No heaven, no earth, no beginning and no end.
Chaos is like ink, the years are stagnant, and even time is silent here. Only the embers of the ancient catastrophe are left floating and sinking in the dead silence and vastness, never dissipating or extinguishing.
Suddenly, a voice rang out from the deepest part of nothingness. It did not distinguish between male and female, ancient or modern, and with an everlasting indifference, it asked softly:
"Do you regret it?"
The sound fell, chaos surged, and two figures standing tall on the sky slowly appeared.
Yi Yi was wearing gilt imperial armor, with gold armor and dragon patterns coiled around him, and purple energy flowing around his body. Although he no longer had the edge to dominate the world in the past, his imperial aura was everlasting. However, the dark turbid air entangled between the seams of the armor, eating away at the brilliant dragon energy. Standing there, he looked like a supreme statue guarding all realms.
A man is wearing blood-stained black armor, the blade of the armor is chipped, and is covered with thousands of years of frost. The blood of the martial saint is soaring into the sky. Even though he is trapped in the void, he still has the strength to conquer all enemies. The ancient sacred texts are flowing in his eyes, and the blood is so powerful that the void is shattered and healed, and the cycle is endless.
For a long time, the black armor warrior's sound was like a loud bell, splitting the sky into a poem:
"There is no need to sacrifice one's life for Taoist sect's sacrifices for thousands of years, so why should one lie down and desecrate oneself?"
The man in gilded imperial armor slowly stepped forward and responded with a voice that echoed throughout the ages:
"If we succeed, there will be a thin line left in the world; if we fail, we will all be ashes without each other."
The lingering sound dissipated, the two figures gradually melted away, the nothingness returned to silence, and there was no more waves.
