The sun rose not with a gentle, rosy-fingered dawn, but as a sudden, stark slash of white-gold across the horizon. It was a celestial proclamation, a declaration of order that felt alien in the soft, chaotic beauty of the grove. I was already awake, sitting cross-legged beneath the silver-barked tree, the lingering energy of the fruit humming a quiet, resonant song through my veins. The frantic energy of the girl who ran was gone. In its place was a stillness that felt both powerful and terrifying.
Yue appeared from the shadows of the trees as if he had been woven from them. He carried no weapons, wore no armor, yet his presence filled the small clearing with an undeniable weight. He was not just a man; he was a fundamental truth of this place, as much a part of it as the tree or the earth.
