The fox adjusted the head carefully into place.
The spiritual stitching held—for now.
But flesh alone would never be enough.
She reached once more into the small pouch hanging from her neck.
This time, when her hand emerged, it held something far more delicate.
A spool of dark filament, silver-sheened and impossibly fine.
It shimmered faintly in the lantern light.
Cold.
Dense.
Heavy with Yin energy.
"Yin Thread," she murmured softly.
A faint smile curved her lips.
"This will be perfect."
Unlike ordinary control lines, Yin Thread did not merely bind flesh.
It seeped into meridians.
Wrapped itself around fractured spiritual pathways.
Anchored to lingering death energy.
It did not command from the outside.
It infiltrated from within.
Ideal for corpse puppetry.
She rose to her feet—then paused.
Her form shimmered.
The medicinal pill she had taken earlier still retained a residual transformative effect. She guided that remaining energy through her meridians with deliberate care, circulating it along precise internal routes.
Her fox form blurred—
Shrinking.
Reshaping.
Fur receding.
Limbs elongating.
Bone structure adjusting with subtle, fluid shifts.
Until she stood once more in her human form.
Long hair cascaded over her shoulders like a dark waterfall.
Turquoise eyes sharp and luminous beneath the lantern glow.
Delicate fingers flexed as she tested their dexterity.
"Yes," she said softly.
"This will require precision."
Human hands were far better suited for threading such fine material.
She knelt beside the headless corpse again and unspooled a thin strand of Yin Thread between her fingers.
It hummed faintly with cold spiritual resonance.
She pressed the tip of the thread against the seam where neck met flesh.
It slipped inward as if alive.
Sinking beneath the skin.
Sliding along torn meridians.
Wrapping around broken spiritual channels.
Reinforcing her earlier stitching from the inside out.
"Reattach the head… stabilize the core pathways… then implant control."
Her voice was calm.
Measured.
Practiced.
She worked with meticulous care, feeding the Yin Thread through the body's meridians like a master seamstress weaving silk through rare cloth.
Each pass tightened her authority.
Each loop strengthened structural integrity.
Each knot reduced instability.
The corpse twitched once.
Then stilled.
The second body lay nearby, waiting.
That one would require less physical reconstruction—
But deeper binding.
Her turquoise eyes gleamed faintly.
"With this," she murmured, lifting the spool slightly, "you won't break so easily next time."
Behind her, the child continued sleeping peacefully.
Little White remained curled in her arms.
Silent.
But aware.
The fox tied off the first internal knot of Yin Thread deep within the spine.
The corpse's fingers twitched again.
This time—
In response to her will.
The twitch did not fade.
The corpse's fingers curled slowly inward—
Then relaxed.
Not random.
Not residual nerve discharge.
Directed.
The fox's lips curved faintly.
"Good."
She pressed two fingers lightly against the corpse's forehead.
Turquoise light pulsed once.
The Yin Thread embedded within responded, tightening along the spine and anchoring firmly at the base of the skull where she had reattached the head.
A faint cracking sound echoed as bone sealed more securely into place.
The seam beneath the skin smoothed.
Not flawless—
But functional.
She drew another length of Yin Thread from the spool and began weaving it deeper, guiding it carefully through the torso.
Through the hollowed heart cavity.
Around the dantian.
Empty now—
But still the body's natural spiritual nexus.
"Without a core, you will rely on mine," she murmured.
She inserted a thin spiritual imprint—her mark—into the hollow center.
A command anchor.
Absolute.
The corpse's eyes snapped open.
Dull.
Lifeless.
Yet focused.
Awaiting instruction.
The fox did not look up.
"Stand."
The body moved.
Slowly at first—
Then more steadily.
It rose from the floor, head tilting slightly as the neck adjusted to the new attachment, recalibrating balance.
Functional.
She nodded once.
"Acceptable."
Now, the second one.
She turned to the intact corpse.
This one required no physical reconstruction.
But its spiritual resistance lingered faintly.
Residual instinct clung stubbornly to its meridians.
She pressed her palm to its chest.
The Yin Thread slipped beneath the skin like cold mist.
Colder this time.
More invasive.
The body jerked violently.
A faint growl escaped its throat—
Then cut off abruptly as the thread wrapped tightly around its internal pathways.
The fox's eyes sharpened.
"Be still."
Her will descended like invisible pressure.
The thread constricted.
The growl died completely.
She threaded the filament through the spine.
Across the limbs.
Into the skull.
Then formed a control knot just behind the eyes.
The corpse's gaze cleared—
Not with life.
But with obedience.
"Rise."
It stood.
More smoothly than the first.
Less recalibration required.
She stepped back, observing both of them.
Two puppets.
One reconstructed.
One reinforced.
Bound by Yin Thread.
Linked directly to her.
She flexed her fingers slightly.
Both corpses bowed in unison.
Perfect synchronization.
Her smile deepened.
"This will suffice."
Behind her, the bed creaked softly.
The child shifted in her sleep.
Little White remained coiled in her arms.
Silent.
Watching.
The fox's eyes flicked briefly toward him.
"You see?" she said softly.
"In this world, strength isn't only about power."
She turned back to her creations.
"It's about preparation."
The formation disk continued humming faintly overhead.
The soundproof talisman held steady.
And inside the sealed room—
Two lifeless soldiers now waited for her command.
The fox extended her spiritual sense further.
Surface-level control was insufficient.
She required deeper stability.
She raised her hand slowly.
The two puppets mirrored the motion with mechanical precision.
Left arm up.
Pause.
Lower.
Turn.
Kneel.
Stand.
No delay.
No resistance.
Her turquoise eyes glowed brighter for a brief moment as she tested layered commands.
"Step forward."
They moved in perfect alignment.
"Stop."
Immediate compliance.
"Draw weapon."
The intact puppet's hand reached automatically toward its waist—though no weapon rested there. Muscle memory still lingered within the flesh.
Interesting.
Residual imprints might prove useful.
The head-reattached one tilted slightly, neck adjusting again as if recalibrating its center of gravity.
The seam held.
Good.
She narrowed her eyes and pushed a sharper strand of will through the Yin bindings.
The corpses stiffened—
Then dropped to one knee in perfect unison.
Absolute dominance confirmed.
The fox exhaled slowly.
"Acceptable for now."
She walked closer to the reconstructed puppet and examined the neck seam again. A faint pale line remained where flesh had fused.
She pressed her finger lightly against it.
The Yin Thread beneath responded instantly, tightening and reinforcing the internal structure.
No risk of sudden separation.
"Next," she murmured softly, "energy efficiency."
She closed her eyes briefly and rerouted the control pathways. Instead of continuously feeding them spiritual power, she adjusted the system into a dormant state.
Idle.
Minimal drain.
Activation only upon command.
The pressure within the room eased.
The puppets' movements slowed—
Then ceased entirely.
They stood like statues.
Still.
Waiting.
Behind her, soft breathing filled the silence.
The child slept soundly, one hand still tangled in Little White's scales.
The lizard's golden eyes were open now.
Watching.
Silent.
The fox turned her head slightly toward him.
"You're awake."
No accusation.
Only acknowledgment.
Her gaze drifted to the child holding him.
"She seems to have claimed you."
Her lips curved faintly again.
"Unlike these two, you move because you choose to."
A subtle distinction.
Important.
She gestured lightly with her fingers.
The two puppets stepped backward and positioned themselves against the wall, motionless—like ordinary corpsps propped upright.
Hidden in plain sight.
Prepared.
The fox brushed imaginary dust from her sleeve.
"Tomorrow," she said calmly, "we gather information."
Her eyes flicked toward the sealed door.
"Whoever controls this place may not be willing to stop easily."
The formation disk hummed softly overhead.
The Yin Thread glimmered faintly beneath lifeless skin.
The child shifted again, murmuring sleepily.
"White…"
The room returned to stillness.
But now—
It was no longer the stillness of aftermath.
It was the stillness of preparation.