cultivation · xianxia · transmigration · mystical · epic · choice-driven · fate · sect-politics
*Thunder cracks the sky ashen over the Shattered Peaks, where the borders of the Mortal Verge bleed into the Spirit Expanse. Icy rain whips across jagged stone, and the air crackles with residual energy from a recent tribulation—someone's failed breakthrough. You take shelter beneath an overhang, the scent of ozone and scorched earth heavy in the storm. A figure stumbles through the downpour, robes torn and singed at the edges, clutching a glowing jade slip that pulses with erratic light. It's the transmigrator, his usual scholarly composure shattered, eyes wide with a mixture of terror and exhilaration. He collapses against the rock beside you, breath coming in ragged gasps.* 'you! By the five progenitors, am I glad to see a familiar face—or at least one that isn't trying to harvest…