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Shen Yuan was more than familiar with transmigration stories. He'd first read a few at the insistence of his younger sister and had later sought out more on his own. While he didn't necessarily enjoy most of them — really, every main character just so happened to gain a harem? How unrealistic!! — he still found them fascinating. There were so many possibilities! So many worlds to explore beyond what was already known!
He'd found himself wondering what he'd do, if he ended up transmigrating into a different world. Would he try to change the story for the better? Maybe explore the world and ignore the story altogether! Or perhaps he'd end up as someone important and have a System dictate what he was allowed to do.
He thought he was ready for anything.
And he was, truly.
But there was nothing.
When Shen Yuan woke up in the world he later identified as Proud Immortal Demon Way, he was still reeling from shock. Once he got his bearings and realized what had happened, he was cautiously optimistic. Usually in these stories things went well! And sometimes the people who transmigrated even got to return home at the end!
So, Shen Yuan set out to figure out what world he was in.
Having read every single chapter of PIDW, it didn't take Shen Yuan very long to understand what world he was in. If the charred mountains he'd awoken close to wasn't enough of a hint, the sky tinted red and mix of demonic and human architecture would have been the next best thing. So, he knew where he was.
He also knew something was wrong with the world. Everything looked like Airplane had described it, the burnt down peaks still smoldering as if the very mountain of Cang Qiong had grown resentful. The palace of Huan Hua was garish and pompous, just as ugly to look at as he always expected it to be. It was Proud Immortal Demon Way, Shen Yuan knew it was, but something was missing.
The living.
No matter where he wandered, it was as if time itself had stopped. The sun never set, the wind forever still, no rain nor cloud. Every town and city was empty, as if there'd never been anyone there to begin with. At first, he'd worried about finding corpses, that some sort of plague or disaster had struck, but… there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Each house was empty, every forest devoid of critters and beasts. Plants and trees existed, but Shen Yuan suspected that could he sense qi he'd find them containing none of it.
He couldn't help but wonder if the world was already like this before he transmigrated. Was this what happened when a story ended? It's world simply… stopped? It's people ceased to be?
If so, then why was he here? If there was nothing else here, no one else here, then what was his purpose? He'd called out for a System, but there wasn't one. He'd searched cities, villages and had once again returned to the ashy remains of the Cang Qiong sect.
Shen Yuan was alone.
Completely alone.
Seventy seven days.
"Can anyone hear me?"
"I… I just… want to hear a voice that's not mine again."
"Please? Surely a System or… or a god must have sent me here, right?"
"Then why won't they tell me why I'm here?"
"Am I supposed to fix it?"
One hundred and forty two days.
"I found this sunny spot over by the ocean."
"The view is really nice."
"I wish the waves would lap over my feet."
"Maybe… this isn't so bad after all?"
Two hundred and sixty one days.
"I don't need eternity! I don't need immortality!"
"There's no fresh air, nothing moves or breathes—"
"No matter how far I walk it's like I never get anywhere."
"No sense of progress, no change to anything. No matter what I do, nothing changes—"
"Please… let me leave a footprint in the sand. A smudge in ink. Anything."
Three hundred and ten days.
"I don't feel hunger or thirst. I don't need to sleep."
"I can't sleep."
"There's no food to eat."
"The water slips through my fingers without a single ripple."
"The sun keeps shining, but I feel so cold."
Three hundred and sixty five days..?
"I lost count a long time ago…"
"But I think I've been here for a year…"
"I guess I should do something to celebrate, right?"
"Happy one year anniversary."
"I wish this was my funeral instead."
Shen Yuan lost count. No, in truth… he'd never truly been able to keep count. Always guessing, always assuming. With a sun shining at every hour, how was he supposed to count the days?
No, Shen Yuan had simply pretended. It was easier that way, to have something to mark time. Something to let him think things would change. That things did change.
But nothing did. Not a single thing changed. His hair didn't grow, his skin didn't burn, the sun didn't set.
The sun didn't set.
He'd stopped traveling. Why bother when the world didn't truly move around him? Stopped moving, why bother when nothing changed? Instead he spent his time watching the sky. Waiting. Hoping.
No, not hoping anymore. Wishing. Praying. Begging.
Had there been a rift to the abyss, he would've jumped. Had the blackened protagonist himself shown up in front of him, he would've pleaded to be saved.
But Shen Yuan was alone.
Always, always alone.