I was alive.

I smelled wood. Metals. Mold. Dirt. Sweat.

I blinked and sat up. The daylight infused the room with a warm glow, despite the mounds of stuff around me. My eyes adjusted to the light and revealed what lay around me.

Scraps of wood, and rusted tools littered every surface. The floors were haphazard mounds of wood chips. Rough-looking tables were laden with a variety of blank wood pieces. Most of which still had bark and branches attached.

I stood and dusted myself off. The rough clothes I had were akin to food sacks and I smelled myself. When had I last showered?

I walk around the room. There were signs of life here. Despite the chaos, there were spaces to walk, and half-formed pathways to navigate.

I spread out my senses, limited as they are, but no other sentient life was here. Only this silent building and myself. My home?

A home if I was going to be generous. A shoddy, multi-room shack if I was being honest. Home sweet home.

The walls were rough, but thick enough to keep out the worst elements. I recall the winters being very cold though. There was a lot of patchwork to fill large gaps. The workmanship was very poor.

I eyed the overflowing fireplace and grimaced. A huge pile of ashes. This was all a death trap. Did I live here?

My senses turned inward and the world changed. Hazy memories of myself shambling about in a lunatic fit. Seasons worth of life energy had seeped into the random bits of wood strewn about.

That was one of the key aspects of wood. The ability to channel, and store energy. If it was properly carved, treated, and refined. 

A big ‘if’ considering the stuff all around me. 

The scraps? A lot of half-finished something or other. I could feel a touch of life energy from the odd bits and ends. It was all a mess and I picked up a random piece. 

A dowel rod for something. I grimaced at the imperfect freehand carving. I could see three different sections using three different techniques.

I stared at what was a rod? 

Instead, it was more like a folded umbrella. I could do better now, but my past self was without a doubt, a fool.

I placed the dowel back and began to move about the house.

Disorderly was a good way to say condemned. I was halfway surprised that there was no evil presence incubating in dark corners. Though some parts were disgusting.

I have no idea how mold was growing in the corner piles of wood, but there it was. I shuddered to think where it was all drawing moisture from.

I glanced into the kitchen and spied some wheat and root vegetables, but little else. The clutter was all stained and rusted. 

I stared at the malformed and rotten sink. All were alive despite the fact there was no water nearby. 

I shook my head and moved away.

I found my bedroom. A messy place of similar clothes, and a threadbare bed. No windows but there were enough cracks in the walls to let light shine through well enough.

I found a mirror and saw myself. While my senses could show one thing, a reflection was often another way to view the world. 

Was I not a beauty?

A beard speckled with silver. My long hair dangled in a frayed mess. Emaciated body from lack of care and food. I was pale from a life indoors and yet my brown eyes sparkled as I stared at myself.

It seemed that I had regained my sense of self far later in life. Though to be fair, I am shocked that I am awake after all.

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I was alive.

The confrontation between me and my ex-first-wife was very explosive. Something I was sure I could never recover from. I had exhausted every reserve and then some. In the end, I gave even my faint life force away.

My Starchild should have eaten me… 

Why have I not dissolved back into the Astral Lines? 

I had enough life energy left to do something. I could become a universal constant across a multidimensional nexus. A greater god was the best scenario, but a new Astral Line would have been the most probable outcome.

An artery of cosmic energy at best. A vein of cosmic forces at worst.

Yet I was alive once more. No sea of energy. No outstanding secrets or troves of treasures. 

Only me.

I took a breath as I walked outside. The simple door creaked and scuffed against the flooring. The rusted hinges were a dense orange and red against the simple brown wood.

Outside showcased my home. A simple single-story structure. Bedroom, kitchen, living room. An outhouse stood out to the side and I knew at a glance that it was a disaster.

My senses could feel a foreboding aura around it. The residual energy of who I was at the time. I could well imagine it. An unstable man who had fragmented memories of a million lives that spanned eons.

I sighed. Oh how pitiful, past me. You had suffered for decades. I felt sadness as I realized I must have had moments of clarity before. 

Was this another moment?

Best hypothesis, I took that long for everything to settle. For my memories to crystallize for this mortal mind. All so that I could awaken once more.

Only the Starchild could know how much I remembered or forgotten. Memories were fun like that. Without my Astral Core, I would only recall a fraction of what I was once.

It was odd. I had no Astral Core and yet I did not panic. Was this the result of an eon of wisdom?

I contemplated this fact as I stared out and into the world beyond. I couldn’t see the multidimensional planes, but I could see the physical reality.

Trees dotted the land and I took a breath as nature's energy entered me. It had been decades since this body did any cultivation, but I had knowledge of many things to back me up.

Even this old, decrepit body would not be enough to hold me down. I recalled that life where I had reincarnated into a limbless, blind, deaf, beggar.

I had forged a body of iron and became a martial emperor. A literal body of iron as I used scrap metals to forge new limbs. Was this body that much inferior to that starting point?

Speaking of scraps, it seemed I was at least wealthy in that. I counted at least five trash heaps as tall as my house off to the south. There could be more if they are behind the first five.

How interesting. I couldn’t sense it all, but I would soon. Scraps were one man’s garbage, but turn on a single grain of sand. Trash becomes another man’s treasure.

I would need to meditate and recall this body’s memories. There were many questions. Aside from a house of trash, I had no answers.

I stared into the sky as my thoughts churned. Countless lifetimes of struggling, insanity, and odd bits of happiness.

I chased my ex across every realm and confronted her on endless battlefields. Yet our bonds remained. It was either beautiful or hideous.

My final memories of her were a double death strike. Her cursed sword had pierced my body, and ten thousand curses corroded me like acid. My sword in turn pierced her heart, which in retrospect was a mistake.

Regardless of whatever enlightenment she reached in the end... she was still a heartless bitch. I had struck no vital organ.

I muttered a prayer to the final light that she found true peace and reaped whatever karma she had sown. The fact that I was still alive was still shocking. I had ended reality with her, and our Starchild had decided that it had wanted to live…

No. 

It was me who wanted it to live, right? That original wish, so long ago. For my child to live a happy life. Had the Starchild responded to that?

No answers came. No touch from the distant heavens. Me, myself, and I.

Even if I survived, I was now lost. My purpose of revenge was now settled. So what would I do now?

In this forest where I could see no other homes. Amid a pile of scrap with almost nothing else.

I stared at the setting sun. The orange light blanketed the world and I grinned.

Was I not once Drifting Snow Among the Regal Peaks of the Immortal Mountain?

I had earned an unknown amount of nicknames, titles, and legends. All forged by blood, sweat, and tears. I was forged by fire, flames, and battlefields.

Had I not escaped the Celestial Stellar Prison? One hundred and Eight black holes designed to keep me imprisoned into insanity? How many lives had I saved or reaped across time and space?

Sure, I went insane, but that skewed outlook allowed me to break free. Then I became free enough to ascend into the greater god realm. That surprised my enemies, and I was happy to show them my thoughts on the matter.

A rebuttal that involved seven super novas and them trapped in the center. A very climatic end to our disagreements.

Now I was here on some mortal plane. I could break free again. It would take some time, but I was confident I could do it in under a century.

Or.

I leaned against the door frame and the whole wall creaked. A concerning problem as I was aware of my body weight. What little was there was now leaning the entire wall a touch to the left.

Or I could retire. Enjoy the simple life and relax. While this may not be my last life, it could be.

I smiled as I watched the sun dip into the horizon.

I looked into the sky and saw no moon, but I knew there was one orbiting body. The memories knew it.

The hidden moons often meant many things across all cultures. Similar thoughts were universally adopted. No moonlight was considered a sign of either beginnings or ends.

A new moon, meant the death of the old me. New Moon, meant a rebirth of the current me.

Ah, the romantic in me. What an idiot. A person who should have died but did not.

I smiled as I continued to stare at the night sky.

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Chapter 001 - Drifting Snow Among the Regal Peaks of the Immortal Mountain