Xīng sat on the floor, wherever Yao had left her. She had gone blind. Her divine sense had not yet recovered. Pain lingered in her body like a memory that refused to fade. And yet… she felt something else.
She smelled home. The mortal world. The scent of soil and breath and living things. It felt close. So close that only a few feet seemed to separate her from it.
Impossible.
Heiyun's realm had been a pocket world. Bai's should have been the same, separate, sealed, removed.
Yet the scent lingered.
She stared into darkness and forced her thoughts to still. Yao had brought her here. Stopped her from erasing herself. Dragged her away from that final step.
Now there was nothing left to fight. The zeal to survive had drained out of her.
She would stop struggling. She would trust Yao and see where it led.
Her thoughts drifted home again. She dragged them back with deliberate cruelty. Her clothes were stiff with ichor. Time stretched. Hours passed in silence.
Then a door opened.
She did not react.
"Are you grieving Heiyun?"
Yao's voice was calm.
Grieving? Why would she grieve her oppressor?
Before Xīng could answer, Yao continued.
"Do you regret not informing Heiyun about Bai?"
The question struck deeper. Xīng had assumed Heiyun knew. They were both Transcendents. How could he not?
Had he truly not known?
"Did you think you were the only one being played?" Yao's voice tonation dropped. "The only one manipulated? Oppressed?"
Silence pressed against Xīng's ears.
"You're different," Yao said. "You were separated from the beginning. You related to power directly. You had more freedom than most. More resources. More opportunity."
A pause.
"And yet you dare blame the world?"
Xīng's fingers curled.
"Then what should the others have done?" Yao's voice cut like a blade. "Most of them are dead. Thousands are dead. Because you believed you could outsmart forces you barely understood."
The words landed heavier than any strike.
"I am disgusted," Yao said quietly. "Disappointed. To see you grieving yourself when you were the cause of their deaths."
Xīng's body stiffened.
Thousands dead. Because of her.
What right did she have to think of home? To wish for peace? She should have died with them.
Rage flared.
"You stopped me!" she shouted. "You wouldn't let me end it!"
A click of Yao's tongue.
The punch came without restraint.
Xīng's stomach collapsed. She flew backward, slamming into an unseen barrier, the boundary separating this realm from the mortal scent beyond.
Pain detonated through her body.
Conceptual pain. Yao was using her authority.
Xīng collapsed, blood spotting the floor. Before she could rise, fingers tangled in her hair.
"Do you think you deserve that peace?"
Her face smashed against the ground.
"You don't get to grieve. You don't get the peace of death. Not after killing Heiyun."
Cracks spidered across Xīng's skin. Restoration activated instinctively, trying to mend what was breaking. It failed.
The pain reached into her foundation. Into the definition of her being. The shape that made her her began to peel away.
Her body began to fracture at its core.
She was going to die.
She should have welcomed it.
But why like this? Why at Yao's hands?
Yao had served Heiyun for ages. Why had she believed Yao would choose her?
Yet Yao had nearly fought Bai for her.
Tears blurred the darkness she already could not see.
"Why are you grieving Heiyun?" Xīng whispered, the question slipping out.
Yao's grip tightened.
"Show respect when you say that name."
Pain exploded. Xīng's fingers began to crumble into dust.
Loyalty. Loss.
Yao had not struck her for Heiyun's sake alone. She had struck her because Xīng was trying to escape consequence.
"I'm sorry," Xīng said hoarsely. "I truly am. And… thank you."
Her voice trembled.
"I'm grateful I met you."
Silence.
Then the pressure lifted.
Yao withdrew her concept.
Xīng fell to the floor, broken but alive.
And she did not wish for death.