The restricted sub-hall of the Forbidden Library did not feel like a place meant for the living.
It felt like a tomb.
Air hung thick with the scent of ancient vellum and residual essence—dry, acrid, whisper-laden. Each breath brushed the lungs like inhaling powdered bone. Faint threads of dread drifted through the chamber, grazing skin like spider silk.
The walls rose high in tiers of black stone, lined with sealed tomes bound behind flickering ward lattices. The sigils pulsed irregularly—like strained heartbeats struggling to contain what slumbered within.
Dust motes floated through dim light.
But these were no ordinary motes.
Each carried an echo.
A distant scream.
A sigh of despair.
The rustle of something vast… turning in its sleep beyond the Veil.
---
The elite cohort entered in silence.
Twenty Awakened—each dangerous, each proud—now subdued by the oppressive sanctity of forbidden knowledge.
Seats formed a semicircle around a central obsidian podium carved with fractured Chain glyphs.
Xia Ying chose the second row.
Visible enough to engage.
Shadowed enough to observe.
---
Instructor Vale stood waiting.
Tall. Lean.
Still as a blade sheathed in darkness.
His eyes never focused the same way twice—each iris subtly tracking different vectors of perception. His Dominion made the air around him feel… examined.
Today his black robes bore faint embroidered fragments of Ascension Chains.
Subtle.
But intentional.
A reminder:
He studied power others feared to name.
---
"Today," Vale began, voice low and resonant, "we approach what the Bureau seals."
A holographic array ignited above the podium.
Fragmented silhouettes formed—twenty-two towering figures woven from living terror essence.
The **Originals**.
Godlike.
Fractured.
Their forms splintered into radiant shards, straining against the Veil they themselves had forged.
"The Official History claims the Originals created the Curse to imprison nightmares beyond the Veil," Vale continued.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Convenient."
"Sanitized."
He gestured.
The array rotated slowly.
"The truth is older."
"The Originals were not jailers."
"They were prisoners."
Murmurs rippled.
"They sought apotheosis—transcendence beyond terror itself. But in reaching beyond the Veil… they shattered."
One silhouette lingered at the center—cloaked in endless shadow, crowned with despair.
Its presence bent the light.
"Their essences fragmented. Modern Dominions are echoes of those fragments."
He paused.
"Pale borrowings."
---
Zuo Flameheart leaned forward eagerly.
"My clan's Flame Dominion carries a pure echo," he said. "Lineage from the Blazing Original."
Vale's gaze flicked to him.
"Lineage is a chain, young Flameheart."
A beat.
"Echoes are not inherited."
"They awaken."
---
Xia Ying raised his hand.
Calm.
Measured.
"Instructor—if a Divine-grade echo manifests… does the Veil resist it?"
Vale's attention locked onto him instantly.
A subtle perception probe brushed Xia Ying's aura—
—and slid off like mist against obsidian.
"Resistance comes first," Vale said slowly. "Backlash. Inversion. Dissolution."
He stepped closer.
"But amplification follows."
"For those who conceal wisely… the echo grows louder."
A pause.
"The abyss begins to speak back."
The hall stilled.
"Sometimes," Vale added softly, "it calls the bearer by name."
---
Xia Ying's eyes darkened slightly.
"And concealment?" he pressed. "Can recognition be delayed… until the bearer commands the echo fully?"
Vale smiled.
Genuine this time.
"Time," he said, "is the deepest chain."
"Concealment buys it."
"But echoes hunger."
"They whisper to the Veil."
"And the Veil…"
His gaze sharpened infinitesimally.
"Listens."
---
He senses the outline, Xia Ying thought.
But not the depth.
Let him chase whispers.
The Divine Dominion is no echo.
It is the source reborn.
When the Veil screams…
It will kneel.
---
The lecture concluded with assigned sealed excerpts.
Vale personally handed several out.
When Xia Ying received his, their fingers brushed briefly.
Vale's perception flared—
Testing.
Weighing.
Then withdrew.
---
### Library Alcoves — Project Preparations
Students dispersed into shadowed study recesses.
Presentations loomed tomorrow.
Rankings would shift.
Reputations would crystallize.
Xia Ying's subgroup gathered in a dim corner—scrolls, slates, and clan records spread across the table.
Focus: reconstructing parallels between the shattered **Flame Ascension Chain** and modern nightmare embodiments.
Zuo arrived tense.
Clan texts clutched tightly.
Doubt had eroded him.
Subtly.
Relentlessly.
"I refined the comparative structure," Xia Ying said, sliding forward the master slate. "Integrated flame inversion theory with shadow absorption parallels."
The others leaned in immediately.
"This flows perfectly."
"The embodiment breakdown is brilliant."
"Who wrote the inversion analysis?"
Xia Ying inclined his head.
"Collaborative. Though restricted notes helped."
Zuo scanned the draft.
His jaw tightened.
His work remained—
—but reduced.
Supportive.
Peripheral.
Xia Ying's analysis dominated the core thesis.
"We should vote on presenter order," one member said.
Agreement came quickly.
"Xia Ying leads."
Unanimous.
Zuo said nothing.
But the heat radiating from him thickened the air.
"This is my clan's legacy," he hissed as the meeting ended.
"Credit reflects contribution," Xia Ying replied softly.
Zuo stormed out.
Resentment trailed behind him—
A rich, simmering harvest.
---
### Evening — Secluded Training Courtyard
Storm clouds churned beyond the ward dome.
The courtyard lay carved into volcanic rock—scarred by countless unsanctioned duels.
Xia Ying sensed the ambush before it emerged.
Heavy footsteps.
Aggressive aura.
Kai Boulderfist.
Stone-skin Dominion.
Mid-tier brute.
Kai blocked the exit, flanked by two hesitant lackeys.
Onlookers gathered along ledges—drawn by rumor.
"Think you're untouchable?" Kai growled. "Shadow rat hiding behind healers."
Granite spread across his skin.
The ground trembled as he advanced.
Xia Ying didn't move.
"Strength is one path," he said calmly. "Why choose it tonight?"
Kai roared and charged.
A meteor punch descended.
Xia Ying sidestepped effortlessly—shadow tendrils guiding his movement unseen.
But combat wasn't the objective.
Harvest was.
He released **Dread Projection**.
Focused.
Personalized.
---
The world shifted—
For Kai alone.
Before him stood a colossal stone version of himself.
Cracked.
Fissured.
Essence leaking like molten blood.
The statue-self crumbled slowly.
Clan elders turned away in disgust.
Lackeys laughed.
Cohort whispered:
"Weak."
"Brittle."
"Forgotten."
The nightmare spoke in Kai's own voice.
Kai felt it—
His stone skin cracking.
Flaking.
Failing.
He screamed.
Swinging wildly.
"No—GET BACK!"
Fists shattered the ground.
He collapsed, sobbing, clawing at phantom fractures.
The illusion lasted seconds.
But it was enough.
Kai curled into himself—
Mind fractured.
---
Onlookers whispered in horror.
"No one touched him…"
"He just broke…"
Xia Ying approached with feigned concern.
"Kai? What happened?"
He helped him up, guiding him toward the infirmary.
All while harvesting the terror flooding outward.
Thick.
Primal.
Exquisite.
Dread Projection pulsed stronger in response.
It tastes the soul directly, Xia Ying thought.
Soon illusions won't fade.
They'll command.
---
### Dormitory — Late Night
Zuo was absent.
A note lay on Xia Ying's desk:
**"This isn't over. Watch your shadows."**
Lin Mei knocked soon after.
Eyes bright with admiration.
"You'll do amazing tomorrow."
She lingered—gratitude binding tighter.
When she left, Wei Jun emerged from darkness.
"Kai's breakdown—too convenient," he said. "People notice patterns now. 'Flawless' is becoming frightening."
Xia Ying nodded.
"Fear guides perception."
Wei Jun smirked faintly.
"Just don't let it guide execution."
Alliance deepened.
---
### Midnight — Window Overlooking the Veil
Xia Ying refined the day's harvest:
Zuo's resentment.
Lin Mei's devotion.
Kai's terror.
Vale's suspicion.
All compressed into his core.
Refining.
Deepening.
Evolving.
Dread Projection sharpened.
Veil whispers grew clearer.
He stood at the window as volcanic glow painted the horizon crimson.
Tonight…
The island's dread felt articulate.
Almost language.
The Veil remembers, he thought.
Let it whisper.
When it screams my name—
I'll be ready…
To answer.