A vast, dark, and deathly silent asteroid belt, densely packed with deep-hued, varied asteroids. Wisps of cosmic dust drift everywhere, forming a misty veil that fills every direction—yet with Andrew Han’s Stellar Palace–level vision, he can see through tens of millions of meters.
“Where exactly is this so-called origin?”
Andrew Han flew forward slowly and meticulously, threading through gaps in the endless asteroids, as though swimming in a bizarre ocean of stars.
Everywhere he looked, there were only asteroids.
Aside from asteroids and cosmic dust, this place felt like a forsaken land of deathly silence.
“Strange.”
Andrew Han couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
Unbeknownst to him, drifting asteroids behind his back happened to conceal a half-severed, bleeding remnant.
It was a hiding place seemingly crafted by nature itself.
No matter how Andrew Han turned or swept his gaze across the scene, every time he looked back or caught the area in his peripheral vision, the asteroids always just happened to cover that half-severed remnant. Those blood-red eyes stared unblinkingly at his back.
There was a chilling sense of dread.
Those blood-red eyes held a glimmer of longing, though it was impossible to tell what they yearned for.
“Hm.”
Andrew Han turned thoughtfully, but the floating asteroids blocked his view.
Standing in the void, he shook his head, a look of confusion on his face. “The origin of the Lunyis Star System…”
“According to Spark-Heritage Zone, the fundamental reason this star system suppresses all cultivation paths except life-genes is right here!”
He pondered for a moment.
Andrew Han casually found a place to land.
He stood atop an asteroid, seeing nothing unusual around him. Even his ever-present soul perception found nothing.
It was utterly empty.
Utterly silent.
This left Andrew Han puzzled. “A message from the Celestial Mechanism Order symbolizes Spark-Heritage Zone’s guidance. That’s encrypted Human Supreme Hall–level information—even a typical second-rate life race couldn’t crack it no matter how hard they tried.”
He turned again, and once more the asteroids blocked his view.
Even with soul perception, there was nothing behind the asteroids.
“It all seems normal.”
“But my spine feels cold—something’s definitely off.” Andrew Han’s mind flashed with guesses and deductions.
As a composite Stellar Palace–level lifeform, and a Primeval-tier Human, it was almost impossible for him to be mistaken!
So...
Since there were signs...
If he kept dismissing them as illusions or hallucinations out of habit, that wasn’t just muddling through life—it was low intelligence. People like that usually didn’t survive long...