Morning in the Open Sky Sect did not start, it attacked.
Rat woke to the sound of iron striking stone somewhere above, followed by a chorus of groans from every bedroll in the dorm. He rubbed his eyes, tongue dry, lungs tasting of metal. The air here always carried a flavor, like the mountain kept exhaling judgment.
He sat up slow, testing his ribs. Still sore, still working. The Codex flickered faintly behind his eyes, its presence calm and steady like a second pulse.
[Status: Stable.]
[Qi circulation: improving.]
[Recommendation: continue breathing.]
"Thanks," Rat muttered. "Real groundbreaking advice."
Wei Yun stirred beside him, looking worse for wear but alive. The boy's face was pale under the torchlight, but there was color creeping back into his lips. Progress.
"You sleep?" Rat asked.
"Some," Wei Yun said. "I kept hearing the mountain whisper."
"That's just the wind pretending it has opinions."
They dressed and followed the others outside. The sky stretched pale and endless, the peaks above lost in a haze of white. Below them, the Basin looked impossibly far away, like a rumor they'd both outlived.
Instructor Zhen was waiting in the courtyard. She didn't need to call for silence; her stillness did that for her. The other initiates fell into lines with the obedience of people afraid to repeat yesterday's mistakes.
"Today," she said, "we test your endurance. Breath is useless without strength to carry it."
Two stewards rolled out heavy stones the size of small barrels. They were marked with silver patterns, each one faintly glowing. Rat's stomach sank. Weighted Qi stones. Of course.
Zhen tapped her staff once. "You will carry them up the eastern stair to the Wind Terrace. If you fall, do not rise. The mountain will decide what to keep."
A few recruits exchanged uneasy glances. One muttered a prayer. Rat leaned toward Wei Yun. "How many steps?"
"Three thousand," Wei Yun whispered.
Rat grinned. "Only three thousand? Must be a holiday."
Zhen's gaze caught him. "You will lead the first group, Rat. Since your tongue is so strong, perhaps your legs are too."
He sighed. "Finally, someone believes in me."
The laughter that followed was short and nervous. The stewards dropped the stones at their feet with a dull thud. Rat crouched and gripped his, fingers already protesting. It was heavier than it looked, dense with Qi, like the air around it refused to help.
They began to climb.
The first hundred steps were a test of patience. The next hundred were a test of pain. By the fifth turn, his shoulders screamed and his breath turned ragged, but Rat refused to slow down. Horizon in. Horizon out. The rhythm steadied his heartbeat, turned strain into noise.
Behind him, Wei Yun wheezed. "You… make it look easy."
"It's not," Rat said through his teeth. "I just owe too much to quit."
Every few turns, a candidate stumbled. The stewards made no move to help them. The wind howled through the gaps in the cliff, pulling sweat to steam. Each time someone fell, their stone rolled back down the stairs like a reminder of gravity's sense of humor.
By the time the Wind Terrace came into view, a wide platform jutting out over open sky, only twenty still climbed. Rat's arms felt like they'd been replaced with molten metal. His breath scraped, but the small sun in his belly spun steady.
Then came the voice.
It wasn't human. It came from the air itself.
"How much weight will you carry, little thief?"
Rat nearly tripped. The Codex flared to life.
[External influence detected.]
[Thread resonance increasing.]
[Warning: pattern interaction at unsafe proximity.]
The wind rose, sharp enough to sting. Rat blinked, and for an instant, he saw them. Threads again. Dozens this time, maybe hundreds, twisting between the stones and the sky, glimmering faintly like veins under skin. Each initiate had one wound tight around their chest, stretching up toward the clouds.
He looked at his own. Black, frayed, humming like it was laughing.
"Really?" Rat whispered. "We're doing this again?"
Wei Yun glanced over, panting. "Doing what?"
Rat shook his head. "Nothing. Just talking to bad life choices."
The last flight was pure torture. Rat's knees shook, vision blurring at the edges. When he set his stone down at the terrace, he had to bite his tongue to stop from shouting. The air here was wild, raw Qi that tasted electric.
Instructor Zhen stood at the top, arms crossed. "Half of you made it," she said. "Better odds than yesterday."
Rat dropped beside his stone, half-laughing, half-choking. "Do we get prizes?"
Zhen arched a brow. "Breath."
He looked up, still grinning. "Generous."
But even as he said it, something strange rippled through the air. The threads above trembled, and for a heartbeat, Rat saw them connect, to each of the exhausted initiates, to Zhen, even to the mountain itself. All lines converged somewhere he couldn't see, too high, too bright.
Then one thread snapped.
A girl two rows over collapsed with a scream. Her body twisted, Qi surging out of control. The mark on her forehead flared crimson.
Zhen's eyes widened. "Qi deviation–!"
Rat moved before he thought. He didn't reach for his Codex this time. He reached for her thread.
It met him like a live wire. Pain exploded through his hand, racing down his arm, but he held it. He could feel her heartbeat… wild, scattered, dissolving. He forced his breath steady and pushed the rhythm outward.
Pour. Settle. Return.
Her body jerked once, twice. Then she stilled, panting. The glow dimmed. The Codex burned white-hot behind Rat's eyes.
[Fate Interaction recorded.]
[Fate Entanglement +1.]
[Shared Thread formed.]
[New skill adaptation: Thread Anchor (Minor).]
The pain vanished as fast as it came. Rat stumbled back, dizzy. Zhen's gaze fixed on him, unreadable. "Again," she said quietly. "You interfered."
He met her eyes. "Yeah. You're welcome."
Silence stretched. Then, to everyone's surprise, she nodded once. "Next time, do it before the mountain asks twice."
Rat blinked. "That's the closest thing to praise I've heard all week."
"Don't get used to it."
The remaining initiates rested under the open sky, too exhausted to speak. Rat sat beside Wei Yun, staring at the horizon until it blurred. The threads were gone, but their memory lingered, a faint ache behind his ribs.
"You saw it again," Wei Yun said softly.
Rat hesitated. "Something like that."
"What does it mean?"
He watched the clouds coil beneath them like sleeping beasts. "No idea. But I think the mountain's trying to teach me knitting."
Wei Yun snorted weakly. "You're insane."
"Maybe. But I'm still breathing."
The wind picked up, tugging at their robes, sharp and cold. Rat leaned back on his hands, feeling the threads hum faintly somewhere beyond sight. The Codex opened once more, quiet and precise.
[Codex of Strands of Fate - Status Update]
Vitality: 5
Qi Sense: 4
Comprehension: 4
Fate Entanglement: 14
Realm: Foundation Establishment
New Skill: Thread Anchor (Minor)
Effect: Temporarily stabilize another's collapsing Qi flow by synchronizing breath and intent. Strength and duration limited by user's Fate Entanglement. Overuse risks thread backlash.
New Appendix: Loom Theory, Fragment Two
"To anchor is not mercy but defiance. The one who holds another thread risks unraveling their own."
Rat shut his eyes and laughed quietly. "Defiance, huh? Now that's more my language."
The mountain didn't answer.
It only breathed back.