In the vast, endless skies, where time itself bends and shatters under the weight of eternity, there stood a figure—an Immortal, untouched by time, unbothered by the fleeting conflicts of mortal beings.

The Immortal's name was Wei Zhen. A being that had transcended the concept of good and evil, an existence so far beyond mortal understanding that even the brightest of gods and the deepest of demons trembled at its mention. For Wei Zhen, there was only the Dao—nothing more, nothing less.

No longer concerned with the trivial struggles of the world, Wei Zhen had long ago abandoned the thoughts of morality. What was good, what was evil? Such questions were for those still shackled by the bounds of time. Immortals, in their pursuit of the Dao, were beyond these primitive concepts. They were the ones who watched, unaffected, as the fleeting lives of others played out like the movements of ants. In the grand scheme of things, all beings were dogs—worth nothing more than the fleeting life they clung to.

In the halls of the Heavenly Sect, there were whispers of Wei Zhen's return. It had been a millennium since anyone had seen the Immortal. But now, he stood before the sacred altar, staring at the flickering flame of existence. The altar was ancient, its stone carved with countless names of those who had once dared disturb the Immortal’s Dao.

"Do you feel the urge to stop me?" Wei Zhen’s voice echoed in the cold, empty chamber.

A figure stepped from the shadows—an old man draped in robes of silver, the High Elder of the Heavenly Sect.

"Wei Zhen, you have returned," the Elder’s voice was soft, but laced with a deep, unwavering authority. "You know the rules of the Sect. You cannot simply walk in and—"

"You speak of rules," Wei Zhen interrupted, his voice indifferent, as if it held no weight. "These rules are the chains of mortals. You live in a world defined by them, but I no longer care."

The Elder stiffened, sensing the vast gulf between them. His eyes glimmered with a hint of fear. "But there must be a line between right and wrong. Even for an Immortal."

Wei Zhen's expression remained cold, his eyes narrowing with the same bitter resolve that had shaped his eternal existence.

"Right and wrong are fleeting notions," Wei Zhen replied. "In the endless cycle of time, they are mere illusions, born of the ignorant minds of mortals. I do not care for them. I care only for my Dao. And if anyone, be they friend or foe, dares disturb my path, they will know nothing but destruction."

The Immortal’s hand lifted, fingers tracing the air with a motion so subtle, it seemed like the wind itself had bent to his will. The Elder’s face went pale as the ground beneath them began to shake, as if the very essence of the world was being torn asunder.

"I have learned from time’s lessons," Wei Zhen continued, his tone never changing. "Mortals die. Gods fall. But the Dao endures."

The Elder’s eyes widened in realization, fear giving way to despair. He dropped to his knees, hands trembling as they reached for the stone altar.

"You... You cannot..." His voice faltered, but his words were drowned out by the overwhelming presence that radiated from Wei Zhen.

"Whoever disturbs my Dao," Wei Zhen's voice thundered like the crack of lightning, "will meet their karma. You, a mere mortal, will not escape its reach. You are nothing."

With that, the Elder's form crumbled, reduced to dust in the blink of an eye. The once-strong figure was nothing more than ashes, scattered by the wind, his soul forever severed from the world.

Wei Zhen stood in silence, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The storm that had stirred within the Sect’s walls had settled, leaving only a sense of unshakable stillness in its wake. He did not feel satisfaction nor sorrow. It was of no consequence.

This was the Dao he had chosen—a path of ruthless inevitability, where even the strongest could be crushed without mercy. There was no place for weakness or compassion in his world. The world of mortals was but a fleeting moment, and to an Immortal, their struggles meant nothing.

Wei Zhen turned his back to the Sect, stepping into the unknown. His quest would never end. He would continue his pursuit of the Dao, for it was the only truth that remained in the face of eternity.

And to anyone who dared stand in his way—good or evil—they would be reduced to nothing more than ashes.

The Heavenly Sect’s mountain peaks loomed above, jagged and imposing against the sky. Wei Zhen’s feet barely touched the ground as he ascended the craggy cliffs, his robes fluttering behind him like the wings of a ghost. The sect’s ancient gates stood before him, still adorned with the fading inscriptions of gods long forgotten. It was said that this place had once been the center of all cultivators, a place where the most powerful beings came to seek wisdom and enlightenment.

But for Wei Zhen, this was no sacred ground. This was simply another obstacle on the path to the Dao.

He had not forgotten the betrayal that had occurred here centuries ago. The Sect, once a bastion of power, had been corrupted by greed and pride. He had witnessed firsthand how the leaders of the Sect had squandered their power, obsessed with attaining immortality and control over all that they could see. They had forgotten the most essential truth of existence—that immortality was not a gift to be hoarded, but a curse to be borne with humility and purpose.

As he approached the grand hall at the center of the Sect, Wei Zhen could feel the presence of the High Elder and the inner circle of the Sect. They had sensed his return, and they were prepared to meet him. The arrogance of mortals never ceased to amuse him. They would think they could stop him.

The doors of the hall creaked open with a deep groan, and Wei Zhen stepped into the vast chamber. The room was adorned with golden statues, each one depicting a different god or immortal from the ancient past. The air was thick with the smell of incense and old wood, the scent of tradition and stagnation.

At the center of the hall stood the High Elder, his silver robes glimmering faintly in the dim light. Surrounding him were several of the Sect’s elite disciples, their faces a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“Wei Zhen,” the High Elder spoke, his voice measured and calm, though there was an undeniable tremor beneath his words. “You return after so many years, and yet you come not as a student, but as a destroyer. What is it that you seek?”

Wei Zhen’s eyes were cold, his expression unreadable. He took a step forward, his presence radiating an oppressive force that made the disciples flinch.

“I seek nothing but the Dao,” he replied, his voice low and unwavering. “The path you have chosen is a false one. You cling to your mortal desires, your petty struggles, believing that power will bring you peace. But you are mistaken. You are nothing but ants scurrying around, unaware of the giant that watches over you.”

The High Elder’s face tightened, but he held his ground. “You speak of the Dao, yet you forsake everything that makes us human. We are not gods, Wei Zhen. We are mortals, striving for something greater. To abandon our humanity is to abandon our essence.”

“The essence of mortals is fleeting,” Wei Zhen said, his tone sharp like the edge of a blade. “You speak of striving for greatness, yet all you do is delay the inevitable. Death is the true equalizer. And you will learn, just as the gods and demons before you have learned, that nothing—no one—is beyond the reach of the Dao.”

As the last word left his lips, a surge of energy exploded from his body, a wave of power so intense that it cracked the stone floor beneath him. The disciples staggered back, some falling to their knees as they were overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of Wei Zhen’s aura. Even the High Elder seemed to falter, his hands trembling as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"You have lived too long in this world of illusions," Wei Zhen continued, his gaze narrowing. "You think you can control immortality, but it controls you. The more you chase after power, the more you become its slave. You cannot escape the truth."

The Elder raised a hand, his face grim. "Wei Zhen, this is madness. Do you truly believe that you can erase us all? We have followed the path of the Dao for generations. We will not fall to your misguided rage."

Wei Zhen’s lips curled into a cold smile. "You cannot follow the Dao, Elder. You only follow your own desires. You think you can control it, but you are nothing but puppets in the hands of fate. If you disturb my path, if you continue to impede my Dao, I will reduce you to dust. And so it will be with all who stand in my way."

With a flick of his hand, the air crackled, and the temperature in the room plummeted. The disciples screamed in terror as the floor beneath them cracked and splintered. One by one, they were swallowed by the dark energy that surged from Wei Zhen's body. Their forms disintegrated into ash, their screams echoing in the chamber as they vanished into nothingness.

The High Elder, now standing alone, watched in horror as his disciples were erased from existence. His face paled, and for the first time in centuries, he understood the true meaning of Wei Zhen’s words.

"You... You are not a god," the Elder whispered, his voice barely audible.

Wei Zhen's cold eyes locked onto his. "No. I am not a god. I am something far worse. I am the reckoning. And you have disturbed my Dao."

The Elder’s knees buckled beneath him, and he collapsed onto the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please... Have mercy. We... we never meant to—"

"You have already chosen your fate," Wei Zhen interrupted. His voice was as emotionless as the void itself. "You think you can change the inevitable, but you cannot. The Dao is immutable. You and your Sect were always destined to fall."

With another flick of his hand, a burst of energy shot forth, and the Elder's form was obliterated, reduced to nothing but dust that blew away in the wind. There was no trace left of him, no remains, no memory. Only ashes remained.

Wei Zhen stood alone in the hall, his expression unchanged. He gazed out at the vast expanse of the sect, now empty and silent. The once-proud structure had crumbled in an instant, its foundations shattered by the truth he had unleashed.

His path was clear now. There would be no more distractions. No more foolish mortals clinging to false hopes. The Dao was his, and anyone who dared disturb it would be erased, just as the Sect had been.

As Wei Zhen turned and walked away from the ruins of the Heavenly Sect, he knew that his journey was far from over. The world was vast, filled with those who would attempt to stand against him. But he would not be swayed. His resolve was absolute.

The Dao would be his, and all who stood in his way would meet their karma