Across fifty solar systems in the Central Ring, the serene cosmic skies suddenly turned as black as pitch.
Massive vortexes of unnatural, oily purple storm clouds formed in the upper vacuum, swirling with violent intensity.
Deep inside Vault #5, Ancestor Du Gu’s dark-matter atmospheric agitators were pumping thousands of tons of volatile metallic salts into the atmosphere.
Sheets of jagged crimson and black lightning tore through the dark clouds, shaking mountain ranges and causing planetary crusts to vibrate.
Down on the surface of Planet Seven-Three-Nine, ten thousand righteous cultivators were sitting in open temple courtyards, preparing for their heavenly breakthroughs.
[Righteous Cultivator Coalition. 100,000 Core-Formation & Nascent-Origin Disciples. Goodness Scores: 84–98 / 100.]
Young Daoist Qing Yun, a gentle herb-gatherer with an eighty-eight goodness score, looked up at the terrifying crimson sky.
His face was pale with dread, his hands trembling as he shielded his medicinal furnace.
