The further they ran, the more the mountain changed.
The mist thinned into streaks of pale blue light clinging to the ground like veins. The air hummed with a low, trembling vibration, not dangerous, but insistent, as though something beneath the surface was struggling to be heard.
Ji Ming slowed. "This isn't normal terrain."
"No," Sol whispered. "It's a ley line waking."
Ya Zhen clicked her tongue. "Great. The land is waking up and the Empire is hunting us. I miss the days when tea was my biggest problem."
Ji Ming pointed ahead. "Down there… a split in the ridge."
The path dipped suddenly, disappearing into a dark, narrow passage where stone walls pressed so closely together that two people could barely stand side by side.
Sol hesitated. "This wasn't here before."
"That's the point," Ji Ming said. "It's a fault line. The mountain opened it recently."
"Because of resonance," Sol murmured.
"Or because something is trying to get to you," Ya Zhen added.
Either way, they had no time to debate.
The sound of boots, precise, heavy, metallic, echoed across the upper ledges.
Mirror Division troops.
"Move," Ji Ming ordered, voice low.
They slipped into the narrow passage.
The air inside was cold enough to sting. The walls pulsed faintly with streaks of light, soft threads of qi running along the stone like luminous seams.
Sol brushed her fingers along the nearest line.
It thrummed under her touch.
"This is a ley channel," she whispered. "Direct conduit."
Ya Zhen frowned. "Conduit for what?"
"Memory," Sol said. "Emotion. Intent."
Ji Ming took her hand firmly. "Then don't touch it alone."
His tone wasn't harsh… but it was tight, controlled.
Sol nodded.
They moved deeper, walls pressing closer, the air thick with the hum of buried energy.
Faint echoes began to whisper through the stone, half-formed memories from other times:
Weapons clashing.
Footsteps running.
Low voices chanting.
A scream swallowed by the earth.
Ya Zhen shivered. "Tell me that was wind."
"It wasn't wind," Sol said quietly.
In the distance, the sound of metal striking rock echoed… a sharp, jarring crack.
Ji Ming stopped instantly. "That's a saber strike."
"Yours?" Ya Zhen asked.
"No," Ji Ming said. "Imperial alloy. They've found the outer wall."
A second strike rang, sharper than the first.
"They're trying to break through," Ji Ming said.
Sol's heartbeat quickened. "Then the mountain will react."
As if on cue, a tremor shook the passage.
Dust rained down from the ceiling. The ley lines brightened until they glowed like molten threads.
Ji Ming pulled Sol close. "Stay with me."
The tremor deepened into a low growl that rolled through the stone, not violent, but protective.
Then the walls ahead of them… shifted.
Not opening this time.
Closing.
Fast.
"Run!" Ya Zhen snapped.
They sprinted, the passage sealing behind them with each step, stone sliding into place like a jaw closing shut.
Sol felt the mountain's urgency.
"It's blocking the Empire," she gasped.
Ji Ming nodded once. "And forcing us forward."
The last gap sealed just behind Ya Zhen's heels.
They stumbled into an open cavern, a hollowed-out chamber lit by the intertwining veins of qi overhead. The air vibrated, alive, like a heart beating inside the mountainside.
Sol looked up.
The ley lines converged in the center of the ceiling… then descended like threads of light, suspended in the air.
A woven sphere hung there, a delicate construct of luminous strands shifting in a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Ya Zhen breathed out. "…What is that?"
"A resonance cradle," Sol whispered. "I've only ever read about them."
Ji Ming frowned. "Explain."
She stepped closer, her voice hushed with awe.
"Long ago, when cultivators feared their own reflections, they built these to train young disciples in listening without speaking. Feeling without fear."
Ya Zhen arched a brow. "And why does it look like it wants to eat us?"
Sol almost smiled. "It doesn't eat. It reveals."
The sphere of light pulsed once… twice… then drifted lower, responding to her closeness.
Ji Ming immediately moved between Sol and the construct. "Careful."
But the cradle wasn't hostile.
It brushed gently against Ji Ming's blade and recoiled… not from the steel, but from the anger woven into it.
Then it drifted toward Sol again… soft as breath.
"Let it," Sol whispered.
Ji Ming didn't like it. He didn't hide that.
But he lowered his blade.
The cradle sank until it hovered just above Sol's chest.
Then it expanded.
Light spiraled outward, not blinding, but encompassing. The cavern seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sphere of resonance and the three of them suspended in its glow.
Memories flooded the air, not clear visions, but emotional imprints.
Fear.
Grief.
Longing.
Hope.
The cradle pulsed once more… and split its light into three streams.
One touched Sol's heart.
One touched Ji Ming's.
One touched Ya Zhen's.
Then, like a voice forming out of silence, the cradle released a single word, not through sound, but through feeling.
Choose.
Sol gasped.
Ji Ming stiffened.
Ya Zhen's fan dropped an inch.
The cradle pulsed again — Choose. —then dimmed, its threads unraveling, dissolving into tiny motes of light that spiraled upward into the ley lines like fireflies returning to their home.
When the cavern reformed around them, the silence felt heavier than before.
Ji Ming spoke first.
"What does it mean?"
Sol shook her head. "I don't know."
Ya Zhen sighed sharply. "I do."
They both turned.
She closed her fan gently, her expression more serious than either had seen in days.
"That cradle belongs to the old sects. It tests the alignment of a path. It shows whether a group moves in harmony or fracture."
Sol's breath hitched. "And it told us to choose."
Ji Ming's voice was low. "Choose what?"
Ya Zhen adjusted her hairpins, a small, steadying gesture.
"Whether we walk this path together… or whether one of us becomes the break in it."
Silence fell like a blade.
Then—
A horn blast thundered on the ridge above… louder, sharper.
The Empire was close.
Ji Ming turned sharply. "We have to move. Now."
Sol took one last look at the ley cradle's fading glow, a cold realization settling in her chest.
The cradle wasn't warning them about the Empire.
It was warning them about themselves.