A man sat slumped in a chair, facing a tarnished mirror.


    His hair, streaked with wisdom and decay, fell over his face in tangled disarray, obscuring the uneasy glint in his eyes.


    "This doesn’t make sense…" His voice was a whisper, brittle and frayed.


    Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his gaze to meet his reflection. A pale face, sunken yet unfamiliar, stared back.


    His own expression—horrified, disbelieving—was like that of a man staring into the abyss and seeing something stare back.


    "I’m not this man…" The words came unbidden, a choked murmur. His hands gripped his temples, as if holding his very self together.


    Then—


    Knock. Knock.


    A sharp, calculated sound that cut through the suffocating silence.


    Fang Xin jerked upright, his breath shallow. His fingers twitched, the phantom sensation of something wrong crawling under his skin.


    He turned toward the door, each step heavy with a dread he couldn’t place.


    Hesitantly, he pulled it open.


    "Y-yes?" His voice barely escaped his lips.


    The figure standing before him was gaunt, his skin stretched thin over jagged bones. His eyes—cold, amused, and brimming with something hollow—locked onto Fang Xin’s with an unsettling familiarity.


    "Fang Xin, you look like a corpse left to rot in a forgotten crypt. Have you finally begun your descent?"


    The man’s voice was a rasping chuckle, laced with mockery. His body twisted unnaturally, and his spine cracked like dry twigs as his posture entered a disgusting pose.


    "You should at least try to have a spine, your cowardice disgusts me." He eerily laughed as he pointed towards his spine in an impossible position.


    Fang Xin swallowed hard, his stomach churning.


    "Yes, I apologize, Bai Shi. I will be on my way." He forced the words out, steadying himself.


    "Don’t apologize to me, coward." Bai Shi scoffed, turning on his heel.


    Bai Shi was a bit depressed and angry that Fang Xin hadn''t laughed at his joke, one he thought was hilarious.


    The walk to the meeting chamber was silent, save for the distant echoes of whispers that seemed to slither through the corridors.


    Fang Xin didn’t look up. He didn’t dare. The air felt heavier here, thick with something unseen, something watching.


    His mind was in turmoil. He could remember things, memories that were not his, that belonged to this body. Yet the knowledge of his own past eluded him, slipping through his grasp like ever elusive sand.


    His breath hitched.


    "Wake up."


    A sharp slap to his back jolted him.


    Bai Shi''s almost skeletal face grinned as he gestured toward an imposing set of doors.


    "We’re here."


    Fang Xin stared ahead. The door loomed before him, waiting, watching.


    He swallowed, took a step forward, and entered through the door.


    "Creeeaakkk.."


    As the door slid across the stone floor, four gazes met Fang Xin''s eyes, as attention was turned to him exclusively.


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    Fang Xin''s nose was assaulted with a metallic scent mixed with dirt. He didn''t want to know why.


    "Finally you enter. Take your seat." A domineering man stated. He was wearing a dark cloak with suspicious stains splattered across it.


    Fang Xin felt discomfort as memories surged forward. This man was the Sect Leader.


    The memories that appeared made Fang Xin shudder as he saw images of the smiling Sect Leader brutalize those of the righteous faction, devastating their forces and the families of the individuals themselves.


    Fang Xin’s mouth went dry.


    "Yes, Sect Leader." He managed, forcing a smile that barely reached his eyes.


    Bai Shi smiled disgustingly as he enjoyed Fang Xin''s passive attitude in front of his honored Sect Leader.


    Fang Xin pulled out his chair and sat on it. Along the whole way here until now, the eyes of the group hadn''t left him. He felt like prey that had been led into a lion''s den.


    Fang Xin couldn''t help but feel horrified at the thought that they had noticed he was an impostor that was mimicking and puppetering a body that wasn''t his own.


    In some ways, Fang Xin was horrified at himself, once more drawing attention to his unique dilemma.


    Bai Shi joined the table and only then did everyone switch their focus to the Sect Leader.


    Fang Xin’s gaze flickered from one elder to the next, his heart pounding in his chest. His memories were fragmented, distorted, yet this room felt all too familiar.


    These were the Elders of the Degenerate Demon Sect—powerful, unpredictable, and ruthless. Each one was a threat, including himself.


    If they suspected his true identity, the consequences would be unbearable. Torture would be the least of his worries. The sect had methods that could tear apart the mind, shatter the spirit—excruciating, beyond any mortal imagination.


    Even worse, if they mistook him for a spy from the righteous factions, the torment would be endless. His own mind recoiled from the thought.


    Forcing his thoughts back into focus, Fang Xin tried to recall what little he could about each elder, using the original Fang Xin’s memories to anchor himself in the present


    The first elder to drag him to this meeting was Elder Bai Shi, the Hollow Lich.


    A man—or what remained of one—obsessed with death and decay.


    Bai Shi’s cultivation was notorious for its grotesque nature; he harvested bones from the dead, using them not only to sustain himself but to augment his power.


    His body was a patchwork of the dead, constantly swapping bones to create new, more powerful forms. A corpse cultivator of unparalleled skill, his experiments were whispered about in terrified tones throughout the sect.


    Fang Xin could remember little of the original Fang Xin’s interactions with Bai Shi. Only vague flashes of a man in the early Core Formation Realm, his gaze distant, his obsession with death an unsettling undercurrent to every conversation.


    The contrast between Bai Shi’s level of power and his own—late Foundation Establishment—was almost laughable.


    Fang Xin’s gaze moved to the other three elders, but his mind struggled to place them. Their faces were a blur of unease, the fragmented memories refusing to solidify into anything useful.


    The first was a woman, stunning in an almost unnatural way, her charm capable of bending anyone’s will with a mere glance. There was a coldness in her beauty, a hollow, predatory air that made Fang Xin’s skin crawl.


    Next, his eyes shifted to a man in vampire-like garb, his long, sharp features more fitting of a nightmarish tale than a living being. His attire screamed of ancient origins and his presence was unnervingly silent, as if he existed in a different dimension entirely.


    Fang Xin could feel the weight of his gaze from across the room, and it unsettled him more than he was willing to admit.


    He had no memories of this elder, no inkling of their relationship, and that made him all the more dangerous.


    Lastly, there was this massive, deformed man, his features twisted in grotesque ways that made him appear less human.


    His sheer presence was intimidating, a wall of raw power and brutality. The scars that lined his face seemed to tell stories of a violent past, but his eyes—cold, calculating—told a different story.


    There was something about his aura that made Fang Xin''s pulse quicken, the instinctive sense of danger throbbing through his veins.


    The fact that all he could go on was appearances for these three made Fang Xin more nervous. Unpredictable variables were more challenging to overcome.


    "As I was saying," the Sect Leader''s voice cut through the tension, "there are too many pests at our borders, and not enough disciples to keep watch on these squirming worms."


    "I’ve noticed that you’ve all been doing your utmost to assist in this conflict," the Sect Leader continued, smiling as his gaze lingered on each elder before resting on Fang Xin.


    "Except you."


    His smile evaporated, and Fang Xin''s blood turned to ice.


    "You''ve yet to take on a single disciple, Fang Xin. If you want to continue ‘living’ in this sect, you’d better change that—quickly." The Sect Leader’s smile returned, but it was far from reassuring.


    The deformed elder cracked a smile at the Sect Leader’s words. If not for his respect, Fang Xin was sure he would have laughed.


    "Yes, Sect Leader," Fang Xin said hurriedly, trying to hide the rising panic in his chest.