The training room was quiet, the only sound the soft click of Yue's shoes against the sleek, polished floors. Black stone walls, angular and modern, gleamed in the early morning light that filtered in through narrow windows. Sigils, glowing faintly with a pulse of energy, were embedded into the floor, their ancient power interwoven with the sharp technology of the room. The air was still, thick with the weight of expectation.
Liang Mei stood at the far side of the room, her silhouette sharp and still against the dim light. She didn't speak as Yue entered. Her presence alone was enough to draw Yue's focus, like the steady pull of gravity.
Yue felt the familiar chill of nerves crawl down her spine. The pressure was never far from her mind, not anymore. Every corner of the estate seemed to hold a whisper of what might come next. After the Summit, after the tensions of the night, Yue's heart thudded with an unfamiliar intensity. Every moment since the attack had been a reminder of her own fragility—and her family's expectation.
"Ready?" Liang Mei's voice cut through the silence, calm, almost clinical.
Yue nodded, swallowing down the unease that flickered in her chest. She wasn't ready. But she had to be. She wasn't going to be the one left behind, not again.
The drill was simple. Endurance. Precision. Speed.
It wasn't the first time she had trained in this room, but it was different now. Mei's eyes, sharp as knives, seemed to pierce through her, judging every movement, every breath. Yue could feel the weight of her sister's gaze, measuring her strength, her control. Every move was under scrutiny.
"Begin," Mei said.
Yue pushed herself forward, her body moving through the familiar motions: the blocks, the strikes, the fluidity that would have once come naturally. Her muscles burned, but she didn't stop. She couldn't. The heat of the exercise matched the heat in her veins, the frantic beating of her heart.
The room seemed to shrink around her, the sigils beneath her feet glowing brighter, pulsing in time with her movements. Mei's watchful eyes never left her, never blinked, as if Yue was nothing more than an experiment.
Her hands shook slightly as she dodged Mei's rapid strikes, but she forced herself to keep up, to push harder. She couldn't afford to falter. Not now. The world beyond these walls was changing, and she had to keep up with it.
But there was something off.
Each move felt heavier than the last, each step dragging her deeper into an unknown space. The sigils beneath her feet seemed to shift, almost as if they were reacting to her. The faint hum of their energy vibrated through the floor, the air growing thick, taut with something she couldn't name.
A misstep. A slip.
Her foot caught on the edge of a sigil, and suddenly the world around her distorted. A flash of light—a ripple in the air—and the floor beneath her shuddered. The sigil beneath her feet cracked, a sharp line splitting across the stone, as if the very space around her had bent and snapped like a taut wire.
The room fell into complete silence.
Yue froze, her chest heaving as she stared at the jagged crack in the floor. It wasn't supposed to be possible. The sigils were meant to be immutable, the magic contained. They were never meant to be broken. Yet here she was, her body still trembling, the crack in the sigil glowing faintly beneath her.
Liang Mei's eyes narrowed, her posture as still as the stone around them. But the flicker of surprise, the faintest twinge of alarm, was there in her eyes. She hid it quickly, though, masking it with the same cool detachment she always carried.
"You need to calm yourself," Mei said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of authority.
Yue's breath caught in her throat. "I didn't—" she began, but her voice faltered.
Mei was already approaching, her movements graceful, almost predatory. She didn't reach out to touch Yue, but her gaze fell to the shattered sigil, the crack still pulsing with a faint, unnatural energy.
"Relax," Mei said again, softer this time. Her voice held an edge of something sharp, something not quite comforting.
Yue opened her mouth to speak again, but no words came. She wanted to explain, wanted to understand what had just happened, but the feeling in her chest was too raw, too confusing.
"I don't know what I did," Yue whispered, her voice trembling.
Mei's gaze flicked to her, and for a moment, Yue saw something flicker behind her sister's cool composure. Worry, perhaps. Or something darker. But it was gone in the next heartbeat, replaced by that same unreadable calm.
"You did nothing wrong," Mei said. Her voice was like a stone sinking into water—quiet, but unyielding. "You are learning control. This is just another step in that process."
Yue's gaze drifted back down to the sigil. The crack still glowed faintly, the air around it warping ever so slightly.
Control. That was what they all wanted her to learn. Control of her power. Control of the Fourth Bloodline. But what if that power was too much for her to control? What if she couldn't keep it contained?
Yue's heart skipped a beat as the thought crossed her mind. What if she wasn't just a protector anymore? What if she was becoming the thing they all feared?
Mei placed a hand on her shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. "You'll be fine," she said, but there was something in her voice that told Yue it wasn't just a reassurance. "You just need time to understand what's happening inside you."
Yue nodded, but the cold weight of uncertainty settled deep inside her. She wasn't sure she was ready to understand it. The power that pulsed inside her, the bloodline that had always been both a gift and a curse, was growing stronger, more unpredictable. And with every passing day, it felt like she was slipping further and further away from control.
She was changing. She could feel it, deep in her bones. And with that change came a fear she couldn't quite shake.
She wasn't sure if she was ready for what came next.
But the world outside her family's walls was already shifting. There was no turning back.