Dawn light filtered through the library's high, narrow windows in thin, dusty shafts. The air smelled of old paper and the faint metallic tang of Lin Feng's blood—still drying at the corner of his mouth from the system's final lash.
He sat against a shelf of forgotten clan records, knees drawn up, head tilted back. Yue Li knelt in front of him, carefully cleaning the blood with the edge of her torn sleeve. Neither spoke for several long minutes. The silence wasn't empty; it was heavy with everything the system had just tried to rip away.
Eventually Lin Feng opened his eyes.
"The backlash is coming sooner than I thought," he said quietly. "Not the full Lament yet. Just… echoes. Like the system is testing how much I can take before I beg for Option A."
Yue Li paused, cloth still pressed to his lip.
"What does it feel like?"
"Like someone is slowly turning the volume up on every regret I've ever had. My mother's voice keeps starting the lullaby and then cutting off mid-note. Every time it happens I feel her hand slip away again. Just a fraction more each time."
He looked at her—really looked.
"And you. When I close my eyes I see you bleeding out in that vision. Not dead yet. Just… fading. Asking why I chose weakness."
Yue Li's expression didn't waver.
"It's lying. It wants you to doubt the choice."
"I know." His voice cracked on the last word. "But knowing doesn't make it stop."
She set the cloth aside and took both his hands in hers. Her palms were callused from sword work, warm despite the early chill.
"Then we make new memories louder than the lies."
Before he could answer, the panel reappeared—smaller this time, almost sullen. No dramatic violet cracks. Just cold white text on faint gray.
[Sovereign's Resentment – Day 1 / 7 until mandatory quest]
[Minor Feedback Loop Activated]
[You will now experience intermittent "Echo Pulses" – brief, involuntary projections of possible futures under Option A. Duration: 3–7 seconds. Frequency: increasing daily.]
[First Pulse commencing in 10… 9…]
Lin Feng tensed.
Yue Li felt it through their joined hands.
"Lin Feng—"
The world tilted.
For six brutal seconds he wasn't in the library anymore.
He stood on a throne carved from the fused bones of slain Sovereigns. Below him stretched an endless plain of kneeling figures—sects, empires, gods—all broken, all his. No emotion crossed their faces; they were husks wearing the masks of people he once knew.
Yue Li knelt closest. Her sword lay shattered at her feet. Her eyes were dull, love burned out like a candle that had guttered for decades. She looked up at him and spoke in a voice stripped of warmth:
"You chose this. You chose power over me."
Xiao Qing's small body lay beside her—lifeless, healer's hands curled uselessly.
Lin Hao's head rested on a pike to the left, expression frozen in eternal shock.
And in the center of it all, a mirror showed Lin Feng's own face—beautiful, flawless, utterly empty. No silver vein under the eye. No song in the blood. Just cold dominion.
The vision snapped.
Lin Feng gasped, doubling forward. Yue Li caught him before he hit the floor.
His breathing came in harsh, ragged bursts.
"It showed me… us. But not us. Hollow versions. You looked at me like I was a stranger."
She pulled him against her chest, arms locked around his shoulders.
"That's not us. That's what it wants you to become."
He clung to her—fingers digging into the fabric of her robe like she might vanish if he let go.
"I almost chose it," he admitted in a whisper so small it barely reached her. "For one second… when the pain was worst… I almost said yes to Option A. Just to make it stop."
Yue Li didn't flinch. She only held him tighter.
"Then we make sure the next second hurts more to even think about it."
The panel chimed again—soft, almost mocking.
[First Echo Pulse complete.]
[Emotional Overload briefly spiked to 2.4× during projection.]
[Current bond integrity with Yue Li: 94% (minor stress detected).]
[Reminder: Sovereign's Resentment quest activates in 6 days. Target: Elder Zhu. Method: full devour of heart core. No substitutions permitted.]
Lin Feng lifted his head slowly.
His eyes were bloodshot, but clearer than before.
"It's trying to isolate me. Make me think I'm protecting you by pushing you away."
Yue Li nodded once.
"Then we do the opposite. We stay closer. We share every echo, every pulse, every memory. Let it see that breaking one of us means breaking both."
From behind the hidden panel, Xiao Qing's muffled voice drifted out—small but steady.
"I'll help. I can't fight like you two… but I can hold the song when it gets too loud. I practiced lullabies for sick children. I know how to keep them going even when they want to stop."
Lin Feng exhaled—shaky, but real.
He looked between them—his swordswoman and his healer—and felt the first faint note of the Spirit Song respond. Not in pain this time. In quiet harmony.
The silver vein under his eye pulsed once—warm, approving.
The system noticed.
A final line appeared on the panel before it vanished:
[Integration resistance increasing.]
[Enjoy your fragile balance while it lasts, Keeper.]
No threats. No visions.
Just a promise that the war wasn't over.
Lin Feng stood—slowly, leaning on Yue Li's shoulder.
"We need to move. Elder Zhu will know something happened last night. He'll tighten security. We need information—where he sleeps, who guards him, what talismans he wears."
Yue Li helped him steady himself.
"I know a scribe who owes me. He works the night archives. He can pull Zhu's private records."
Xiao Qing's voice came again—determined.
"I'll stay here. If anyone comes looking, I can pretend to be a lost junior disciple. I'm good at looking harmless."
Lin Feng managed a faint, tired smile.
"You're more than harmless."
He placed a hand against the hidden panel—palm flat, as though reaching through wood to touch her.
"Stay alive. That's your only job right now."
A small hand pressed back from the other side.
"I will. For the song. For both of you."
Yue Li and Lin Feng stepped out of the alcove into the slowly brightening library.
The first patrol bells rang in the distance.
The day had begun.
And with it, the system's slow, deliberate campaign to make Lin Feng regret ever choosing his mother's lullaby over godhood.
But for now—at least for now—he walked forward with Yue Li's hand in his, the silver note humming softly in his blood.
A fragile, defiant harmony against the gathering dark.