The world tilted as Ling Tian's knees struck the frozen earth. The void above pulsed like an infected wound, its crimson stars blinking in sync with the frantic hammering of his heart. Frost crackled across his skin, forming intricate patterns that mirrored the scars beneath—the legacy of the Key's awakening.
Xiao Hei giggled, plucking at the ice creeping up his arm. "Gege's turning into a snow sculpture!"
Qing'er's sword was a silver blur as she severed the frost vines snaking toward them. "Move. Now." Her blindfold had frozen solid, the fabric snapping as she tore it away to reveal eyes wide with something Ling Tian had never seen before—fear.
The Crimson Witch simply watched, her robes billowing in a wind that didn't touch the others. "Run if you like," she said, nodding toward the dagger still clutched in Ling Tian's hand. "But that won't kill what's coming."
Ling Tian's grip tightened. The star-metal blade hummed, its vibrations traveling up his arm like a hound's growl. "What is coming?"
The Witch's answer was cut off as the ground shrieked.
The Unraveling
The estate's central pavilion exploded upward in a geyser of splintered wood and twisted metal. From the wreckage rose a figure—Auntie Pei, her familiar round face now stretched over a grotesque, elongated skull. Her fingers had fused into bony talons, the tips dripping with the same honey-brown liquid she'd once stirred into Ling Tian's milk.
"Little master," she crooned, her voice layered with something else—something that buzzed like flies in a corpse's mouth. "You forgot your medicine."
The ledger on Ling Tian's arm convulsed, its pages fluttering to a new entry:
Second Debt: The Traitorous Heart. Dig it out.
Memories detonated behind his eyes—
Five years old, hiding under the kitchen table as Auntie Pei argued with a hooded figure. A vial exchanged hands, its contents swirling like trapped smoke.
"The master says it's time," the stranger hissed. "For the boy's own good."
Auntie Pei's tears hitting the vial. "He's just a child."
"And the Key will keep him one."
Ling Tian vomited violently, the contents of his stomach freezing solid before they hit the ground. The "medicine"—decades of poison, fed to him drop by drop to suppress the Key's power.
Qing'er's blade was already moving, aiming for Auntie Pei's throat—
—and stopped mid-air, arrested by an invisible force.
"Ah-ah," tutted the creature wearing Auntie Pei's face. It tapped its temple. "You can't kill a thought, little swordswoman."
The Poisoned Heart
The thing that had been Auntie Pei twitched, its limbs elongating further, joints popping as it unfolded to its full height—nearly eight feet of spindly, segmented horror. Its skin split like overripe fruit, revealing glistening muscle beneath, threaded with pulsing veins of honey-gold poison.
"Your father begged me to protect you," it sighed, shaking its head in mock sorrow. "But all that medicine made you dull. Slow." A talon tapped Ling Tian's chest. "We had to wake you up."
Ling Tian's scar burned. The Key's power surged, his mutated arm splitting open to reveal rows of teeth lining the inner flesh. The star-metal dagger flared white-hot in response.
Xiao Hei, suddenly serious, pressed her tiny hands against his back. "Gege, don't—"
Too late.
Ling Tian lunged, driving the dagger into the creature's chest.
It laughed.
The blade passed through like mist, the creature dissolving into a swarm of wasps—each one the size of a thumb, their bodies striped in gold and black. They coalesced into a spinning vortex around Ling Tian, their buzzing forming words:
"You can't kill your own memories."
The swarm dove as one, forcing themselves into his nose, his mouth, his ears—
The Trial
Ling Tian was five years old again.
He sat at the kitchen table, swinging his legs as Auntie Pei hummed and stirred his morning milk. The vial of medicine sat beside her, catching the sunlight like a jewel.
This is a memory, he realized. But I'm still me.
Auntie Pei froze, her spoon clattering to the floor. Her eyes locked onto his—really seeing him.
"Little master," she whispered. "You remember."
The kitchen dissolved, replaced by the Ling Clan's ancestral hall. His father knelt at the altar, a knife pressed to his own throat.
"Swallow the Key," he rasped. "Forget. Survive."
The scene shifted again—the massacre. Auntie Pei dragging him to the cellar, her hands shaking as she pressed the vial to his lips.
"Drink," she sobbed. "It's the only way to make you forget!"
The wasps poured from his mouth in a screaming stream, reforming into the creature. It crouched before him, its head cocked.
"Now you see," it murmured. "I saved you. Your father's orders."
Ling Tian's claws flexed. "You poisoned me."
"To protect you." The creature sighed. "The Key's power would have torn you apart as a child. The medicine… slowed things down." It leaned closer, its breath reeking of honey and rot. "But you had to remember eventually. Tianlang Xiu is coming."
The Truth
The vision shattered.
Ling Tian gasped back to awareness, sprawled on the frozen ground. The creature loomed over him, its talons poised above his chest—not to kill, but to carve.
"The Key's grown roots," it whispered. "Time to prune them."
Qing'er's sword sang as she severed the creature's arm at the elbow. Black ichor sprayed, freezing midair into jagged crystals.
Xiao Hei caught one, licking it like candy. "Bitter," she pronounced.
The Witch materialized beside Ling Tian, her fingers brushing the scar on his chest. "The Key's waking," she murmured. "And your nursemaid's medicine is the only thing keeping you alive."
Ling Tian stared at the creature—his oldest betrayer, his unwitting savior. The ledger's command echoed:
Dig it out.
He raised the dagger.
The creature smiled.