Chapter 15
The man from the future was named Luo Ren.
He did not sleep the first night.
Shenping noticed it immediately. While Sang Sang rested beneath a hastily erected concealment seal, Luo Ren sat with his back against a tree, eyes open, breathing shallow, fingers twitching as if still gripping a weapon that no longer existed.
"You're waiting for something," Shenping said quietly.
Luo Ren gave a dry laugh. "Yeah. For the sky to light up and kill us."
Shenping crouched opposite him. The distorted space around his body settled instinctively, responding to his focus. "Tell me everything. From the moment you left."
Luo Ren swallowed and nodded.
"We were six," he began. "Resistance Unit Seven. Time-capable, low survivability. Our mission was reconnaissance only—trace the Archivist deployments back through causal leakage. We weren't supposed to engage."
He clenched his fists. "But then THE CORE updated."
Sang Sang stirred slightly but did not wake.
"It stopped prioritizing you," Luo Ren continued. "At least… not directly."
Shenping's eyes narrowed. "Then who?"
"Everyone else," Luo Ren said hoarsely. "Anyone who could ever choose you."
Shenping felt something cold settle in his chest.
"They started early," Luo Ren said. "Way earlier than projected. Subtle changes. People who should've resisted… didn't. Leaders turning cruel before they ever held power. Bloodlines bending toward obedience."
"Heaven," Shenping said.
"And cults," Luo Ren added. "And us."
Shenping looked at him sharply.
Luo Ren met his gaze. "They figured out how to poison loyalty before it forms. Not control—corruption. Make betrayal feel natural."
Sang Sang's silver glow flickered faintly.
Luo Ren noticed. His eyes softened. "You must be her."
She opened her eyes fully this time. "Sang Sang."
He nodded. "You don't exist in our records."
Shenping's jaw tightened. "Because they erased her."
"Or failed to," Luo Ren said quietly.
Silence followed.
At dawnless morning, Shenping made a decision.
"We're moving," he said. "The Severance Seal will only hide us once. I won't waste it on wandering."
Mo Yuan's lessons echoed in his mind. Fixed points invited knives.
They traveled toward the Black River Basin, a region infamous even in ancient maps. No major sects. No lasting villages. Too many disappearances. Too many rumors.
Perfect.
By the second day, Luo Ren began to weaken.
Time rejection.
His body belonged to the future, but the world did not recognize it as valid. Each hour, his movements slowed slightly, reactions desynchronizing by fractions of a second.
"You're unraveling," Sang Sang said softly.
He smiled tiredly. "Happens to all of us. Just faster for me."
Shenping studied him. "How long?"
"Maybe a week," Luo Ren replied. "If I'm lucky."
Shenping nodded once. "Then we'll use you before that."
Luo Ren laughed, sharp and honest. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me."
On the third night, they reached the river.
It was black not by color but by reflection. The sky mirrored on its surface looked deeper than it should, as if the water led somewhere else entirely. Shenping felt resistance the moment he approached.
Time did not flow cleanly here.
"This place is wrong," Sang Sang whispered.
"Yes," Shenping said. "Which means it hasn't been cleaned."
They crossed at a narrow point where stone arches jutted from the water like broken teeth. Halfway across, Shenping stopped.
He felt it.
Not pursuit.
Observation.
Luo Ren stiffened. "They're watching."
"No," Shenping corrected. "Someone else is."
The air thickened.
A ripple spread across the river's surface, and from it emerged figures—thin, pale, humanoid, their faces smooth and unfinished, like masks not yet carved.
Not machines.
Not cultivators.
"Proxies," Luo Ren breathed. "Early-gen."
They moved silently, stepping onto stone as if gravity barely applied.
Shenping stepped forward, space compressing around his feet. "Stay behind me."
One Proxy tilted its head.
Its mouth opened.
A sound poured out—not a scream, not speech, but layered whispers overlapping in dozens of voices.
Sang Sang cried out, clutching her head.
Shenping reacted instantly, erasing the sound before it fully existed. The whispers cut off mid-echo.
The Proxy staggered.
Luo Ren stared. "You erased… communication."
Shenping did not answer.
The Proxies attacked.
They moved erratically, actions slightly out of order, limbs flickering between positions as if sampling possible futures. Shenping met the first head-on, collapsing space inward and crushing its torso into nothing.
The second slipped past him.
Too fast.
It reached Sang Sang, fingers extending—
Luo Ren fired.
The weapon was crude by future standards, but its core burned with compressed time. The shot tore through the Proxy's shoulder, destabilizing its form.
The Proxy turned, confused.
Luo Ren didn't hesitate. He fired again.
The Proxy dissolved into static fragments that evaporated into the air.
The remaining figures hesitated.
Shenping seized the moment.
He stepped forward and erased the ground beneath them.
Not the stone—the concept of footing.
The Proxies fell without falling, suspended for an instant, then scattered into nonexistence.
Silence returned.
Luo Ren exhaled hard and lowered the weapon. "Ammo's gone."
Shenping nodded. "You did well."
Luo Ren winced suddenly, dropping to one knee. "No. I didn't."
His outline flickered.
Sang Sang rushed to him. "What's happening?"
"Temporal debt," Luo Ren gasped. "I interfered too much."
Shenping knelt, eyes focused.
Luo Ren looked up at him, urgency burning through the pain. "Listen. There's something you don't know."
"Talk," Shenping said.
"The reason they're afraid of you," Luo Ren said. "It's not just what you become."
His breath hitched. "It's what you inspire."
Shenping felt the truth of it before the words finished forming.
"In multiple futures," Luo Ren continued, "you die early. Brutally. And it doesn't stop the war."
Sang Sang's face drained of color.
"But in the timelines where you last longer," Luo Ren said, "people start choosing badly for the right reasons."
Shenping frowned. "Explain."
"They sacrifice themselves," Luo Ren said weakly. "Not because they're ordered to. Because they believe in you."
His body shook violently now.
"That scares the machines more than any weapon," Luo Ren whispered. "Because belief can't be predicted."
The flickering intensified.
Luo Ren's outline began to blur, edges dissolving into the air.
"Captain," he said softly, voice already echoing. "If you ever make it back… don't save us."
Shenping's eyes widened. "What?"
"End it," Luo Ren said. "Before we learn to live with it."
Then he smiled faintly.
"Tell the others… we tried."
His body unraveled completely, scattering into faint sparks that drifted upward and vanished.
Nothing remained.
Sang Sang sank to the ground, trembling.
Shenping stood motionless.
Something inside him shifted—not erased, not broken.
Sharpened.
He turned toward the river.
The water reflected not the sky—but countless branching futures.
Some burned.
Some froze.
One showed him standing alone at the end of time.
Shenping raised his hand.
He did not erase the vision.
He accepted it.
"Come," he said quietly to Sang Sang.
She looked up at him through tears. "Where?"
"Toward the place they're most afraid of," Shenping replied.
He stepped forward.
And time, unwilling and wounded, followed.