Hao Lou's body twisted in midair, but he couldn't stop the pull. The clouds below sucked him down like a hungry vortex, and suddenly everything got darker. Way darker.
The grey-white mist turned into a stormy mass of black thunderclouds, thick and heavy like wet wool. It was cold—unnaturally cold. His heart thudded.
Then came the first flash of lightning.
CRACK!
A bolt of blinding white light struck him straight in the gut—right where his dantian was.
"AHHHH!!" he screamed, his entire body jerking as if he'd been kicked by a divine beast.
But before the pain could fry his insides, the Soul Protection Jade in his sleeve lit up like a small sun. The energy surged out, surrounding his body in a thin, flickering barrier. The jade vibrated violently, absorbing the impact.
Still, he felt it—like someone had punched through his stomach and yanked out the air.
"Ughhh...!" he groaned, clutching his middle. "What the heck was that?!"
When he looked down at the jade, his stomach dropped. A thin crack had already formed across its surface.
"Oh no. No, no, no—don't you start breaking on me now!" he cried.
Another thunderbolt shot down from above.
BOOM!
It hit right over his left shoulder. Again, the jade barrier deflected the brunt of it, but the jade made an awful creaking sound like it was about to snap in half. More cracks formed, spiderwebbing out like dry earth.
Hao Lou's breathing sped up. He raised his hand, trying to cast a basic shield spell—but nothing happened.
Nothing.
He tried again, fingers moving through the air, drawing the runes. Still nothing.
"What the hell?!" he shouted. "Come on! Shield! Barrier! Anything!"
But his dantian didn't respond. It was like something had frozen it solid. No spiritual energy flowed. He couldn't even feel the usual thrum of power inside his core.
His face turned white. "Why isn't it working?! Why can't I—OH HEAVENS, WHAT IS THIS?!"
CRACKKK!
A smaller bolt hit his hand. His right hand.
His eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"AHHHHH! MY HANDSOME HAND!" he wailed, staring in horror as the skin on his finger turned a faint shade of grey, like he'd dipped it in ash.
"This is not okay! I moisturize! I have skin routines! Why is this happening?!"
Another bolt struck his left foot. He flailed, twisting in the air like a falling rag doll.
"NOT THE FOOT! I JUST GOT A CELESTIAL PEDICURE YESTERDAY!"
The Soul Protection Jade flared one more time, giving off a desperate shimmer as it shielded him from another blast.
But this time, the light didn't bounce back.
The jade made a high-pitched ping, then fractured down the center with a sharp crack. It glowed weakly, then crumbled into fine dust right there in his palm.
"No... NO! NOOO!" Hao Lou yelled as the dust slipped through his fingers and disappeared into the wind.
He didn't even have time to panic properly before a final, massive bolt of thunder roared from the heavens above.
BOOOOOOM!!
It came down like the wrath of the Heavenly Emperor himself—so bright it turned everything white for a second—and slammed him right on the top of the head.
"AAAAAHHHHH—!"
His hair frazzled. His ears rang. His arms flailed wildly. And for a brief second, his eyes rolled back.
His body fluttered to the mortal world like a falling petal.
*****
Hao Lou gasped and jolted upright, eyes wide, panting like he'd just run a thousand laps around the Celestial Palace. His hair was sticking out in every direction, half-singed and staticky, and his robes were a mess. For a second, he didn't even know where he was.
Darkness surrounded him. On both sides were tall, gloomy walls that stretched up so high he couldn't even see the top. The ground under him was slightly damp and smelled like old mold and human feet.
"Where… where am I?" he croaked, voice dry.
Then he looked down at his body. His heart nearly stopped.
His right hand—specifically, the second finger—was a pale, horrifying shade of ashy grey.
His left foot's toe? Also grey.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!" he shrieked, slapping both hands to his face. "My beautiful celestial body! No! This can't be! I've been… marred!"
He looked like someone had tried to turn him into a roast duck and gave up halfway.
"I am a divine beauty! A blessed blossom of heaven! Who… WHO is going to like me now?! With a CHARRED finger and a BURNT TOE?!"
"I'm a flower spirt for heavens sake.. who would admire him when his petals were singed..."
Flopping back down onto the slightly wet concrete, he spread his arms dramatically and smacked the ground a few times.
"This is a nightmare. A curse. A TRAGEDY!"
If Lin Yu had been here, Hao Lou was sure he'd already be laughing and saying something like, "Good, now your outside finally matches your inside: a hot mess."
But there was no Lin Yu.
Just him.
In the mortal world.
Alone.
"…Stupid monkey…" he mumbled, glaring up at the dark sky. "I hope you choke on those melon seeds."
With a big pout, he sat up, huddled into himself, and pulled his sleeve around his body. It was riddled with holes. So many holes.
It looked like someone had used his robe as target practice for fireworks.
He fumbled at his side, patting down his waist and inner robe.
Thankfully, his precious little pouch was still there, tied safely under a flap. Hao Lou let out a long, dramatic sigh of relief. "At least something's left on me…"
Quickly, he opened it up. Inside were a few of the spiritual pills he always carried—his emergency stash. Without thinking, he popped a spirit recovery pill into his mouth.
"Ahhh, thank goodness. Finally something normal—"
Blech!
The moment it touched his tongue, a weird buttery flavor spread across his mouth. Not the earthy bitterness of spirit medicine. Butter. Expired bitter butter.
"WHAT—what the actual HEAVENS is this?!"
He spat it out and stared in horror as the once-brilliant golden pill had turned into a weird mushy blob.
"What is happening to the world?! My pill has expired! This shouldn't happen! They're supposed to last three hundred years!"
Then realization hit him like another lightning bolt.
He looked down at the other pills. They were all the same—melted, cracked, dull.
"The thunder… That cursed eternal downfall spiral! It must've burned all the spiritual residue out of my pills!"
His hand trembled as he reached toward his abdomen.
"No… no no no no no—"
He closed his eyes and tried to sense his dantian.
Nothing.
No movement. No flow of energy. No gentle hum. It was like… like someone had wrapped it in ice and pressed pause on his entire spiritual life.
He opened his eyes and paled.
"Oh… oh my heavens. I'm a cripple," he whispered in horror.
"I'm a CRIPPLE!"
He staggered up to his feet, then immediately sat back down.
"I CAN'T EVEN CULTIVATE! I'M A USELESS BEING! THIS IS WORSE THAN BEING A CHICKEN!"
His voice cracked as he screamed into the night air:
"I DON'T WANT TO BE A MORTALLLLLLLLLL!"
Somewhere, a cat meowed back angrily, offended by the volume.