The soft, misty drizzle tapped lightly against the mossy roof.
The sea carried frigid winds, the waters trailing them to the foot of Mt. Firmament, where a crumbled edifice—an ancient stone building—lay tucked near the ridge.
Kyorin slept beneath the collapsed dome, his breath slow, arms curled around his pack.
The warmth of his body barely held back the cold, his pulse steady beneath the rubble, shielded from the petal-arrow rain that swept across the cliffside.
Yet despite the rain's gentleness, some still found it ebbing—an uneasy veil—as six figures slipped through the natural shower.
The misty curtain clouded their vision, but their sense of smell was not. Among them, one caught a trace in the air.
"Hmm… nice smell," one murmured, eyes narrowing as they turned toward a mound of collapsed rubble.
"There." The figure pointed, and another stepped closer.
As they moved, a distinct scent caught their attention—like petrichor, but unlike the natural kind. This one seemed to permeate only from that single spot.
They exchanged glances, and in silent agreement, understood one thing: Someone was there.
Inching closer, they felt the ruins crackle faintly with residual Resonance, ghost-light flickering across shattered Tacetite conduits.
Wary of the figure within, they moved cautiously, yet their approach seemed to stir the Resonance—its rhythm turning more erratic, more aggressive. The gentle rain was no longer gentle.
Hail began to fall on that stretch of cliff, and the fog thickened. But the unknown figures were undeterred. They walked straight into the collapsed dome.
They emerged from the mist like wraiths in scavenged gear—armor patched from salvaged plating, reinforced with animal hides, and worn utility fabric.
Akin to how vultures scavenge the wilds, these were the human scavengers of Solaris III—The Exiles.
Their clothes bore the stains of survival—grease, blood, and soot. Some wore goggles with cracked lenses; others had half-masks rigged with makeshift filters.
Wires looped from their bodies, connecting power cells to Tacetite weapons strapped to their backs or welded into their bracers.
A few displayed their Rings openly—glowing bands fused to their forearms or hanging from chains around their necks, trophies taken from the fallen among their own.
Though they wore respirators, their bearing betrayed something deeper: the expression of those who had lost everything—home, name, future—and carved a place in the wilderness with nothing but grit and stolen fire.
Upon entering, they found Kyorin's sleeping figure.
"Hoh, look what we have here," one of the Exiles muttered, crouching beside him. Their voice crackled through a salvaged rebreather, patched with resin and wire.
"Something's odd… hey, look." Another, with a sharper tone, pointed toward Kyorin's neck. "That Resonance from earlier must've come from him," she remarked.
A third voice chimed in softly, "Must be."
The Exiles came from all walks of life—runaways, war criminals, lost engineers, deserters from failed regimes.
While not inherently malicious, they had few qualms about breaking laws that never served them.
Each five carried a Tacetite weapon—crudely bound crystal blades or resonance rifles stripped from old corpses, humming with unstable energy.
"He looks young, promising," said another with a gleam of greed, eyes flicking around with feral intent.
"Resonator, huh?" the tallest one grunted. "Could fetch ten thousand marks if he's fresh. Nobles of the Federation will pay plenty for a clean one."
The six exchanged glances, then one said, "Bring the Resonance-suppressing clamp."
"Here, this one can suppress up to level 35." One of the Exiles produced a black collar from their terminal as the others moved in.
As they reached for him, Kyorin stirred slightly, forcing the Exiles to pause—the silence thickening by the second.
Then, somewhere distant yet close, a sound ripped through the aether: a roar echoing across layers of time and space. It was Jué.
The tallest Exile snarled, "Hurry!"
One moved closer just as Kyorin's eyes flickered open.
Simultaneously, up in the mountains, DEVA severed her connection to him. Though it was temporary, it was enough.
The Exiles snapped the black collar around Kyorin's neck, Tacetite lines glowing a dull, crimson red as it nullified his dormant energy.
"Haiya."
"Kugh."
A boot slammed into the side of his head, hard enough to knock him unconscious.
One of them lifted him, and the crimson robe Kyorin wore slipped off his body.
"Hurry—we've got a boat waiting a few kilometers from here," one of them urged.
"But won't the rain slow us down?" another asked.
"If we hesitate, we'll be caught. And besides—" the Exile gestured at Kyorin, "—we haven't earned a thing in months. We can't let this jackpot slip away."
The others muttered in agreement. Despite the downpour, they disappeared into the mist, carrying Kyorin away from the rubble.
After running nearly five kilometers, they reached a rusted, half-sunken boat. Without ceremony, they tossed Kyorin's unconscious body inside and started the engine, waves crashing violently around them.
Though the storm had raged at Mt. Firmament, the moment they left the shore, it began to calm. Within minutes, the waters ahead turned eerily smooth.
Sneering, the woman Exile said, "Perhaps the gods have blessed us." She knelt beside Kyorin and ran a gloved hand across his face. "You'll fetch us a fortune."
Thud.
***
Thud.
A sound—no, not just a sound. A pulse. It beat not through the air, but from within Kyorin's heart.
Inside that quiet space, two figures watched the unfolding events.
Xia's voice trembled. "My son…"
Xin Yao gently touched her arm. "No need to worry, Lady. Not yet."
"How can I not worry?" Xia said. Though her voice was calm, a storm flickered behind her eyes.
Yet, it soon passed as she exhaled sharply, shaking her head, her breath turning calm from rugged.
Xin Yao smiled. "See? Even he—Kyorin—is telling you to calm down." She spread her arms with a soft smile. "If he is so calm, you need not worry, Lady."
"My worry is that of a mother, Lady Yao," Xia replied. "How can I not be concerned when my son is in danger? Especially when danger prowls the seas of Solaris III."
"Pft." Xin Yao let out a giggle despite herself. "Your worry, and that motherly love… It's very sweet, indeed. No wonder he was so infatuated. To only taste it, he left everything behind ."
She wiped away a small tear at the corner of her eye, the smile lingering as she added, "If you're worried about the creatures beneath the waves, your concern is misplaced, Lady Xia."
She turned slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips as she added, "Even if this rusted boat were sailing the Yellow River itself, its earl, Hebo, would not dare touch it."
Her gaze then fell into the Sea, the confident smile not leaving her face. "And as for the beasts of the deep—they wouldn't come near the vessel carrying Kyorin."
Xia blinked, clearly bewildered. "Why is that?"
Xin Yao tilted her head, her lotus eyes catching the dim light. "That's because he is blessed by Guixu—the Gathering Abyss of Water, one of the Five Arbiters who governs the water element of the material world."
She paused, then met Xia's eyes. "No river, sea, or spirit dwelling in water from any realm would dare harm the one Guixu has touched."
Xia was still visibly uneasy, her brows drawn tight as she stared over the churning waters. "But the boat is so old," she muttered. "Who knows when it might fall apart?"
Without a word, Xin Yao stepped closer, gently placing a hand on Xia's shoulder. She guided her to sit beside her on the stone bench, the motion fluid and calming.
"Lady Xia," she said with quiet assurance, "even if that so-called old boat were to traverse the Weak River—Ruò Shuǐ—whether it carried sages or miscreants unworthy of heaven, as long as even a single eyelash of Kyorin remains aboard, the waters will let it float."
She gave a soft smile, her voice like still water. "That is the weight of Guixu's blessing."
Yet, even after Xin Yao's reassurance, Xia remained uneasy but fell silent, folding her hands in a quiet prayer for her son. From the sidelines, she watched with a heavy heart.
Xin Yao smiled to herself, her eyes calm and knowing. 'Why worry,' she thought, 'when you, the Wishing Lady, have already wished for your son's triumph on that fateful Moon-Chasing night?'
"Hmm." Her lips curled up.
Despite being an abbot, Xin Yao sneered mockingly, eyes closed. "In front of your love," she whispered, "a love that even made the one Beyond the Beyonders yearn for..."
Her eyes snapped open, her gaze drifting downward as her thoughts continued. "How could the heaven... and even the Fate Writer ever hope to rival it?"
***
"Haah… Haah…"
Ragged breaths echoed as Changli skidded through the snow, cold air stinging her face. Her feet stumbled over snow-covered rubble and cracked tiles.
The lantern-lit streets of Hongzhen blurred around her—she wasn't heading anywhere in particular. She just had to get out, look into places, and hope she'd find him—Kyorin.
But she hadn't made it far.
A pulse of Resonance—quiet, deliberate—hit her chest like a rope. Her body froze mid-step, ankles locked by a field of pressure far more refined than hers.
Mayor Fu's silhouette stepped out from behind a broken arch, calm as the moon.
"Enough," he said gently, lifting a single hand. The Resonance eased, but its presence lingered like a firm hand on her shoulder. "Breathe, Changli."
Her lips parted for air, but her lungs refused.
"I—" she started, then shook her head violently. "Please, I need to go—I have to find—"
"Kyorin?" Fu finished inquisitively.
The name, which once brought joy, now felt like a wound that leaked not blood, but guilt.
She turned her face away, ashamed.
Mayor Fu approached slowly, his voice level but quiet. "I felt the disruption. Half the city did," he said, then asked, "Is your junior martial brother the reason?"
He knew the question was unrelated—and the wrong one to ask—considering the Sentinels' sudden behavior, which had nearly ruptured every tuning shrine west of the atrium.
But he had to ask, despite how absurd it sounded.
Changli shook her head.
"I don't know," she admitted, adding, "But what I do know is that Kyorin left the city because of me."
She clenched her fists, arms wrapped tightly around her middle, as if trying to contain her heart before it broke her ribs.
"Why is that?" Mayor Fu asked.
Changli didn't respond.
"I'm not asking you as the Mayor right now, Changli," he said. "I ask you as your senior. What happened?"
Though her breath was still unsteady, Changli gathered her courage and confessed her jealousy of her junior brother's talent.
That jealousy had caused a rift between them. But once she realized her mistake, she wanted to apologize properly—by making him a meal.
After failing spectacularly at that task in the morning, she had tried to redeem herself. She'd told Kyorin to leave the house and return later for dinner.
But instead of thinking about what to prepare, she had been caught up in reflecting on her behavior, slipping into a deep state of meditation.
By the time Kyorin returned, nothing was prepared. Yet instead of owning up, she had become a coward. Unable to fulfill her promise, she couldn't bear to face a hungry Kyorin.
And, due to her recent actions, she believed Kyorin must have thought she didn't want him to come inside. And so, he left.
"Why do you believe he left the house?" Mayor Fu asked.
Changli brought some clothes out from her terminal and held them up."He left these at the doorstep," she said, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face.
"I was just supposed to make dinner…" Her voice broke again. "Just rice and that spicy tofu he likes. That's all. That's all I was supposed to do."
"Yet I—" Her breath caught, her airway tightening, until Fu gently patted her back. "Changli. Breathe."
Hic. Hic.
"Changli, listen to me." He grabbed her shoulder, speaking with a firm, steady tone. "What happened was caused by a huge misunderstanding."
"You are not the cause. You are not the cure," he said. But with quiet solemnity, he added, "But you are someone who cares. That still matters."
They stood in silence as a light breeze carried faint sirens from the inner district—patrol teams calming the uneasy citizens of Hongzhen, roused from sleep by the roar of the Loong.
Mayor Fu glanced beyond the city gates. "We don't know where Kyorin is. But mourning the what-ifs won't bring him back any faster," he told her.
"Besides, the city needs us grounded—our Sentinel also seems to have been disturbed by something." He looked up toward the Loong's Ridge.
Changli wiped her face with a sleeve, her breath still shaky.
"I just… wanted to apologize," she said, her face twisted in pain.
Fu's gaze softened with understanding. "Then hold onto that apology," he said. "And instead of rushing blindly to find him, strategize. Think about how you can quickly find him."
Changli nodded, sniffling, though another worry lingered in her mind. "Hopefully… before Teacher returns," she said.
Mayor Fu raised an eyebrow. "Is the Grand Resonator not present?"
Changli nodded again.
Fu fell silent, his thoughts turning inward. 'Perhaps something major is at play here…'
And he was correct. Because just then, the earth stirred.
First, a whisper underfoot. Barely perceptible.
Then—a roar.
Not thunder. Not wind. Not machinery.
It was Jué.
The sky darkened at the edges as a deep, resonant bellow erupted across Jinzhou, like a primordial god tearing open the veil of silence. It wasn't sound—it was a command.
A vibration that rattled bones, shivered glass, and hummed inside every cornerstone throughout the district.
From the direction of Mt. Firmament's summit—where no mortal dared tread—the roar split the clouds.
And beneath it, a single, forceful, wordless declaration rang through every being blessed with the Echo Gift:
"THIS CHILD—HSI—WILL INHERIT THE MAGISTRACY OF JINZHOU."
The city stopped.
Traffic halted. Prayer chimes froze mid-sway.
Resonators across the metropolis fell to one knee—not out of submission, but sheer instinct. Even Fu, for a fraction of a second, staggered under the weight of the decree.
Gazing up, Fu murmured in awe, "Jué hasn't declared a successor in over a century." His voice carried disbelief as a thought stirred in his mind: 'Maybe this was the cause of Jué's earlier roar.'
With the mystery behind the earlier cry resolved, Fu turned towards Changli. Though awestruck, her gaze was distant, still consumed by thoughts of Kyorin.
'Then... where is he?' Fu wondered.
***
"???"
Far, far away, in the middle of an ocean, Kyorin stirred awake.
A soft breeze drifted through the open space, carrying the scent of salt and sunrise. Morning was creeping in—its pale light brushing the horizon.
As his eyes fluttered open, he saw a woman in a mask gazing down at him.
"Rise and shine," she said in a gentle voice. Then, after a pause, she added, "I'm sorry for yesterday's assault."
"I'm sorry for yesterday's assault."
The words echoed—uncomfortably familiar.
He'd heard them before.
From Hina. [Ref: Chapter6: Social Dynamics]
His former teacher at the academy.
The one he had, through the power of misunderstanding, killed.
And now, the same force that had led to her death—misunderstanding—was aiming at him.
But Kyorin was fully aware. He accepted it. Afterall, this was the price of living, and the consequence of one's deed.
This is Karma.
To be continued...
***
A/n: A few pieces of feedback on recent developments would be appreciated.