The days in the Hollow Gate bled together like ink in water, long hours of meditation, breathing exercises, slow forms repeated until his muscles screamed. But in that blur, something in Kirin began to shift.It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t the serene, effortless cultivation that Shen seemed to radiate. No, Kirin’s progress felt jagged, like tearing down a wall brick by brick while the mortar fought to hold it together. Still, each day he pushed, each night he clawed inward past the hum of his twin entire being, trying to mimic the cultivation patterns described in the Malakari scrolls.Then, one evening, it happened.It started as a deep ache in his gut, a pressure like someone pressing a heavy stone against the inside of his skin. His breathing staggered, his vision darkened. And then...It was as if something had splintered in him.Not painfully, but with the strange relief of snapping open a lock that had been rusted shut. His body felt lighter, his thoughts sharper. And deeper stil

Three days later...The three of them stood in front of the tall, black doors. There were no markings, no handle, no visible seams, just an unbroken sheet of polished stone that reflected them faintly like a warped mirror.Kirin didn’t like the way it reflected his face. It wasn’t perfect. The angle of the jaw was wrong, the shadows in his eyes a little too deep, like the door knew something he didn’t.Vael’s voice cut through the tense silence.“This is the Trial of Threads. There’s no fighting, no weapons. You will survive by your will alone.”Shen gave a confident nod, his arms folded. “Illusion trials? I’ve done a few. Just focus, keep breathing, remember it’s not real.” he murmured to himself.Aza smirked. “You’ll be fine, Kirin. Just… don’t start crying for your mother in there.”Kirin didn’t respond. His gut was twisting too much for comebacks. He had been through things far worse than any training exercise they could imagine, but the word illusion made his skin crawl. He had s

Kirin had been doing his best to follow Vael’s advice, slowing down, breathing through the nights when the heat under his skin became unbearable, keeping his chaos energy from flaring every time his mind wandered to that other version of himself. Progress was happening, yes, but it was uneven. Some days he could meditate for hours without a flicker of instability. Others… it felt like he was sitting on a powder keg, one wrong thought away from blowing himself apart.That morning had been one of the calmer ones. He sat cross legged on the stone floor of his quarters, eyes closed, breathing in the slow rhythm Vael had taught him. The Hollow Gate compound was strangely quiet, only the faint hum of distant Qi forges breaking the stillness. He was almost at peace, until a familiar voice broke it.“Kirin… I need your help.”He opened one eye. Aza stood in the doorway, hands clasped behind her back in a way that screamed that she was up to something.“No,” he said flatly.Her face twisted in

The days after Aza’s punishment passed in silence, but the silence felt heavier than any words could. Everyone acted as though nothing had happened, like Vael hadn’t nearly beaten her to death in front of the entire sect. The students moved through the halls with straight backs and calm faces, bowing when expected, never speaking of what they had seen. The silence itself was obedience. Vael, of course, behaved the same as always. Calm, cold and noble. It made Kirin’s stomach twist. He hated how easily the man slipped back into his usual rhythm, as if Aza’s cries were another step in the daily routine. As if brutality was a seasoning sprinkled over discipline. Kirin tried to bury it, but the memory wouldn’t leave him. Every time he saw Aza’s stiff posture, her bruises poorly hidden beneath her robe, he remembered standing there, powerless, forced to watch. She hadn’t complained. She hadn’t even looked at him with blame. She just carried the weight in silence. Shen, too, avoided spea

The days rolled by in the underworld prison like a river of ash, slow, heavy, and suffocating. Kirin had almost lost count of how long it had been since he had glimpsed that fractured reality, that vision of Malakar torn apart by war. Every time he closed his eyes, the images crept back, fire raining from skies, twisted armies rising, and a darkness that seemed to consume even the strongest of warriors.It was the kind of sight that left a man restless. He trained harder now, sharper, as if the only way to push down the anxiety clawing at his chest was to let his body move until it could move no more. But no matter how many times he unleashed his qi into strikes, no matter how many times he tried to carve stability out of chaos, the weight in his heart never really left.He thought he was hiding it well. But of course, Vael noticed.Late one night, Kirin was summoned. A messenger came, one of those silent shadows who never spoke, only bowed and gestured. He led Kirin through the twist