Lightning clawed across the sky again, turning the temple ruins white-hot for a heartbeat.
Ren's knees hit the stone. The light that had flared from his chest a moment ago was dimming fast, flickering like a candle drowning in its own wax.
"Ren!" Li Wei caught him before he fell, the air around them still vibrating with power. The hunter was a blur beyond the smoke, circling, looking for a moment to strike.
Li Wei's hand trembled where it pressed against Ren's heart. He could feel the bond tearing, strands of power snapping one by one.
"Stay with me," he whispered.
Ren's lashes fluttered; his voice was barely a breath. "Don't… let him win."
The hunter moved—blade flashing. Li Wei shifted, his body covering Ren completely. The sword bit through his shoulder, and blood, darker than night, splattered across the stones.
Something inside Li Wei shattered.
The mark on his throat burned gold; scales rippled across his skin, climbing his neck, his jaw, his hands. Wind roared from the ground upward, swirling into a spiral that split the clouds.
"Li Wei—" Ren's weak voice reached him, but the serpent within was already awake.
The human guise broke apart. In its place rose the ancient god the heavens once feared—a serpent vast and luminous, its body coiled around the temple, eyes twin stars of divine fury.
The hunter's blade faltered mid-swing. He fell back, shielding his face from the storm.
Ren forced himself upright, legs trembling, staring up at the impossible creature that was still somehow his. The serpent's gaze turned downward—those firelit eyes softening when they met his.
The storm quieted. The air grew heavy with the scent of rain and ozone.
Ren reached out, his hand shaking. "You… remember me, don't you?"
The serpent lowered its head until the air itself seemed to bow. Its voice came as a whisper that trembled through every living thing:
> "Always."
Ren stumbled closer, pressing his palm against the cool scale. "Then listen—" His voice broke. "I remember, too. The vow. The one that damned us both."
Lightning traced the horizon; thunder answered like a heartbeat.
> "Then let us be damned together."
Li Wei's form folded inward, shrinking back until he was kneeling before Ren again, human, soaked, shaking. The storm faded to a slow rain that glittered against his skin.
Ren caught him, both of them falling to the ground. Their breaths mingled—one mortal, one divine.
Above them, the clouds parted just enough for the moon to look down, pale and silent, on the god and the boy bound by the same sin and the same love.
And as the rain washed away the blood between them, the world shifted—
the next arc waiting quietly beyond the dawn.