The faint rumble of thunder faded, leaving behind a silence too still to be natural.
Ren's pulse slowed, but that uneasy chill—the one that had crept into the air after his dream—lingered like frost beneath his skin.
Li Wei stood from the bedside, his golden eyes flicking toward the open window. "Do you feel that?"
Ren nodded slowly. "It's… cold. But it's not the wind."
The curtains shifted, though there was no breeze. The candlelight dimmed until only the faint glow from Li Wei's aura lit the room. Then came a sound—a single note, low and resonant, like the chime of temple bells deep underwater.
A whisper followed it. Li Wei.
The voice wasn't Ren's. It came from beyond the veil of the night, smooth and sorrowful.
Li Wei's jaw tightened. "So," he said under his breath, "he finally wakes."
Ren's brow furrowed. "Who?"
But before Li Wei could answer, the air itself shimmered. A tall figure stepped out from the shadows beyond the threshold—barefoot, robes of deep silver flowing like water. His long white hair shimmered faintly, and his eyes—once gentle, now sharp as blades—fixed on Li Wei with a mix of reverence and resentment.
"Kyran," Li Wei said, his voice dropping an octave.
The newcomer's lips curved faintly. "You remember."
The tension between them filled the room, heavy and old. Ren felt it instantly—the faint thrum of recognition, though he'd never seen this man before. The mark on his chest burned faintly, reacting to the stranger's presence.
Kyran's gaze slid toward him, curious. "So this is the human," he murmured. "The one you tore heaven for."
Ren's breath caught. There was no hostility in Kyran's tone—only aching curiosity, and something colder beneath it.
Li Wei stepped protectively in front of Ren. "You shouldn't be here. The bond is none of your concern."
Kyran tilted his head. "None of my concern? I was your guardian once, Li Wei. I watched you fall. I begged the heavens to spare you." His eyes softened with something dangerously close to longing. "And now you stand here, mortal flesh wrapped around divinity, chained to a human who will die again."
Ren's heart twisted at the venom in those words, but he couldn't look away. Kyran's presence was both divine and tragic—like a ghost born from faith turned to bitterness.
Li Wei's scales flickered faintly beneath his skin, warning glints of gold along his collarbone. "Leave," he said, voice low, dangerous. "Before I make you."
Kyran smiled—a sad, knowing smile. "You won't. You never could strike me down."
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room for a heartbeat. And in that instant, Ren saw it—under the faint light of Li Wei's aura, a mark shimmered on Kyran's neck, glowing faintly with the same serpent sigil Ren bore on his shoulder.
A connection—ancient, buried—ran between all three of them.
The silence cracked, heavy with old promises and new danger.