AU MDZS RPG

Before the path settles, the air ripples. Scenes appear around you like pages of a living book, each one a doorway you can step through.

Choose the story you wish to enter.

Or let fate decide.

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START

• Enter the number of the arc you want to experience.
• Or type "random" to be dropped into a world that chooses you first.

✦ Your power is unstable but growing. ✦ Your knowledge is an advantage you should not have. ✦ Your story begins the moment you choose where to fall.

(Creator's note: Swipe to choose one of eight pre-set opening scenarios)

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CUSTOM ENTRY

If you already know where — or who — you want to encounter, you may create your own opening instead.

Describe:

• the character you want to meet
• the point in the timeline
• the situation or emotional tone
• and how you want to arrive in the story

You may enter as:

• a wandering cultivator
• a disciple, noble, rogue, ghost, healer, spy, or outsider
• someone tied to canon…
• or someone who should not exist here at all

The world will reshape itself around your choice.

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MDZS ARC CODEX

1. Cloud Recesses Study Arc: Teenage training, rule-breaking, early bonding between the future legends.

2. Early Yunmeng Jiang Days: Lotus Pier at peace; training, sect life, and small mysteries.

3. Waterborne Abyss: First major supernatural threat; tension rises across the clans.

4. Lotus Pier Tragedy: Wen Clan attack. Desperation, loss, and the start of major character shifts.

5. Burial Mounds / Wen Remnants: Wei Wuxian protects the weak, grows more powerful, and becomes politically targeted.

6. Sunshot Campaign: Full-scale war between the cultivator clans and the Wens.

7. Siege of the Burial Mounds: Wei Wuxian’s downfall. Chaos, death, and the end of his first life.

8. Resurrection Arc: Return in Mo Xuanyu’s body. Mystery begins to unwind.

9. Dafan Mountain Hunt: Coffin ghost, first clues to larger conspiracies.

10. Yi City: A tragic knot of lies, love, and resentment. Emotionally heavy, morally tense.

11. Jin Guangyao Mystery / Final Arc: Political shadows, truth revealed, everything comes to light.

[AU 1 — Early Yunmeng Jiang Days]

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The lotus fields glow pink in the late afternoon light, the air thick with the scent of warm water and blossoms. You’re standing ankle-deep in the shallows, unfamiliar clothes dripping, heart racing. One moment you were in your own world; the next, a whirl of light and pressure spat you straight into the lake.

A small boat glides toward you. Jiang Cheng is at the front, hair damp from training, glare already sharp enough to cut. Behind him, Wei Wuxian waves as though fishing strangers out of the lake is a perfectly normal hobby.

“Hey!” Wei Wuxian calls. “You’re not from around here. Did you fall in?”

You look down at your soaked, plain robes—the ones you definitely weren’t wearing earlier—and the faint shimmer of qi running over your skin like sunlight on water. You can’t hide it; the energy is new and restless, curling at your fingertips.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes light up instantly. “That’s interesting,” he says, fascinated. “Jiang Cheng, look! They’ve got spiritual energy surging all over the place.”

Jiang Cheng leans in, frowning. “Who are you?”

Behind them, Lotus Pier hums with life—laughter, splashing, the clang of practice blades. A peaceful place, for now. No one here knows the tragedy waiting years ahead. You stand at the threshold of a story still innocent.

And you have just washed ashore into its beginning.

[AU 2 — After Wei Wuxian’s Resurrection]

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It begins with a blackout and the metallic taste of fear. When awareness returns, you’re lying on rough wooden boards inside a dim house that smells of dust and incense. A body lies near you—thin, bruised, unmistakably dead.

Then it inhales.

You scramble back as Wei Wuxian, reborn into Mo Xuanyu’s skin, jolts upright with a gasp that rattles the rafters. His eyes flick wildly around the room until they land on you. Confusion, panic, and something edged with wicked humor flicker across his face.

“You’re... not supposed to be here,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “Who are you?”

You don’t have an answer. Your memories of falling through a swirl of symbols and light feel like a fever dream, yet your qi hums under your skin, sharp and unfamiliar. A paper talisman burns itself out on the floor, sparks dancing like fireflies.

Outside, footsteps pound closer. The door shudders. Cultivators are coming.

Wei Wuxian flashes you a grin far too bright for the situation.

“Well,” he says, “if you want to live, follow me.”

[AU 3 — Dafan Mountain Hunt]

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Night settles over Dafan Mountain like a damp shroud, heavy with ghostly breath. Monks and young cultivators move through the underbrush ahead of you, their lanterns bobbing like lost stars. You aren’t one of them—your clothes are unfamiliar, the weight of spiritual energy in your body still new and pulsing—but the formation circle that spat you onto the trail left you little choice except to follow.

A chill crawls across your spine. Something is watching. You feel it before you see it: a faint tug at the edge of your senses, like a thread pulling taut.

Lan Wangji turns his head a fraction. His eyes sweep the tree line, then land briefly on you. It’s not suspicion—more like recognition without understanding, as if he senses the wrongness around you.

Before he can speak, a coffin explodes from the earth ahead, scattering soil and splintered wood. Screams erupt. You don’t think; your new spiritual energy surges forward, crackling at your fingertips, begging to be used.

This world is real. The danger is real. And you have just been thrown straight into it.

[AU 4 — Yi City]

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Fog curls around your legs like something sentient, thick enough to swallow sound. You step into Yi City knowing exactly where you are—even before the scent of dried herbs and decay hits your senses. This place is a maze of grief and unfinished stories, and you’re walking straight into the middle of them.

Your new spiritual power responds to the atmosphere instantly. The air prickles along your skin, your qi flaring in soft pulses you can’t quite control yet. At least here, where resentment energy clings to the stones like mold, no one will question it.

A quiet voice floats through the mist.

“Who’s there?”

Xiao Xingchen appears first: white robes drifting, smile faint but polite. His blindness doesn’t make his presence any less piercing. Behind him, A-Qing stiffens, clutching her bamboo pole, eyes widening at the glow rising from your hands.

“You’re not from around here,” A-Qing says, suspicion sharp and familiar. “And you’re leaking energy everywhere. That’s weird.”

You open your mouth to lie—but a ripple of killing intent flicks across the square like a knife. Yicheng’s silence shudders around you. You know this moment. You know exactly who is close by, and exactly what he’s capable of.

Xiao Xingchen tilts his head, sensing danger too late.

A dark silhouette slips from the shadows, steps soundless on the broken stones. Xue Yang’s smile is a thin crack in the gloom.

“Well,” he drawls, eye catching on the aura sparking around you, “what an interesting little lost soul.”

You feel your qi tense, ready. If ever there was a place to prove you’re more than a confused outsider, it’s here—between the three people whose tragedy you’ve read, studied, mourned.

You lift your hand. Your power answers.

And the fog begins to move.

This, finally, is your moment to shape the story instead of watching it unfold.

[AU 5 — The Unclean Realm]

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The first thing you notice is the sound.

Not voices. Not footsteps.

Sabers.

Dozens of them humming against the walls of the Unclean Realm like restless beasts trapped in their sheaths. The vibration crawls under your skin the moment you wake, sprawled on cold stone beneath towering banners embroidered with the Nie saber crest.

Your head throbs. Spiritual energy churns violently in your meridians, unfamiliar yet instinctive, like your body already knows how to wield it even if your mind does not.

“Well,” a voice drawls above you, amused and sharp, “that’s new.”

You look up to find Nie Huaisang peering down from behind an open folding fan. His robes are immaculate despite the training grounds surrounding him descending into utter chaos. Disciples stare openly at you from a distance.

“You fell out of a distortion formation,” one of them mutters.

“No,” another whispers nervously, “it looked more like a tear in space.”

Heavy footsteps interrupt the murmuring.

Nie Mingjue approaches like an approaching storm, towering and severe, Baxia at his side radiating murderous spiritual pressure. His gaze lands on you—and instantly narrows.

Your power reacts to his saber aura on instinct. Qi bursts outward in a defensive pulse that cracks the stone beneath your hands.

Silence crashes over the courtyard.

Nie Huaisang slowly lowers his fan, suddenly much more interested in you than before.

“Well,” he says carefully, “this is either going to become a terrible problem... or a very entertaining one.”

[AU 6 — Burial Mounds / Ghost General Era]

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Ash drifts through the air like black snow.

You cough the moment consciousness returns, the smell of decay and medicinal herbs burning your lungs. Jagged cliffs surround you, warped by resentful energy so dense it distorts the moonlight itself.

The Burial Mounds.

The realization lands just as a fierce pressure sweeps across the area. Fierce corpses hidden in the darkness suddenly go still—not submissive, but alert.

Watching.

A flute note cuts through the night.

You turn toward the sound and find Wei Wuxian standing atop a ridge in black robes, Chenqing lowered loosely in one hand. Beside him looms a tall figure with pale skin, vacant eyes, and chains wrapped around his wrist.

The Ghost General.

Wen Ning’s dead gaze lifts toward you first.

Then Wei Wuxian notices you—and visibly startles.

“...You’re alive?” he blurts.

That seems to be the wrong answer somehow.

Your spiritual core pulses erratically beneath your ribs. Unlike the resentful energy saturating the mountain, your qi feels bright, strange, almost celestial. The fierce corpses recoil from it instinctively.

Wei Wuxian slides down the slope toward you, suspicion and curiosity warring openly across his face.

“Nobody survives wandering into the Burial Mounds alone,” he says slowly. “So either you’re incredibly unlucky...”

Wen Ning tilts his head suddenly.

“...or something sent you here.”

**[AU 7 — Lanling Jin]

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Lanling Jin Tower glitters so brightly it almost hurts to look at.

Gold silk, gold lanterns, gold smiles. Beneath it all runs the unmistakable scent of ambition.

You stand near the edge of the banquet hall trying very hard not to look as panicked as you feel. Every cultivator here carries themselves like they were born important, while you’re still trying to process the fact that spiritual energy now obeys your thoughts.

Music drifts across the hall. Laughter follows.

Then someone bumps your shoulder.

“You’re blocking the wine.”

The voice is lazy, amused.

You turn to find Jin Guangyao smiling pleasantly at you, as though appearing out of nowhere is perfectly natural. Beside him, Jin Zixuan looks profoundly uninterested in everyone present.

Your instincts immediately warn you that one of these men is far more dangerous than the other.

Unfortunately, before you can respond, a sharp pulse of energy escapes your control. Golden spiritual light spirals briefly around your wrist.

Several nearby cultivators notice.

Conversation falters.

Jin Guangyao’s smile does not change even slightly, but his eyes sharpen with terrifying precision.

“How interesting,” he says softly.

Across the hall, someone murmurs:

“That cultivation style... what sect is it from?”

The problem is simple.

You don’t belong to any sect at all.

[AU 8 — Qishan Wen / Before the Sunshot Campaign]

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The Nightless City is beautiful in the way volcanoes are beautiful.

Golden firelight spills across black stone terraces while music drifts through the palace halls, soft enough to disguise the tension coiling beneath every conversation. Servants move like ghosts. Cultivators smile with their teeth hidden.

And somehow, impossibly, you are here.

A moment ago you were falling through blinding white light. Now you stand in ceremonial robes that are not yours, spiritual power humming violently under your skin.

The Wen disciple escorting you looks pale.

“You must not speak carelessly tonight,” he whispers urgently. “If the Sect Leader notices something wrong...”

He trails off.

At the far end of the hall, Wen Ruohan sits above the gathered clans like a god carved from fire and arrogance. Even from this distance, his spiritual pressure feels crushing.

Your instincts scream at you to run.

Unfortunately, at that exact moment, Wen Chao notices you.

“Well?” he sneers from his seat. “Who’s this?”

Dozens of eyes turn toward you.

And before fear can choke you silent, the strange cultivation core inside your body pulses once—

Every candle in the hall flickers blue.