"There's someone alive in there," Wuying said.
Xin didn't speak at first. He just watched the faint shimmer where the probe had touched the barrier and been burned.
It was fading already, like it hadn't even happened. But something had changed.
"Then we go forward," he said after a moment. "But carefully."
They didn't rush. They didn't power up. Every move was measured. They kept their spiritual energy low, barely enough to wrap around their forms and tools.
The goal wasn't force—not yet. The goal was to feel the shape of the formation.
Xin floated closer to the hatch. He traced a circle in the air with his hand, fingers slow and steady.
The air around his fingertips hummed as a seal began to form—nothing aggressive, just a scanning pattern. The lines glowed dull red for a second before vanishing.
"It's holding," he said. "But it's not aggressive. It's more… tired."
Wuying tilted his head. "Tired?"
