They ran.
Not in panic… but with purpose.
The eastern path was narrow, carved into the mountain's side like a scar. Mist drifted along the edges, veiling the sheer drop below. Every step sounded too loud.
Too alive.
Ji Ming led the way, each stride controlled, blades sheathed for speed. Sol followed close, her breath quick but steady. Ya Zhen moved at the rear, fan in hand, ready to carve sigils into the air the moment pursuit reached them.
Behind them, the mountain pulsed.
Not in metaphor, and not imagination.
A low vibration rippled through the stone, as if the Echo Monastery had awakened fully and now watched their flight with open eyes.
Sol glanced back once. The basin of memory was no longer visible through the fog, but she could feel its awareness lingering, soft as a hand against her spine.
Ya Zhen whispered sharply, "Eyes forward."
Her breath fogged the air. "Thinking of dying this early in the day?"
Sol turned back. "I'm thinking the echoes are… unsettled."
Ji Ming didn't slow. "Then don't give them a reason to follow."
They reached a section of path where the cliff overhang formed a natural canopy. The air thickened, colder, as though they had stepped beneath a winter blanket.
Ji Ming raised a hand. They halted as one.
"Scouts," he murmured.
Not far ahead, faint flashes of silver gleamed between the trees. Mirror Division armor. Three silhouettes… too still, too synchronized.
Ya Zhen's fan snapped half-open. "If they've cut the pass—"
"They haven't." Ji Ming pointed toward the narrow stretch of stone just to their right. "They're guarding the easy path. Not the real one."
Sol followed his gaze.
A thin offshoot of trail clung to the cliff face, barely more than a suggestion, carved long ago and forgotten by most. It led downwards, toward a ravine where mist pooled like spilled ink.
Ya Zhen eyed it skeptically. "If I fall, I'm haunting you."
Ji Ming's tone was dry. "Stay close to the wall and you won't."
Sol stepped onto the narrow ledge first.
The world shifted around her.
For a heartbeat, she wasn't standing on stone… she was inside the mountain. She felt its age, its sorrow, the way rainwater had carved new paths through rock over centuries of silence.
Ji Ming immediately noticed her hesitation. "Sol?"
She exhaled. "It's… listening again."
"Let it listen quietly," Ya Zhen said behind her.
Sol forced her focus back to her feet. One careful step. Then another. The ledge trembled slightly beneath her weight, but held.
Behind them, a faint metallic sound rang out, a Mirror Division flare igniting somewhere near the monastery courtyard.
Ji Ming quickened his pace. "They've found the basin."
Ya Zhen muttered, "And they'll assume we used it to escape."
"We did," Sol whispered.
Ji Ming didn't disagree.
They descended into the ravine as the fog thickened, leaving the scouts' silhouettes behind them. At the bottom, ancient pines grew in spirals, their reflections wavering in pools of runoff from last night's rain.
Sol knelt beside one of the pools and touched the surface.
Her reflection blinked.
She pulled her hand back. "It's following."
Ji Ming crouched beside her. "The Mirror?"
"No," Sol said softly. "The world."
Ya Zhen knelt too, eyeing the water cautiously. "Why?"
"Because I told it I'd come back."
Ya Zhen groaned. "Never promise a mountain anything."
A distant horn sounded… low, mournful. The three froze.
Ji Ming rose immediately, posture tightening. "They've realized we're on the east route."
"Which means," Ya Zhen said, rising as well, "we have ten minutes, maybe less."
Sol stood too. "Then we need to move."
They pressed forward deeper into the ravine, where the trees grew denser and the sound of the Empire's pursuit grew faint… but not faint enough.
Ji Ming's voice was low. "If they catch us here, we lose the high ground."
Ya Zhen swept her fan across the path, clearing low branches. "Then let's not let them."
They pushed through brush until the ravine opened into a hollow — a circle of stone where an old altar lay half-buried under moss. Broken pillars leaned like toppled guardians.
Sol walked toward it instinctively.
"Sol," Ji Ming warned, "careful."
"I know," she said softly. "I can feel it."
The altar still held resonance, a faint hum, rhythmic and steady. She brushed her fingers across its surface, and ancient symbols glowed faintly.
"Another Lotus site," she whispered.
Ya Zhen sighed. "You can hear every rock on this mountain, can't you?"
Sol didn't answer. She knelt and pressed her palm fully to the stone.
Light bloomed beneath her hand.
Not bright… soft, pale, like moonlight reflected on snow. The air shifted around them, warming slightly. The stone responded as though it recognized her.
Ji Ming stepped closer. "Sol… what are you doing?"
"Not doing," she murmured. "Listening."
The light spread outward in quiet pulses.
For a moment, the hollow was silent… then a voice, faint but clear, rose from the stone.
Not the Mirror.
Not an echo.
Something older.
"Return what was taken.
Let memory breathe."
Ya Zhen's expression flickered, a rare moment of unease. "That didn't sound like a welcome."
Sol withdrew her hand. The light retreated.
Ji Ming offered her his arm, steadying. "Does it mean the Mirror? Or something else?"
"Maybe both," Sol said.
Before she could say more, a sharp crack cut through the trees.
Not thunder.
Not resonance.
A crossbow bolt.
It embedded in the tree beside Ya Zhen's head.
She didn't flinch, only turned with slow, lethal calm. "They're closer than I thought."
Ji Ming drew his blades. "We run. Now."
Sol grabbed her pack. "The north trail—"
"No," Ji Ming said firmly. "Too open."
Ya Zhen nodded. "Old quarry path. Imperials won't know it."
Together, they sprinted through the hollow, past the altar, shadows stretching behind them in the thinning fog.
The forest thrashed with pursuit, footsteps, steel against stone, officers calling silent hand signals.
Ji Ming looked back once, eyes narrowing. "They're almost—"
He didn't finish.
Because the ground shook again.
And every pool of water in the hollow glowed.
Sol gasped. "It's waking—"
The reflections rose, dozens of them, not as shapes, but as lights threading upward like strings pulled tight.
The mountain wasn't just watching now.
It was responding.
Ya Zhen whispered, awe mixing with dread, "I hope to heaven you know what you're doing."
Sol didn't.
Not yet.
But the world did.