Chapter 2: Echoes of the Past

The darkness of the Lower Abyss stretched endlessly, broken only by the eerie green glow of the fungi scattered along the cavern walls. Ral Zareth moved through the shadows, his steps deliberate, his mind calculating. The coldness inside him was not just from the unfamiliar world but from his own purpose, which was becoming clearer by the moment.

He was different now—no longer an ordinary man but something far more dangerous. The Void Conquest System had revealed itself to him, granting him power with every kill and conquest. The crystalline figure's death had been the first of many, and already the system hummed quietly in the back of his mind, waiting for him to unlock its full potential.

But first, he needed more information. The Lower Abyss was only one realm among many. He knew there was a multiverse beyond this place—broken, chaotic, and filled with power-hungry beings. To survive, he needed to learn the rules of this fractured reality, to master the flow of mana, and to build an army that would obey him without question.

As he moved deeper into the caverns, the faint sound of voices reached his ears. Unlike before, this time the voices were numerous—dozens, maybe more. Ral slowed his pace, stepping lightly to avoid detection. His cold eyes scanned the dim light ahead until he saw it—an opening leading to a large underground settlement.

The settlement was primitive, a collection of stone huts and tents built within the walls of a massive cavern. The people here were a mixture of different races—humanoids with wings, scaled beasts, and horned warriors—but they all bore the same look of desperation and weariness. Ral watched them from the shadows, his mind coldly assessing the situation.

These people were weak. It was obvious from the way they moved, their postures slumped and their eyes haunted. Refugees, most likely. Survivors from one of the endless battles between realms. They would be of little use to him, except perhaps for information.

Ral stepped out from the shadows and into the settlement, his presence immediately noticed by the inhabitants. They turned to look at him, their expressions a mix of suspicion and fear. A few of the warriors reached for their weapons, but none dared to approach.

One figure finally stepped forward—a tall, gaunt man with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. He wore tattered robes and carried a staff made of blackened wood, his long gray hair tied back. The man's eyes flickered with the faintest hint of mana, though it was weak, barely enough to be noticeable.

"Who are you?" the man asked, his voice gravelly and hoarse. "This is a sanctuary for those who've fled the wars. If you seek shelter, you are welcome here… but we have little to offer."

Ral's eyes narrowed as he studied the man. He could sense the remnants of power within him—mana that had once been strong, perhaps, but now was barely a whisper. A fallen mage, most likely.

"I don't seek shelter," Ral said, his voice as cold as the abyss itself. "I seek knowledge."

The gaunt man's brows furrowed. "Knowledge? What kind of knowledge?"

"Everything about this world, and the multiverse beyond," Ral replied. "The mana system, the rifts, the power struggles between realms. You will tell me what I need to know."

The man's eyes flickered with uncertainty, and he glanced back at the others in the settlement, who were watching the exchange with growing tension.

"You speak as if you're not from this place," the man said slowly, his gaze narrowing. "What are you?"

Ral's patience thinned. "That's irrelevant. You'll answer my questions, or you'll regret it."

The gaunt man's grip on his staff tightened. "We don't have the luxury of trust here, stranger. If you've come to cause harm—"

Before the man could finish, Ral raised his hand, and the shadows around him stirred. Black tendrils of darkness shot from the ground, wrapping around the man's staff and wrenching it from his grip. The crowd gasped, but Ral's expression remained icy.

"I don't have time for your hesitation," Ral said. "You will answer me now, or you will die where you stand."

The man stared at the tendrils in shock, his eyes wide with fear. He glanced at the others in the settlement, but none dared to move. Slowly, he nodded.

"Fine… fine. I'll tell you what I know."

Ral released the tendrils, and the man staggered back, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He gestured toward a small firepit near the center of the settlement. "Sit. I'll explain everything I can."

Ral remained standing, his gaze unyielding. The gaunt man nodded nervously and began to speak.

"This realm, the Lower Abyss, is one of many within the Shattered Dominion. Long ago, before the multiverse fractured, there was only one universe—one reality. But that changed after the Great Fracture. The gods and ancient beings warred for supremacy, and in the chaos, reality itself shattered. Now, we live in a multiverse of broken realms, each with its own rules, its own power structures."

Ral listened intently, his mind absorbing the information. The Great Fracture—so that was the event that had torn reality apart. It explained the chaotic state of the realms and the presence of the rifts.

"And mana?" Ral asked. "How does it function here?"

The man glanced at his staff, then back at Ral. "Mana is the essence of all power. It flows through every realm, but the way it's used varies. Some races, like the mages of the Upper Reaches, manipulate raw mana to cast spells. Others, like the Ember Tyrants, channel it through artifacts to unleash destructive power. But mana is finite, and the more a realm is torn apart by war, the more unstable its flow becomes."

Ral's eyes gleamed with interest. "So mana can be controlled. Manipulated."

"Yes," the man said, nodding. "But it's not easy. Those who control mana control the fate of their realm. That's why the wars never end. Every empire, every race, fights for control of mana-rich territories. It's the only way to survive."

Ral's mind turned, calculating. If mana was the key to power, then his path was clear. He needed to learn how to control it—how to bend it to his will. The Void Conquest System gave him raw strength, but mastery over mana would give him true dominance.

"And these rifts," Ral continued. "What causes them?"

The man hesitated, then spoke. "The rifts are… scars left from the Great Fracture. They're unstable tears in reality, connecting different realms. Sometimes, powerful beings or objects pass through them, but they're unpredictable. Some believe the rifts are growing more frequent, that the multiverse is destabilizing again."

Ral's cold gaze remained fixed on the man. "So, the multiverse is falling apart once more."

The man nodded grimly. "Yes. And when it does, everything will be consumed. The wars will intensify, the rifts will grow, and those who can't control the mana will be destroyed."

Ral's lips curved into a faint, icy smile. "Then I'll control it all."

The gaunt man stared at him, confusion and fear flickering in his eyes. "What are you planning?"

Ral didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned and began to walk away, his mind already racing with thoughts of conquest. He needed more power. More information. But most of all, he needed an army—loyal soldiers who would fight without question.

The refugees in this settlement were weak, but they could be useful. With the right manipulation, they could be forged into the beginnings of something greater. And if they proved too fragile, they would serve as fuel for his rise to power.

He paused at the edge of the settlement and glanced back at the gaunt man. "I'll be taking control of this place now. You'll serve me or die."

The man's face drained of color. "You… you can't be serious—"

Ral raised his hand, and the shadows around him stirred once more, swirling with lethal intent. "I am."

The settlement fell silent, the air thick with tension. The people watched in fear as the gaunt man lowered his head, defeated.

"Very well," the man said quietly. "We'll serve you."

Ral turned his back to the settlement and walked into the deeper shadows of the Abyss. His army would grow. His power would expand. And soon, the fractured multiverse would tremble before him.

He had no past, no memories to weigh him down. Only the future, where all would bow to the Void Conqueror.

This was only the beginning.

The world was vast, the multiverse broken. But in the growing darkness, a new force stirred—a cold-hearted conqueror who would rise from the abyss to claim it all.