The Lotus Quarter was dying.
Cannons thundered without pause. Mortars sent arcs of flame over the rooftops. Musketeers fired from broken windows, matchcords hissing in the drifting ash. Grenade pots shattered against stone, spraying iron and fire in deadly blossoms.
And through the smoke, two armies pushed toward the same point.
Mine.
And Jin's.
My men broke through the final barricade with a roar. The Black Tigers surged ahead, blades raised. The Golden Dragons reloaded in disciplined rhythm, firing volleys into Zhou grenadiers trying to flank us. Shrapnel rained like metallic rain.
At the far end of the burning street, I saw him.
Jin.
Armor scorched, face streaked with soot and exhaustion, sword trembling in his grip.
He froze when he saw me.
Not with relief.
With horror.
"An…?" he whispered.
I stepped forward.
The smoke parted around me unnaturally, curling like it feared to touch my skin. Blood from earlier wounds no longer flowed; it darkened and dried too quickly. My footsteps left faint black prints on the stone, as if I carried the tower's shadow with me.
Jin took a step back.
Shen Yue dismounted behind me, rushing forward. "Jin! We're here to help—"
But Jin didn't look at her.
He couldn't look away from me.
"An… what have you become?"
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't know anymore.
A bullet struck my armor.
Metal splintered.
I didn't flinch.
Jin's eyes widened.
"An—!"
Another mortar shell detonated close enough to send half my men reeling.
I stood still.
The being inside me tightened, cold and certain—
never speaking,
never thinking,
just aligning my movements with a rhythm not meant for human bodies.
Jin raised his sword, half in fear, half in defense.
"Stop," he said. "Don't come closer. I don't know if you're still—"
His words died.
Because the ground beneath us shifted.
Not from artillery.
From the tower.
Inside the Lotus Hall, the air shimmered like heat over desert sand.
Cracks spiraled along the floor mosaics. The walls pulsed faintly, breathing in slow, unnatural rhythm. Candle flames bent sideways, as though drawn toward the tower's heart.
Wu Shuang stood perfectly still beside the Lord Protector.
Her expression was calm.
Too calm.
As if fear no longer applied to her.
As if she had stepped beyond it.
She placed her hand on the glowing stone pillar. Her pulse matched the tower's hum exactly. Light traced the veins in her wrist like molten silver.
"Father," she murmured, "it's close."
"Yes," he said softly, delighted. "The city is singing. Every death is a thread added to the pattern. Every cannon blast tightens the circle."
A distant rumble shook dust from the ceiling.
"What will they do," she asked, "when they realize there is no winning?"
He smiled.
"They will break. That is necessary."
"And the horrors?" she asked.
"They must have space to enter," he said. "And we must give them a city emptied of purpose."
Wu Shuang nodded, almost serene.
Almost reverent.
As if she were not a captive—
but a priestess.
Her gaze drifted toward the far wall, where the vibrations deepened.
"They're close," she whispered.
"Yes," the Lord Protector said. "This time, they will not be bound."
Back in the Lotus Quarter, Jin stumbled as the street buckled under him. Stone cracked in a jagged line, heat rising through the fissure.
"An… what is happening? What is he doing?!"
I lifted my eyes toward the tower.
Its glow had changed.
Before, it pulsed.
Now it spiraled.
A beam of faint light twisted upward, bending the air around it until rooftops warped, shadows lengthened, and walls curved subtly inward.
Shen Yue's fingers dug into my arm.
"An—look!"
Shapes flickered at the edges of sight.
Not ghosts.
Not soldiers.
Not human.
Shadows that bent the wrong way.
Contours that didn't belong to the buildings they touched.
A silhouette with no body.
A body with no shadow.
Jin turned pale.
"What are those—?"
"The new guests," I said quietly.
Jin stared at me, horrified.
"You're not afraid."
"I don't need to be."
He took a step back. "An… you sound like him."
Shen Yue flinched.
"Jin," she said urgently, "listen to me—An is still—"
But even she hesitated.
Because she didn't fully believe it.
Another tremor shattered the air.
The tower rang.
Not a bell.
A summon.
Light tore through the clouds above Ling An, forming a thin spiral, almost invisible in daylight—yet unmistakable to anyone who felt the ritual's pull.
Wu Shuang lifted her face toward it.
"They're coming," she whispered.
The Lord Protector closed his eyes in bliss.
"Let them."
Back in the burning street, Jin's breath hitched.
"An… we have to stop him. Father will destroy everything. I need you—"
"You don't need me," I said.
My voice was too calm.
My expression too still.
Something human missing from the space behind my eyes.
"You need an end."
Shen Yue grabbed my wrist again, desperate.
"An. Look at me. Please."
I looked at her.
Her fear reflected in my eyes.
Her love.
Her desperation.
But I felt nothing.
No warmth.
No ache.
Only alignment.
The being coiled within, silent but certain.
Jin whispered, "An…"
Another crack split the earth.
A second spiral of light rose.
And for the first time, horrors began to seep through the fractures — not fully formed, not attacking, just arriving.
The Lord Protector had opened the gate's threshold.
Jin drew his sword shaky but determined.
"An… if you stand with him—"
I took one slow step forward.
Jin stumbled back.
Shen Yue held her breath.
The horrors leaned closer.
The city bent.
And the ritual prepared for its next breath.