrils sinking deeper."

Li Tian felt it. A slow, creeping corruption that had lurked in his veins since his first rebirth. A darkness clawing at the edges of his soul, urging him to let go.

"You can fight it," Yanluo said. "Or you can embrace it. With my power, you will not only survive—you will rule. The heavens will bow, and those who wronged you will kneel before your might. Is that not what you desire? Power? Revenge?"

Li Tian's breath was ragged. His hands trembled—not with fear, but with the weight of temptation. He had spent lifetimes clawing his way through an unforgiving world. He had suffered. He had lost everything.

And now, the very thing he had chased stood before him, offering him dominion over all.

"Don't listen to him."

The voice was familiar, sharp as a blade.

Li Tian's gaze snapped to the side as a figure emerged from the shadows.

Xiao Chen.

His closest companion. His brother-in-arms.

But the man before him was not the same. Xiao Chen's once-familiar robes were now tainted with abyssal energy, his eyes darker than the void itself. Shadows coiled around his form, a sickening mockery of the warrior Li Tian had once trusted.

"Xiao Chen…?"

A smirk twisted his old friend's lips. "Surprised? Did you really think you were the only one who suffered? The only one who died again and again?"

Li Tian's blood turned cold.

"You—"

"We were both meant for this," Xiao Chen said, stepping closer, his voice laced with something cruel. "But you were always the sacrifice, brother. I just got tired of playing the weak one."

Li Tian barely registered the words before Xiao Chen attacked.

A flash of black steel. A surge of abyssal energy.

Li Tian barely had time to react before a wave of pure corruption slammed into him, sending him crashing into the throne room's floor. The stone cracked beneath the force, his vision momentarily blurring as pain exploded through his chest.

He coughed, blood staining his lips. The corruption in his veins surged, responding to the overwhelming power before him. It wanted to take over.

"Do you see now?" Yanluo's voice echoed through the chamber, calm, almost pleased. "You were never meant to be the hero of this story. You were the key. The door. And now… it is time to open it."

Li Tian's body trembled, the darkness within him roaring to life. His Abyss Corruption surged past 95%, his mind fraying at the edges.

Voices whispered.

Give in.

Let go.

Become what you were meant to be.

He clenched his fists, his entire body wracked with pain.

No.

He had not fought, bled, and suffered just to become a puppet. He had endured it all because he wanted freedom.

Li Tian forced himself to stand, even as the abyss threatened to consume him. His eyes burned with defiance.

"You think I was made for you?" His voice was ragged, defiant. "Then let me show you that even fate can be broken."

His power erupted.

A surge of dark energy, not of submission, but of rebellion.

Yanluo watched, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Interesting," he murmured. "Let us see how long you last."