“The past is not a pce to visit, but a shadow that lingers. To face it is to confront oneself, and to break from it, one must shatter the very heart of memory.”

  I. The Silence Before the StormAduin’s breath was ragged, his body shaking as the st echo of Yu Xiaoqin’s voice faded into the void. The darkness around him pressed in, suffocating, as though the very air had turned to stone. He had once thought himself a man of purpose, but now, with no path ahead, no light to guide him, he felt like a drifting ember, lost in an endless bck sea.

  His mind, pgued by fragments of memories—both his own and those of others—swirled like a storm. The Lantern Citadel had been a prison, but now, it was something worse. It had become a reflection of his inner turmoil. Each step he took seemed to pull him deeper into the heart of this forgotten pce, this pce of echoes.

  “Xiaoqin…” Aduin whispered her name again, as if it would bring her back. But there was no response, only the oppressive silence of the realm. The walls, once filled with the flickering lights of nterns, were now dark and cold, their stone faces as empty as his own heart.

  He stumbled forward, the weight of the Ninth Fme still burning in his chest. It was a heavy, relentless force, constantly pulling at him, urging him to move, to act. But act how? He had no direction, no crity. Every path he considered felt like a trap, leading to some inevitable end.

  “What did you mean, Xiaoqin?” he muttered to himself, his voice hollow. “What truth did you want me to see? The Lantern Matron... she’s not what I think? What does that even mean?”

  Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble. His heart skipped a beat, and he froze, instinctively reaching for the Rot-Bone Dagger at his side. The dagger’s hilt burned with the power of the Ninth Fme, but Aduin could feel it—something was wrong. The air had grown thick, heavier, like the world itself was about to colpse.

  From the darkness ahead, a figure began to emerge. It was barely a silhouette at first, but as it stepped forward, Aduin's breath caught in his throat.

  It was a man, his body cloaked in shadows, his features hidden beneath a dark veil. But there was something familiar about him—a memory, long buried, that stirred within Aduin's mind.

  "You don't remember me, do you, boy?" The voice was deep, distorted, as though coming from the depths of the earth itself. Yet, there was an edge of recognition in the tone. A familiarity that made Aduin’s heart race.

  The figure stepped closer, the shadows around him twisting like living things. As he drew near, Aduin could see his face—or at least, what remained of it. It was scarred, a once proud visage now twisted by years of suffering. The man’s eyes were empty, devoid of any humanity, only cold, hollow sockets staring back at him.

  “I remember you…” Aduin breathed, a sickening chill running through his veins. “You were one of the first…”

  “The first of many, yes.” The figure’s lips curled into a grimace. “The first to learn the price of seeking power. The first to fall into the trap of the Lantern Sect.”

  Aduin’s mind reeled. He tried to recall the fragments of the man’s identity, but they slipped away like smoke. This man—he had seen him before, but where? And why did he feel like this was the key to everything he had been searching for?

  “You… you were there…” Aduin’s voice trailed off as the memory finally began to surface—fuzzy at first, but growing clearer.

  It came to him in a fsh—a memory buried deep within the Rot Sutra.

  The Lantern Sect, in its endless thirst for power, had once experimented on those who sought the Ninth Fme. They had tested their theories, bound their subjects to the Fme, forcing them to endure unimaginable trials. The man before him was one of those experiments.

  “That’s right,” the man said, his voice sharp with a twisted satisfaction. “I was one of the first to be bound to the Fme. I was the

  experiment that started it all. The Lantern Sect’s first test of the truth.”

  II. The Price of PowerAduin’s hands clenched around the hilt of his dagger as the man’s words sank in. The Lantern Sect had not only experimented with the Ninth Fme—they had created it. And now, Aduin, the st bearer of the Fme, was nothing more than a product of their twisted machinations.

  “You were meant to be the savior,” the man continued, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “But in the end, you’re nothing more than a legacy of failure. A failed experiment that still lingers, waiting for the inevitable end.”

  Aduin felt his heart skip a beat. This wasn’t just about the Fme. It was about his very existence—about the truth of who and what he was. The Ninth Fme, the Sutra, the Lantern Sect—they had all conspired to create him, to turn him into something that didn’t belong to this world.

  “What do you want from me?” Aduin demanded, his voice cold and steady, despite the turmoil in his mind. “Why are you here?”

  The man’s eyes glinted, and he stepped back, allowing the shadows to swirl around him.

  “I’m not here for you, boy,” he said, his voice echoing with ancient bitterness. “I am here to remind you. To remind you of what you are. And to show you what will happen if you do not accept the truth.”

  The shadows around the man writhed, and Aduin could feel the Rot Sutra inside him begin to react. The air thickened, and the ground trembled as though the very fabric of reality was being torn asunder.

  “What is this?” Aduin asked, his voice rising in arm.

  “This is the price,” the man said with a cruel smile. “The price you will pay for seeking the Fme. The price you will pay for defying the Lantern Sect. The truth is not something you can run from. It will consume you.”

  Aduin’s pulse quickened, his vision blurring as the pressure in the air increased. He could feel the truth creeping in, like a dark, insidious poison, wrapping itself around his mind and soul. It was suffocating him, drowning him in its weight.

  “You’ve already given everything,” the man’s voice echoed in his ears. “Your life. Your soul. The truth. There is no escape, Aduin. The Lantern Sect will always cim what is theirs.”

  But just as Aduin felt his resolve begin to crack, something deep within him stirred.

  Xiaoqin's voice.

  “You can break free. You must.”

  The words were a whisper, a fleeting hope in the midst of the storm. Aduin’s chest tightened, but something inside him—something unshakable, unyielding—pushed back against the man’s words.

  “No,” Aduin said, his voice firm. “I won’t let you consume me. I will find the truth on my own.”

  A sharp ugh escaped the man’s lips.

  “Then face it, boy. Face the truth that the Lantern Sect has hidden for centuries.”

  The ground cracked beneath Aduin’s feet as the world began to unravel. The man’s form faded into the shadows, his ughter echoing through the void as the Citadel itself seemed to colpse around Aduin.

  “You will never escape the truth,” the man’s voice echoed one st time.

  III. The Ghost of the PastAs the darkness closed in, Aduin found himself falling—falling through a vortex of memories, both his own and those of others. He saw fshes of faces he did not recognize, of pces long forgotten. And at the center of it all, he saw a mirror.

  It was a simple mirror, framed in ancient wood, its surface untouched by time. Yet when Aduin looked into it, he saw something that made his heart stop.

  Himself.

  But it was not the Aduin he knew.

  This version of him was different—older, more powerful, more broken. His eyes, once full of defiance and hope, were now hollow, filled with the weight of countless betrayals and regrets.

  “This is who you will become,” the man’s voice whispered, now a distant echo. “This is the legacy you inherit. The truth you cannot escape.”

  The mirror shattered.

  And as it did, Aduin felt the world around him begin to crumble.

  Epilogue: The Ghost that RemainsAduin awoke, gasping for air. His body was drenched in sweat, his heart racing as though he had just run a marathon. But when he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the Citadel. He was in a new pce—one he did not recognize.

  The darkness was gone, repced by a soft glow.

  But the feeling of dread did not leave.

  For he knew, deep down, that he had only begun to unravel the truth of the Lantern Sect.

  And the truth would not let him go.

  [TO BE CONTINUED...]