Mingxi shot her a look that could have melted steel.
“Explain,” Mingzhao ordered.
Poppy stepped forward. “It didn’t react to Mingxi. It didn’t react to the warriors. It reacted to me.”
“You?” Elder Qiao blinked. “Why would a fragment recognize you?”
Poppy pressed her hand over her chest, unsure how to articulate it.
“When I touched the moonwell… something changed. I didn’t just bind it… I touched the magic inside it. And it touched back. I think the fragment recognized that.”
Xu Yunlian paled. “You carry moonwell resonance.”
Poppy nodded.
“And it reached for you?” Mingzhao asked grimly.
“Yes.”
“Did it touch your qi directly?”
“No. But it tried.”
Mingxi’s voice dropped to a protective growl. “And it will try again.”
The hall erupted with heated murmurs—elders theorizing, Guardians debating, Minghua whispering, “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
Lysandra froze. Her mango dropped to the floor. Her pupils dilated—one bright, one dark—and her voice split into a low, echoing dual tone.
“Two lights, twined beneath the ribs, one ancient, one new. The fragment calls the first, but the second wakes too soon.”
Silence slammed into the hall.
Poppy blinked. “Mingxi… what does that mean?”
But Mingxi had gone utterly still. Not breathing. Not blinking. Frozen.
“Two lights…” Elder Suyin whispered. “Twined?”
Mingxi inhaled sharply, breath shaking. “No.”
He turned to Poppy. Slowly. Afraid the world would tilt beneath his feet.
“Poppy,” he whispered, “your qi… has felt different for days. I thought it was moonwell echo.”
“It is,” she said quickly. “Isn’t it?”
Xu Yunlian stepped forward like she was walking through a dream.
“Child,” she whispered, voice soft with dawning realization, “may I… may I examine your pulse?”
Poppy hesitated. “What is everyone—”
Mingxi cupped her cheeks with trembling hands. “Yueguang,” he breathed, “there is a new light inside you.”
Her heart stuttered. “What are you talking abo—”
Lysandra snapped back to herself, blinking rapidly.
