Shinju's fingertips trembled.
Not from fear… but from the clash of two worlds inside him, unable to agree on what he should become.
"So…" he murmured.
"To gain Yang energy… I should think of creating, not destroying."
Hearing his own voice, he stared into the void for a moment.
For years in the emptiness, the only things he heard were rage, curses, and silence.
Now, for the first time… something like hope passed through him—fragile, like a faint whisper.
Aurelia lifted her head and fixed her eyes on him.
Her voice was gentle, but brutally honest:
> "Exactly. And remember… the Yang inside you is far stronger than your Yin. But you suppress it. Because you still believe the darkness defines you."
Her words hit Shinju's mind like an arrow.
Does the darkness define me?
What am I, really? Something born of the void… or still human?
His eyes dropped to the ground.
He watched the thin cracks between the broken stones;
they looked like the cracks inside his own soul.
Aurelia asked, "Shinju… how did you use Yin for the first time?"
Shinju took a slow breath.
"The first time I used the essence of the void…" he said, his voice lowering.
"I wanted to destroy my uncle."
His chest tightened the moment he said it.
"I wanted to tear him apart… to erase him," he added.
Koharu's breath caught.
Even Swen looked away.
But Shinju didn't stop.
The hardness in his tone softened, turning into a naked confession.
> "I… wanted to kill my uncle because… everyone was dead."
No one interrupted.
> "My mother… my father… my friends," he said, short breaths slipping between the words.
"All of them were lying there… lifeless."
He clenched his fingers.
His nails sank into his palm, but he didn't even notice.
> "When I got closer… my uncle was standing among them.
There was blood… on his hands."
The breath he drew burned his chest.
> "Something snapped inside me.
I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I didn't question.
I simply felt—no, knew—that he needed to die.
Clear. Absolute. Undeniable."
Aurelia's expression darkened; Koharu covered her mouth.
Shinju's voice lowered into almost a whisper, every word heavy:
> "That was when the void first seeped into my mind.
Because I truly wanted to tear him apart."
There was no ornament in the sentence.
No heroism.
Only the truth of a broken person who didn't need to be "good."
> "I killed him," he said.
"And the moment I did… I realized I had become like him."
He closed his eyes.
His breath trembled.
From beneath the calm exterior, the voice of a small, helpless child seemed to surface.
> "They were gone.
Everyone who tethered me to this world was gone.
Who was I supposed to be?
What was I supposed to hold on to?"
A brief silence fell.
Then Shinju continued:
> "When I killed him… something else was born inside me.
An emptiness.
A void.
A silence.
And that thing… came to consume me."
He tilted his head slightly.
> "In that moment, I thought:
'If I'm going to become like him… I'd rather not exist at all.'"
When the words left him, every breath in the air stilled.
There was no philosophy, no heroics—
just the thought of someone who genuinely wished to disappear.
> "Deep down… I wanted to vanish," he said.
"Truly vanish.
To be without form… without existence."
He inhaled.
> "And that desire… reversed the flow of the void.
Instead of consuming me… it stopped.
Instead of devouring me… it bowed to me."
I felt like I had become a part of the void itself.
He slowly closed his right eye.
> "I thought I controlled the void because of some last-minute cultivation technique I found.
But no… I was lying to myself.
It wasn't cultivation—
it was my thoughts.
The void didn't submit because I was powerful.
It submitted because I chose to disappear."
> "I didn't become the master of the void.
The void surrendered to my desire… to not exist."
His shoulders trembled slightly;
this time the tremble wasn't fear—
it was a strange, subtle relief.
> "That's why I can solidify Yin.
That's why my right eye is like this.
That's why the darkness never fully consumed me."
Silence settled over them.
Koharu bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from spilling.
Swen's head dipped, her gaze—perhaps for the first time—carrying respect instead of mockery.
Aurelia gently touched Shinju's shoulder.
> "Now I understand," she said softly.
"You're not something born of darkness.
You're the one who tamed it."
Shinju closed his eyes.
For the first time, there was something beside guilt on his face:
Acceptance.
Aurelia's voice softened further, but stayed firm:
> "Now… reverse Yin's intention. Turn destruction into creation.
Think of becoming… not ending.
It doesn't need to be grand.
Just something small.
Something born from your will."
Shinju drew a deep breath.
No one had ever taught him to "create."
No one had ever told him he could remain human, even in the center of the void.
I still want to be human, he thought.
But he didn't say it aloud.
Almost whispering, he said:
> "Alright… I'll try.
But something small.
A spark.
Just a spark."
His fingertips trembled again.
Not to call forth Yin—
but because he was trying, for the first time, to think of something other than destruction.
Yet no light formed in his palms.
Only darkness…
and deep within that darkness, a new intention struggling to be born.