(SEASON 1 START) Prologue: The Descent into Madness

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A/N: All rights to the original content are reserved by the respective copyright owner.

EDIT: Rewrote the Prologue with more 'flow'.

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Within the storied annals of the Xianzhou Alliance, nestled amongst sagas of bravery and self-sacrifice, there lies a narrative that glimmers with the mournful luster of a star plummeting from the heavens. This tale chronicles the High-Cloud Quintet, once heralded as harbingers of hope, now a poignant reflection of heroism's inherent vulnerability.

In an age long passed, the High-Cloud Quintet stood as the paragon of the Alliance's might, a cadre of warriors whose renown was inscribed upon the eternal tapestry of the cosmos. Under the leadership of Jingliu, the venerated Sword Champion of the Xianzhou Luofu, these champions from disparate vessels united to liberate their reality from the malevolent grasp of the Denizens of Abundance.

Prominent among them was Y/N, a figure of formidable presence, whose greatsword was not merely an extension of his martial skill but the very embodiment of his spirit. Y/N had been the quintessence of valor, a faithful ally within the Quintet, and an endearing brother-in-arms.

Yet as their war with the Denizens waged, a sinister shadow crept into Y/N's soul—the corrupting touch of Mara, an entity whose malevolence warped the minds of all it ensnared.

-Flashback Start-

Amidst the dim glow of the starship's chamber, the High-Cloud Quintet encircled a holographic image of Y/N. A palpable tension suffocated the room.

Jingliu, with a furrowed brow, addressed the matter, "Y/N, we have borne witness to your transformation. There's an affliction within you."

Baiheng, with eyes full of concern, added, "This is not the Y/N we once knew."

Encased in the shadows, Y/N's countenance was a war-torn landscape of turmoil and despair, as he grappled for the words that might convey the tempest within.

"It's beyond my dominion," he admitted, his voice a fragile whisper. "There's... there's a tempest within, rending me asunder."

A silence fell as the Quintet exchanged glances, the unspoken fears about their brother's plight hanging like a guillotine over their heads.

-Flashback End-

Mara, dubbed the "Long-Life Curse," plagued those species blessed—or cursed—with longevity. It brought cellular mutation, grotesque growths, and the erosion of the mind. Those afflicted would metamorphose into monstrosities, their humanity ebbing away. Though its origins were murky, ties to the immortal Yaoshi, the Aeon of Abundance, and the burden of accumulated eons were suspected.

The deterioration of Y/N's mind was a slow, inexorable march towards madness. His stalwart resolve crumbled into delirium and despair; his once noble claymore now a conduit for anarchy.

Dan Feng's voice, laden with sorrow yet defiant, broke the silence, "There must be some salvation from this plight."

Jing Yuan, with the resolve of a mountain, declared, "Abandoning Y/N is not a choice. We stand united against this fate."

But the mara's clutches were relentless, and the antidote they so desperately sought remained a ghost on the horizon. With each dawn, they witnessed Y/N's descent, each sunset fearing the foregone conclusion. A leaden sorrow bore down upon their hearts, the somber understanding that the man they revered was fading, becoming a shadow of his former glory.

The tale of the High-Cloud Quintet, echoing through the void, served as a haunting memento: even the most valiant of warriors could falter beneath time's inexorable march and the overwhelming burdens of their calling. Love, in all its forms, might traverse the span of eons, but against the encroaching shadows within, it was not always victorious.

Y/N had always been their shield, their unwavering protector. Yet as the encroaching dark of Mara encircled him, it was a lone, desperate endeavor that hastened his tragic descent. In seeking to rescue Jingliu, he encountered a malevolence that latched onto him with serpentine venom. This singular act, meant for salvation, became a pact with damnation.

Weeks passed, and with them, Y/N's greatsword, once a beacon of steadfast resolve, warped into a twisted blade of night. His armor, formerly resplendent, now bore the hues of the abyss—a miasma of darkness exuded from him, an ominous cloud that chilled the very air.

Jing Yuan, eyes reflecting the storm of his thoughts, wrestled with the reality of their plight. "Y/N," he implored, voice cracking with raw emotion, "We refuse to yield to Mara. Your soul is not lost to us."

Yet, the war against the Abundance had frayed Y/N's very essence, his replies growing increasingly erratic moments of clarity swiftly consumed by the burgeoning void within.

The High-Cloud Quintet's pursuit of their deranged brother led them to the surreal expanse, where the fabric of reality undulated like a tormented sea. Their final confrontation loomed.

Approaching Y/N was like approaching a living nightmare. His armor, stained with the scars of his suffering, and eyes that gleamed with unnatural fervor, forced them to confront the abyss that had claimed their friend.

Jingliu, tears carving rivers down her cheeks, pleaded softly, "We will not forsake you to this darkness, Y/N. We will reclaim you from its depths."

Baiheng reinforced her resolve, "We have not come to concede, Y/N. We shall restore you to us!"

And Jing Yuan, with a steadfast gaze, affirmed, "While hope's flame flickers, we will fight for our brother."

But Y/N, lost to Mara's insidious symphony, responded not with words but with a chilling laugh that spoke of unseen horrors. His corrupted blade raised; they stood on the precipice of a battle that would define the fate of a hero—and perhaps the very cosmos.

The combat was a tempest of sorrow and darkness, Y/N's savagery a stark contrast to his former discipline. The High-Cloud Quintet fought not just a battle but a crusade for Y/N's soul, vying to shatter the veil of Mara that had claimed his cognition.

In a climax wrought with turmoil and heartbreak, Y/N's roar was the sound of falling empires; his blade, a vortex of shadows. A flash of cataclysmic energy ensued, and he vanished, leaving his fate an enigma wrapped in the twilight of gods and monsters.

Jingliu, standing amidst the hush of aftermath, her soul an expanse of grief and regret, lifted her eyes to the stars, her confession to the infinite night vibrated with the poignancy of unshed tears and unspoken love.

"Perhaps it was I who needed salvation, for in saving myself, I might have spared you, Y/N. My love, a silent nova against the dark, a lament for the heart you never knew..."

Y/N's fate was sealed within the echoes of eternity, a somber tome in the legacy of the High-Cloud Quintet—a saga of heroism's delicate thread, ever at the mercy of the looming specter of darkness.

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Author's Note:

It's my first time writing a fanfiction, and I've always had this idea to create a story like this cause I'm such a simp for Jingliu, regardless of her being an antagonist to the lore (Maybe).

Do leave comments, your words would be helpful for future chapters.


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