Dawn had not yet risen.
A cold mist crawled along the ground, slipping between the charred stones of what had once been a proud estate. The ruins of the Lin Clan looked like a graveyard without tombs—silent, forgotten, but heavy with memories no one dared to face.
Except Lin Feng.
After the strange vision the night before, he had barely slept.
The shadowy whisper — Survive, no matter what — echoed in his mind like a muffled drumbeat.
He walked alone toward the ruins, leaving Mei asleep in the small house she shared with her grandmother. She would've stopped him from returning here. He preferred not to lie to her.
The rising sun cast a faint glow on the blackened ground.
Lin Feng knelt before the broken arch.
The symbol of the Thousand-Form Shadow, once carved with precision, was now nothing more than a half-erased scar. Yet it vibrated. Faintly. Like the distant heartbeat of something trying to wake up.
He placed his hand on it.
Nothing.
The shock from the previous night lingered only as an echo.
He closed his eyes… focused his breathing… and then felt it.
Not a vision. Not yet.
Just a presence — weak, timid, like a thread trying to reconnect to an old memory.
A whisper inside him murmured:
Return…
He inhaled deeply.
— Who are you? he whispered.
The wind answered with a dull gust. No words. Just a coldness that clung to his bones.
He stood up — when something caught his eye.
A faint gleam beneath a cracked stone.
Lin Feng crouched, lifted the slab carefully… and his heart froze.
A pendant.
Circular, darkened, unnaturally cold despite the morning warmth.
The same symbol as the arch was carved into it — sharper, almost alive.
He opened it.
Inside, in tiny barely visible carving, were the words:
"Those who bear the Shadow also bear the hunger of the world."
Lin Feng's fingers trembled.
He didn't fully understand the meaning, but a part of him… a hidden, silent, ancient part… knew it was connected to him.
To his birth.
To his survival.
— Feng!
He startled.
Mei was running toward him, breathless, hair messy, eyes wide with worry.
— Why did you leave on your own? You know this place—
She froze when she saw the pendant.
Her eyes widened.
— Is that… a treasure from your clan?
Lin Feng closed the pendant slowly, pressed it against his chest.
— I think so, he replied.
Mei hesitated, then took a steady breath.
— You need to be careful… These ruins aren't normal. And what you saw last night… what was it, Feng?
He looked at her.
He could've lied.
Said he imagined it.
That it was a dream.
But shadows do not dream.
— A vision, he said quietly. Someone left something for me. A memory.
— Someone?
— A man… in the dark. He told me to survive.
Mei paled.
— Your clan… really was massacred, wasn't it?
Lin Feng lowered his eyes.
A dull ache tightened in his chest.
Not from fear.
Not from the vision.
A simpler pain.
The pain of realizing he had always been alone.
— Yes.
Mei stepped closer and gently placed her hand on his arm.
— Then I'm even more glad you're alive.
He froze, surprised by the warmth of her touch.
He nodded slowly.
But then his gaze was drawn to the far end of the ruins.
Where the morning light refused to enter.
The shadow.
Darker than it should have been.
As if something hid there.
Or watched.
He tightened his grip on the pendant.
The vibration in his chest returned — faint, but insistent.
Like an opening.
Like a call.
Mei followed his gaze and shivered.
— We should leave, Feng.
This time, he didn't argue.
He stepped back slowly.
The shadow did not move… but he felt, with chilling certainty, that it wasn't empty.
Someone — or something — was waiting.
And the next time he returned, it wouldn't be a simple vision.
It would be the first step toward the truth.