The wind hit his face like someone had thrown a pillow soaked in spirit energy.
Adam blinked.
He was back.
The red sky of the lower cultivation world stretched wide above him. The cracked horizon glowed faintly. The pit he'd left behind—the one that had screamed, whispered, and begged for attention—was still there, trembling like a child that had seen too much.
He stared at it for a moment. No words. No dramatic thoughts.
Then he raised his hand.
Snapped his fingers.
Reality folded itself shut like a lazy book.
The pit vanished.
Done.
Closed.
No ripple. No trace. Like it had never existed.
Adam stood in silence.
Then he nodded to himself and muttered, "Okay. Now I deserve some fun."
He stretched, cracking his neck. "God-devouring resets, Core conspiracies, my shadow trying to kill me later… I've earned a vacation."
And with that, he floated off the ground and headed west.
Not fast.
Not flying.
Just floating.
