Mei Ling's fingers dug into the damp earth as she knelt before the unmarked grave. The scent of wet soil and burnt herbs filled her nostrils, a far cry from the perfumed halls of the Heavenly Sword Sect. She had buried what remained of her fallen brothers and sisters with her own hands—those she could find, at least. The rest were ash.
Her once-pristine white robes were now stained brown with mud and blood, the fabric torn where branches had lashed at her during her frantic escape. The sword at her hip—a common iron blade stolen from a blacksmith's shop—felt heavy and unfamiliar.
"I will kill him."
The words left her lips like a prayer. A vow.
But first, she needed power.
The Hidden Sect
Three weeks of wandering brought her to the foot of the Bleeding Peaks, where jagged cliffs loomed like broken teeth against the sky. Legends spoke of a sect that dwelled here—one that trained not in righteous sword arts, but in the forbidden techniques of blood and shadow.
The Crimson Veil Sect.
Mei Ling's knees trembled as she climbed the final steps to the stone archway. Two figures materialized from the mist, their faces obscured by red lacquered masks.
"You reek of death, little mouse," the taller one observed.
"And desperation," the other added.
Mei Ling lifted her chin. "I seek the Blood Lotus Manual."
A pause. Then laughter—cold and sharp.
"Many seek it," the first figure said. "Few survive the asking."
Mei Ling reached into her sleeve and produced the only thing of value she still possessed: the jade pendant that had once belonged to Sect Master Luo Zheng. The one he'd given her on her sixteenth birthday.
"I will pay any price."
The masked figures exchanged glances. Then, with a gesture, the gates creaked open.
The Empire's Gambit
The facility hummed with sterile white light. Rows upon rows of glass tanks lined the walls, each containing a floating figure—some human, some... less so.
Grand Elder Hong (or the thing that had once been Hong) strode down the central aisle, his footsteps echoing on polished metal. The other agents—all identical in feature and form—followed in perfect synchronization.
*"Sigma-9 continues to deviate,"* Hong reported to the figure on the viewing platform above. "His emotional contamination progresses faster than anticipated."
The Overseer—a towering silhouette wreathed in holographic data streams—tilted its head. "And the girl?"
"Inconsequential. She seeks power from the Crimson Veil, but even their arts are primitive compared to our—"
"You underestimate the human factor," the Overseer interrupted. "That 'girl' is now the only living soul who carries the Heavenly Sword Sect's legacy. That makes her dangerous."
A flick of its wrist, and a new image appeared—a map with two pulsing dots. One red (Luo Tian). One blue (Mei Ling).
"Let them both grow stronger," the Overseer decided. "Let them think themselves free. Then, when the time is right..."
The dots converged.
"...we harvest them both."
Luo Tian's Dream
The smell of blood filled Luo Tian's nostrils as he jerked awake, his body drenched in cold sweat.
Another nightmare.
The same one that had plagued him for weeks now: the Abyss Gorge, the metallic sphere embedding itself in his chest, the voice whispering [YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN]—but this time, something was different. This time, he'd seen faces in the darkness.
People in strange robes, standing before rows of glass tanks.
People with his face floating inside them.
"Echo," he growled, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples. "What aren't you telling me?"
Silence.
Then, for the first time, the nanomachines hesitated before responding.
[ACCESSING RESTRICTED MEMORY BANKS...]
[ERROR: UNAUTHORIZED.]
Luo Tian's blood ran cold.
Since when did Echo have restrictions?