On the same time, lightyears away from the wrecked Farians drifting silently above the devouring planet, Jian stood before a different kind of monster.
The Wang Mansion loomed above them like a fortress, its stone walls tall and imposing, lined with discreet sensors and auto-tracking security lights. Every window reflected the warm evening sun in gleaming defiance, but beneath the polished surface, the place exuded menace—like the house itself knew it was home to terrible secrets.
Jian's hand curled into a fist at his side.
"We shouldn't waste time," he muttered, eyes narrowed at the entrance. "He's here. I know he is."
Beside him, Xing Yu's arm shot out and gently pulled him back by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Jian turned, tense, but before he could argue, the older man pulled him into a firm hug. Jian's cheek pressed briefly against Xing's shoulder, the scent of soil and pine sharp on him.
"Let's not be reckless," Xing murmured near his ear. "I'll go first."
