They did not speak for a long time.
The grass beneath them was damp with early mist, cold seeping through Liuxue's clothes as the adrenaline slowly drained from her body. Her limbs felt heavy, as though the ground itself were trying to claim her.
Above them, the sky was unfamiliar. The constellations were wrong. Subtle shifts, but unmistakable to someone who had grown up tracing the stars for comfort.
Yining was the first to sit up, rubbing dirt from her hands. "Please tell me we are still on the same continent."
The Starborn man rose slowly, eyes scanning the horizon. "Barely."
Liuxue pushed herself upright, wincing as her seal flared briefly, then settled. "Where are we?"
"Borderlands," he said. "A place the heavens do not watch closely."
"That sounds intentional," Yining muttered.
"It is," he agreed.
Liuxue stared at the distant hills, their shapes blurred by mist. There was a heaviness here. Not oppressive, but aware. Like land that had seen too much and learned to keep its silence.
Her earlier words echoed between her and the Starborn man.
You sealed me.
The accusation still hung in the air, unaddressed and raw.
"Why here?" Liuxue asked.
"Because no realm claims it," he replied. "And because it is old enough to remember what the heavens would rather forget."
Yining glanced between them. "You two are going to have that conversation now, right? Or do I need to pretend I cannot hear?"
The Starborn man exhaled slowly. "Not yet."
Liuxue's jaw tightened. "You keep saying that."
"And you keep surviving long enough to ask again," he said quietly. "Which is more than I once hoped for."
The words unsettled her more than anger would have.
They began to walk.
The terrain shifted from grass to cracked stone, old roads half buried beneath moss and dirt. Broken markers lined the path, their inscriptions worn smooth by time.
Liuxue paused beside one, brushing her fingers over its surface.
She felt it immediately.
A pulse.
Recognition.
Her seal warmed.
"This was once a city," she said.
The Starborn man stopped short. "How do you know?"
"Because I remember the silence after it fell," she replied, voice distant.
Yining shivered. "You said you did not remember anything."
"I do not remember clearly," Liuxue said. "But my body does."
They continued in uneasy quiet.
As the sun climbed higher, they reached the remains of a gate. Half collapsed, its arches twisted and blackened as if scorched by unnatural fire.
The Starborn man's expression darkened. "We should not linger here."
Liuxue stepped closer to the gate, heart pounding. The air hummed softly, vibrating against her skin.
"This place was destroyed," she said. "But not by war."
"By judgment," he corrected.
She turned sharply. "Whose?"
He met her gaze, something heavy and old reflected there. "The heavens."
Yining cursed under her breath.
Liuxue's chest tightened painfully. "Did I order it?"
Silence.
Her breath stuttered. "Answer me."
"No," he said finally. "You opposed it."
Her knees nearly buckled.
"Then why does my echo speak as if I were a tyrant?" she whispered.
"Because history is written by those who survived your refusal," he said.
Anger flared, hot and sharp. "You let them twist me."
His voice broke. "I was not strong enough to stop them."
The honesty hit harder than any excuse.
The air around them shifted suddenly.
A ripple passed through the ruins, subtle but unmistakable.
The Starborn man spun, hand already glowing with starfire. "We are not alone."
From the shadows of the broken gate, figures emerged.
Not soldiers.
Not spirits.
Observers.
They wore long pale robes, faces obscured by masks etched with unfamiliar symbols. Their presence pressed against Liuxue's senses, probing, assessing.
One stepped forward.
"Confirmed," it said, voice echoing hollowly behind the mask. "The echo has synchronized."
Yining moved protectively in front of Liuxue. "You do not get to talk about her like that."
The masked figure ignored her.
"It is early," another said. "The seal remains active."
The Starborn man's voice turned cold. "You have no authority here."
The first figure tilted its head. "We have authority wherever divine property is concerned."
Liuxue stiffened. "Property?"
The masked figure finally looked at her directly.
"You were never meant to wake again," it said calmly. "Your refusal destabilizes more than just yourself."
Her seal burned, but she did not cry out.
"What do you want?" Liuxue asked.
"To observe," it replied. "And when the time comes, to correct."
Yining's grip tightened on her blade. "You will not touch her."
The masked figure regarded Yining with mild curiosity. "Mortal attachment noted."
Then it turned back to Liuxue.
"You cannot outrun the conclusion," it said. "Every path you walk leads back to judgment."
The Starborn man stepped closer to Liuxue, standing at her side.
"Then she will walk it on her own terms," he said.
For a moment, tension stretched so tight it felt like the air might shatter.
Then the masked figures stepped back.
"Very well," the first said. "We will watch."
Their forms dissolved into light, fading into nothingness.
Silence returned.
Liuxue exhaled shakily.
"They are not done," she said.
"No," the Starborn man agreed. "They never are."
She looked at him, resolve hardening in her chest.
"Then you owe me the truth," she said. "Not later. Not someday. Soon."
He nodded slowly.
"You are right," he said. "And when I tell you, it will change everything you think you are fighting for."
Liuxue looked back at the ruins, at the silent land scarred by divine judgment.
"Then I should know," she said quietly, "what kind of war I am walking into."
The wind stirred, carrying with it the distant echo of a name the heavens still refused to forget.