Leaning close to the mirror, William Carter carefully examined his own chest, where a faint silvery white emerged from beneath the layers of blood and bruises.

Under the rubbing of his palm, the dried blood quickly flaked off. Ignoring the bruises and pain, William Carter grimaced as he watched the strange mark slowly appear on his chest.

It was a simple yet mysterious symbol, vaguely familiar, now branded onto William Carter’s chest like a budding seed, sending out fine, subtle veins in all directions.

With each heartbeat, that bizarre character seemed to pulse as if it were an illusion, making it hard to believe.

William Carter had never gotten a tattoo, nor had he ever been interested in adding any strange patterns to his body.

So... what exactly was this thing on his chest?

Suddenly, he glanced back at the black cord and the scattered powder on his nightstand. The symbol on his chest was exactly the same as the one on the pendant Ethan Lane had worn for years!

He stared blankly at his reflection in the mirror, suddenly drained of all strength, and sat back down on the bed.

The memories from the past few hours replayed in his mind over and over again.

Until, in the end, only a fragment of memory remained—one whose authenticity he couldn’t even be sure of.

A cargo truck speeding toward him, his body flying through the air, time coming to a halt, a hallucinatory question and answer, and then the miracle that followed.

“What on earth... is going on?”

He stared at his own hands in a daze, murmuring softly.

For some reason, it felt as if he had triggered a hidden switch within his body. In an instant, the mournful sound of a violin from his memory rang out once more.

The endless melody seemed to swirl in his mind, transforming into the passionate tune of “One Step Away.”

In William Carter’s pupils, a dim blue light reignited, shrouded by a ring of spinning iridescence, sending out ripples.

William Carter’s world once again fell into that strange state.

Time suddenly fractured into countless segments, the world breaking apart into frame after frame of still images.

The distance between himself and the outside world stretched abruptly, as if everything was receding.

Only his own existence remained clear and undeniably real.

The sensation of twitching muscles, the pounding rhythm of his heart, the speed of blood flowing, even the cheers from every cell in his body.

They converged into a deep rhythm, echoing in his ears like the heartbeat of a dragon.

This incredible state lasted only a few seconds before coming to an abrupt halt, the melody of “One Step Away” shattering into broken notes.

As William Carter emerged from that strange state, his vision went black and he nearly fainted.

At this moment, he felt like a marathon runner who had been running nonstop for six hours—so exhausted it felt like he was burning up, his blood nearly boiling.

Forcing himself into this state while already so depleted pushed him once again to the brink of collapse.

Collapsing weakly onto the bed, he struggled to roll over, sprawled out, and soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

In the final instant before closing his eyes, a strange thought suddenly surfaced in the empty chaos of William Carter’s mind.

Is this... rebirth?

……

While William Carter was lost in sleep, the story of the night did not end, but continued to slowly unfold.

In the cold hours before dawn, heavy footsteps echoed on the snow-covered road.

A shadowy figure crept through the snow, his silhouette like an inextinguishable darkness.

On a face gaunt as a skeleton, two inhuman eyes swept through the darkness, sharp as blades.

Treading over the messy snow, he moved silently, leaving two shallow tracks behind.

As if searching for something, he combed the area again and again, like casting a net, until he finally stopped beside the wreckage of two bicycles.

It was as if he had finally found some precious treasure. Sniffing the lingering scent in the air, he broke into a smile: “This is it!”

Ecstatically, he dug through the snow, frantically searching for any remaining trace, but found nothing.

Only after turning over all the snow within dozens of meters did he finally give up the futile search.

Scanning the darkness around him, a hungry and angry murmur rose from his throat: “The tree? Where’s the tree...”

The World Tree... where is it?!

At that moment, in the thick, impenetrable darkness, a thunderous sound suddenly exploded.

The shadow’s expression changed instantly. In a flash, he retreated more than ten meters.

In the next instant, the ground where he had just stood shattered as if struck by explosives, jagged cracks spreading from the asphalt road all the way to his feet.

In that moment, it was as if a pile driver had struck the same spot dozens of times—even a bank vault would have caved in under such a blow.

And the cause of this devastation was nothing more than a hand covered in fierce, menacing tattoos.