He was broken and alone.
It wasn’t a fate Ash wanted for his brother or himself.
He lowered his pistol. “We’re neither judge nor jury, but wewilltell the truth of everything that you’ve done, and youwillanswer for your crimes.”
Song Liming stayed silent, refusing to acknowledge him.
Ash took Yiran’s arm, lifting him up. “I’ll come back for him. Let’s get you out of—”
Ash froze. As did Yiran.
The air had changed. A torrent of arcane energies permeated their surroundings, sending shock waves through the building. It was something Ash had never experienced before.
Something unfathomably ancient, somethingotherworldly, had entered their realm.
He heard a strangled gasp from Yiran.
“Zizi.”
71
Zizi
Zizi shivered the moment he stepped in. Yinqi was rife in the air. It felt like shades of the underworld were present here. The skylight above was shattered. So was the glass platform in the middle. A broken hunk of metal with wires sprouting on it lay on the ground. Was it the control panel? And if it was broken, how could he shut down the machine as Yiran instructed?Whatwas the machine? Zizi didn’t see anything in here that resembled one.
He stepped to the edge of the broken platform. Down below, a figure was striking the metal cuffs around an unconscious Surin’s wrists.
“Rui!” he cried.
She looked up. Her pale face was bruised, her hair matted with blood. He could tell by how she was holding her sword that her shoulder was busted too. But she wasalive.
“We need to get them out of here!” she shouted, pointing to the other unconscious Exorcists and cadets shackled to the pillars.
She froze suddenly, staring wide-eyed at a shadowy corner. Even from above, Zizi could sense her fear.
A rumbling growl grew louder and a monstrous shape appeared from the darkness. The creature’s eyes glowed red like molten fire, its fangs gleaming, its vicious claws and spiked tentacles writhing like snakes. It reared up, ready to pounce.
The creature was quick. But Zizi was faster.
He leaped down, landing in front of the monster, shielding Rui. As he swung his sword, one of the creature’s tentacles dug into his mortal flesh, scorching it with yinqi. Blood dripped from his chest, and he could smell the sear on his own skin, but he kept swinging his blade as he muttered an incantation.
Whining in pain, the creature retreated to the shadows.
But it did not die.
Zizi staggered when he realized why. His mortal magic, his attacks—they were no longer effective against this new form of Revenant because his spirit core wasbreaking.
He could feel it now. It was happening too quickly and too powerfully to deny. Small fractures lining up, meeting at points, his core splintering, pressure building at the heart of it. How long did he have before it shattered?
But he only gripped his sword tighter. He had to stay strong for Rui.
“They keep spawning,” she said from behind him. “And they’re much stronger than any Revenant I’ve fought.”
“The yinqi is changing them. Where’s the machine?”
“What machine?”
She didn’t know what it was either, and there was no time to go back up to ask Yiran what he’d meant. Already, Zizi could see nebulous shapes shifting in the shadows. He eyed the dim corners of the room warily, readying his sword.
