Crossing the World of Warcraft: I am an Ancient God

The river of time flows silently, washing away memories and shaping history. What may be enough time for mortal civilizations to cycle through thousands of times is perhaps just a fleeting moment on a cosmic scale.

That absolute dead zone, formed by the final choice of the clouds, still exists coldly in its place, like an unhealable necrotic tissue on the body of the universe. Marked by various powers as the "Forbidden Zone of Chaos," it has become an explorer's nightmare, a mystery scholars cannot unravel, and a stark warning to future generations about the terrifying consequences of the "Chaos Catastrophe." Records of the "Chaos Walker Cloud" have long been simplified into a single symbol—a synonym for madness, destruction, and the "anomaly" that must be eradicated—through official characterization and intentional or unintentional forgetting.

His struggles, his warnings, the helplessness and resolve in his eyes as he plundered energy, the deathly silence as he witnessed his home destroyed, and the almost liberating peace he found when he finally threw himself into the seed… all these details that constitute a complex soul have been smoothed over and forgotten in the grand narrative. Only a very few beings, wandering on the edge of fate and peering into the dust of history, may have caught a trace of a concealed lament, different from the official records, in some ancient fragments, but that is all.

However, in that desolate core where even "existence" itself is denied, in that final wasteland of the extreme conflict and annihilation of the five primordial energies, something beyond the comprehension of all known laws is quietly happening.

Absolute "nothingness" may itself be an ultimate state. When chaos, order, void, holy light, and the unique devouring rules of the mother planet are forcibly compressed, collided, and annihilated under the will of the cloud, and finally return to "nothingness", the process itself touches on a mysterious realm that transcends the boundaries of "being" and "nothingness".

As if to deny this absolute "nothingness," or because the conflict had reached some incredible critical point, in the very center of that dead zone where even the concept of time and space was blurred, a tiny, indescribable **"light"** quietly emerged.

It is neither matter, nor energy, nor rule. It is more like a **concept**, a **singularity of possibility**. It does not emit fluctuations, does not occupy space, and cannot even be detected by any external means. It simply "exists" quietly in that "non-existence," like a sleeping spark deep within the ashes.

Within this "light," one cannot sense the consciousness of the clouds, nor the obsessions or memories of any individual. Everything about him seems to have truly vanished in that ultimate annihilation, returning to true nothingness.

However, if there were a being beyond all that could perceive the essence of this "light," perhaps it could detect a trace that was extremely familiar yet had been completely transformed. That was not the soul of the cloud, but rather the resolute will it embodied in its final choice—a will to break free from fate, refuse to be defined, and transcend all existing categories—imprinted on this newborn "possibility" in an incomprehensible way.

This "light" is the first flower to bloom on the ruins, the first note to resound in absolute silence after the end. It belongs neither to order, nor to chaos, nor to holy light, nor to the void, nor to any known civilization. It is a completely new and unknown **beginning**.

It hovered silently in the core of the dead zone, as if waiting. Waiting for an opportunity, waiting for a long period of preparation, or perhaps simply waiting for its internal evolution to reach a certain stage.

A new story, its first seed, has already been quietly planted in the deepest part of this graveyard that buries all the old grudges, sacrifices and prejudices.

No one knows what it will ultimately give rise to.

Perhaps, it will be a completely new legend where there is no longer a struggle between "the firstborn" and "the ruins," no longer a debate between "order" and "chaos," no longer a distinction between "light" and "darkness."

Before that legend began, there was only eternal silence, enveloping that faint new sprout that represented infinite possibilities...

Meanwhile, Yun slowly opened her eyes. The blinding light made her a little dazed. She shook her head slightly and found herself in front of a monitor with a "disconnected" message on the screen. Yun couldn't believe it. She looked around carefully and the noise from the side gradually filled her ears.

"Holy crap! Is this jungler an idiot?! The bot lane is getting ganked to a pulp, and he's still farming those jungle monsters!"

"Support! Ward! Place a ward! Did you buy a real ward in your starting item? Are you going to pluck it out and give it to your mom as a dowry?... Damn it!"

"The strongest player from Ionia has logged in on machine number 33. Enjoy the game!"

Yun looked around incredulously, feeling that everything was so unreal. What had happened before? Was it all real?

Yun gripped the table tightly with her trembling hand.

"Crack!" The table made a slight cracking sound, and Yun was now certain that something must have happened to her.