The Breaking Point
The abandoned storehouse was silent save for the sound of Shen Lian's breathing. He sat cross-legged, veins dark under the skin of his arms, sweat dripping from his brow.
Inside him, the lotus trembled, four black petals unfurled, each glowing with a faint, eerie light.
And each had a face.
Lu Chen smirked at him from one petal, eyes full of arrogance.
The dagger-boy wept and cowered on another.
The wolf snarled and howled, eyes burning red.
And the fourth… the fourth was Zhao Kun, the inner disciple he had half-drained. His face was twisted in hatred, screaming wordless curses.
The voices struck him at once.
Fight! sneered Lu Chen. Take, take, take until nothing's left!
I'm afraid… I'm dying… help me… whimpered the dagger-boy.
HUNT! TEAR! KILL! howled the wolf.
You stole me… thief! Demon! shrieked Zhao Kun.
Shen Lian clutched his head, teeth gritted. Their words weren't sounds—they were instincts flooding his blood, each trying to steer his body. His arms trembled, moving without his will—one moment curling like claws, the next flinching, the next reaching to strangle air.
"No," he hissed through his teeth. "I am not… you."
The lotus pulsed harder, qi surging through his veins. His body jerked, thrown into spasms as if four hands wrestled for control inside him.
For a heartbeat, Shen Lian's vision fractured. He saw through Lu Chen's eyes, swaggering and cruel. Through the wolf's, stalking prey. Through Zhao Kun's rage. Through the dagger-boy's despair.
Then the world snapped back, and he was on his knees, blood dripping from his nose. His own reflection stared back at him in a puddle—except the eyes were not his. Four sets of eyes, each layered, glaring back.
The whispers pressed harder. Surrender. You are us. We are you.
Shen Lian slammed his fist into the ground. The earth cracked, veins of black qi spreading like roots. "No," he roared. "You are MINE!"
The lotus shuddered. The voices faltered, not silenced but restrained, pulled back by sheer will.
For now.
Shen Lian collapsed onto his side, chest heaving. The lotus still pulsed inside him, hunger gnawing, but he had held it back. Barely.
And he knew one truth with bitter clarity: if he faltered again, even once, the petals would devour him from within.
⸻
The Announcement
The next morning, the sect bells rang three times. Disciples flooded into the main courtyard, their black robes rippling like waves of shadow.
Sect Master Hei Zong stood on the high platform, flanked by elders. His voice carried, slow and heavy.
"Disciples of Black Serpent Hall, the time has come again for our Poison Fang Tournament. In one month, the strongest among you will rise. The victor will earn the sect's rarest venom treasures, new techniques, and—" his eyes glittered "—the chance to represent our Hall against rival sects in the Grand Martial Gathering."
A roar of excitement swept through the crowd. Ambition burned in every eye.
Hei Zong raised his hand, silencing them. "This tournament will be harsher than before. Mercy will not be required. Strength will decide your worth."
Elder Mo Xuan stepped forward, smiling faintly. "And remember—this is not only for honor. It is for survival. Those who prove weak… will be discarded. Those who rise, will feast."
The disciples shuddered, but no one dared defy the words.
⸻
Whispers in the Crowd
As the announcement ended, disciples broke into murmurs.
"The cripple will join too?"
"He's no cripple now… I saw him drain Zhao Kun."
"Demonic arts… if he enters, he'll kill us all."
"Or maybe he'll kill himself first."
Shen Lian stood apart from the others, expression calm, though his veins still ached with the voices he had forced down last night. His gray eyes swept across the crowd, unblinking.
Su Rou stood a little behind him, fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to speak, to warn him of Azure Sky Pavilion, to beg him not to enter. But she stayed silent, her heart divided.
Above, Elder Mo Xuan's gaze lingered on Shen Lian, his smile thin and serpent-like.
Good, he thought. Let them all fear him. The lotus blooms fastest when surrounded by prey.
⸻
Cliffhanger
That night, Shen Lian sat alone again, the lotus pulsing in his dantian. The petals trembled, their whispers faint but insistent.
Tournament. Kill them. Take them. More. More.
His hand trembled. His lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.
"One month," he whispered. "One month to master you… or be mastered."
And in the pits below, the Abyssal Serpent stirred, its blind eyes glowing faintly, as though it too awaited the feast to come