The night air was colder than before. Not the kind of cold that came from winter's breath, but the kind that slithered beneath the skin and coiled around the heart.
In the heart of the mountains, lanterns swayed outside a once-forgotten temple — the Temple of Falling Stars — where watchers had long abandoned prayer and adopted fear.
But tonight, they watched the moon.
And it bled.
A thin red veil draped across its silver surface, and the monks whispered among themselves in fractured breaths.
"It has begun…"
"The Crimson Oath… has been accepted again."
Inside the sanctum, Master Qingran, one of the oldest guardians of the Forgotten Orders, stared into the sacred mirror. It showed no reflection, only visions.
Visions of a boy walking through fire.
A boy with white hair streaked with ash.
A boy named Mo Lianyin.
And around him, the world cracked.
The master turned to his disciples. "Gather the remaining fragments of the Seven Seals. If we do not bind him soon… Reverie will awaken."
The disciples rushed without question.
But even Qingran knew — it was already too late.
---
Meanwhile
The wind tore at Lianyin's cloak as he descended from the shrine, every step pulsing with heat that wasn't his own. The Crimson Oath throbbed under his skin like a second heartbeat, humming with rage.
He hadn't noticed how quiet the forest had become. Even the wolves were too afraid to howl. Trees bent away from him as if even nature feared what he'd become.
He liked it.
No, he needed it.
Power. Fear. Control.
Things no one ever gave him when he was weak.
Suddenly, a whisper threaded through the trees. "Lianyin."
He stopped.
Turned.
There — half-shrouded in moonlight, stood Auren Lys, his old friend… the only one who still dared to say his name like it hadn't become a curse.
"You shouldn't be here," Lianyin said.
"I came to bring you back."
"There's no 'back' for me."
Auren walked closer, hands raised. "The Oath… you didn't have to do this. We could've found another way."
"There was no other way. You weren't there when they left me in the dark. When they sealed my mouth shut and called it mercy. When they broke my hands so I couldn't draw. When they—"
His voice cracked.
He hated that.
Auren stepped closer. "I know what they did. I'm not here to justify them. But this path… it's not yours."
"Yes, it is," Lianyin whispered. "This path was carved into my bones the day they made me a weapon."
Auren's eyes glistened. "Then let me walk beside you. I won't stop you. But I won't leave you alone again."
Lianyin blinked.
He expected rejection. Maybe a fight. Maybe even betrayal.
But not love.
Love broke him more than hatred ever could.
"…You'll regret it," he muttered.
Auren smiled faintly. "Then we'll regret it together."
They walked in silence.
Not peace.
But not war either.
---
Far away, in the Floating Palace
Seren Vey stood by the balcony, wine glass in hand, watching the skies split with crimson light.
"So the puppet finally pulled its own strings," he said with a smirk.
Velmir, faceless and cold, appeared behind him. "The pact is complete. The heavens are preparing to interfere."
Seren twirled his glass lazily. "Let them. Mo Lianyin is exactly where I want him. He'll destroy the very world that spat him out. And then…"
He turned.
Eyes glowing like molten rubies.
"…I'll kill him myself."
---
That night, as the moon dipped lower and the stars flickered like dying embers, Lianyin and Auren reached the edge of a ruined city — Kuran's Fall — a place swallowed by time and cursed memory.
"I haven't been here since…" Auren began.
"I was born here," Lianyin whispered. "Before they erased that too."
Auren looked at him, startled. "I didn't know."
"No one was supposed to."
They walked through crumbled walls and fractured pillars. Statues missing heads. Temples torn apart. And in the center — a shattered monument.
"Here lies the heart of the moon," Lianyin read, voice dull. "A heart they broke and buried."
Auren placed his hand on Lianyin's shoulder. "We can still find the rest of the Seven Forbidden Arts. You're not the only one who's been betrayed. We can stop them before it's too late."
But Lianyin's eyes darkened.
"The arts aren't for saving," he said. "They're for ending."
Auren stared at him.
And for the first time — he feared what stood beside him.
Not the boy.
But the god he was becoming.