Xiao Lei stumbled forward, each step jarring the deep wound along his side. Warm blood seeped through his tattered clothes, streaking down h

  Xiao Lei stumbled forward, each step jarring the deep wound along his side. Warm blood seeped through his tattered clothes, streaking down his leg, but he refused to falter. In his arms, Lian’s small body felt weightless and fragile, her head resting limply against his chest. Every breath burned his lungs, yet he pressed on, eyes sharp despite the haze creeping at the edge of his vision.

  The forest seemed to breathe with him, its pulse quickening at the scent of blood. Branches swayed without wind, their silhouettes clawing at the dim light that struggled to pierce the canopy. Somewhere above, something shifted—soft as falling ash. The distant growl of a predator rolled through the air. Between the trees, shadows slid like liquid, and a faint, coppery scent hung in the air where unseen things waited.

  He felt eyes glint faintly in the mist, like shards of amber watching from the dark.

  The mist thickened, weaving itself into curtains that blurred the trees into shifting phantoms. Each inhale dragged in the damp, metallic tang of his own blood mixed with the earthy musk of the forest floor. The air pressed heavy on his shoulders, as if warning him that every heartbeat spent here drew death closer.

  Xiao Lei tightened his hold on Lian and forced his battered legs to move faster. His mind worked with cold clarity—he couldn’t fight, not again, not now. The beasts here would tear him apart if he faltered. He needed cover. Somewhere to vanish before the hunters found his trail.

  The ground dipped suddenly, roots tangling like the fingers of the dead. His foot caught, nearly sending them both sprawling, but he caught himself against a tree, breath shuddering. The bark bit into his palm, and he pushed off again, moving in short, deliberate strides. His senses stretched thin, scanning every shadow, every flicker of movement in the mist.

  A break in the trees revealed a narrow fissure where stone jutted out, half-hidden behind thorny vines. The darkness beyond it yawned like the maw of some ancient beast, but it was shelter. It was enough.

  Gritting his teeth, Xiao Lei forced his way through the vines, the thorns scratching his arms. The space beyond was a shallow cave, no wider than a few steps across. Its walls were cold, smelling of damp stone and old earth.

  He crouched, lowering Lian gently onto the ground where the shadows pooled deepest. She didn’t stir. For a moment, he watched her, the steady rise and fall of her chest was proof that his burden still lived—a fact sharp enough to cut through the haze threatening to swallow him.

  Outside, the night stretched taut, every cry swallowed quickly by the mist. Xiao Lei leaned against the wall, letting the cold seep into his fevered skin. His breaths came slow, controlled, though every muscle screamed.

  The mist rolled past the cave’s mouth, curling like smoke. Xiao Lei worked mechanically, vision blurring, each movement driven by sheer will.

  First, he dragged a bundle of thorned branches to the mouth of the cave, wedging them into place to form a crude barrier. Each motion sent fire lancing through his torn muscles, yet he didn’t pause.

  Next, he crushed a handful of bitter herbs between his palms, the acrid scent stinging his nose. The pulp smeared cold and sticky across Lian’s arms and neck, its sharp odour meant to disguise the scent of blood from prowling beasts. His own wounds he ignored.

  The girl’s safety mattered more—not out of care, but because her survival was part of the deal he had silently accepted.

  When the task was done, he crouched low beside her. The air at the cave’s mouth curled inward like pale smoke, carrying with it the distant cries of unseen predators. Lian lay against the far wall, small and unmoving, her breathing faint but steady.

  The dim glow filtering through the branches painted her face in ghostly hues. For a fleeting moment, Xiao Lei allowed his eyes to rest on her, confirming she still lived. That was enough.

  Xiao Lei moved like a shadow burning out, every step leaking what little strength he had left. By the time he reached the entrance, his body gave way and he sank against the wall.

  His gaze drifted one last time to the shadowed figure of the girl. Only then did he let go, slipping into unconsciousness.

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  Time bled away unnoticed. When the mist at the cave’s mouth finally paled with the first light, the shadows inside felt colder, deeper.

  The forest outside seethed with life—low growls, rustling leaves, the occasional snap of a distant branch—but none were able to find the cave.

  Inside, silence stretched until a small sound broke it: a faint, trembling breath. In her dreams, the forest’s growls still chased her, but a slower, ragged sound pulled her back—Xiao Lei’s breathing. Lian stirred.

  Her eyelids fluttered open, and dim light met her gaze. For a moment she didn’t know where she was. The jagged stone above, the mist pooling like water at the entrance—it all felt unreal. Then her eyes found Xiao Lei.

  He was slumped against the wall, head bowed, his face drained of all colour. His chest rose only shallowly, each breath a fragile thing. Blood had dried in dark patches across his torn clothes, and his right arm hung limply at his side.

  Lian’s breath caught. Panic flared hot in her chest. “Big Brother?” she whispered, crawling toward him on unsteady limbs. Her fingers trembled as they touched his cheek—it was cold, far too cold. For an instant, she feared she was too late. Desperation welled up as she pressed her ear against his chest.

  A heartbeat. Weak, but present. Relief broke through her fear, leaving tears burning at the corners of her eyes.

  Memories tumbled back—his cold voice telling her to stop talking, his harsh expression as he pushed forward without a word of comfort. Yet he had never left her. Even when she thought he had abandoned her to the beast, he returned. Even now, broken and bloodied, he was here.

  With trembling hands, she fumbled through his pouch. Most of the herbs were strange, yet her gaze lingered on a few she half-remembered from her grandfather’s lessons.

  Without thinking, she plucked them out, brushing a browned edge from one leaf before crushing them together. She bit her lip, unsure if the mixture would heal or harm, but pressed it on anyway, whispering each time he flinched in his unconscious state. Her small hands worked tirelessly, wiping blood and binding cuts with strips of torn cloth.

  The cave smelled of herbs and iron. Outside, the forest stirred, but she no longer heard it. Her world had shrunk to the slow beat under her fingers and the faint rise and fall of his chest.

  When she finished, she sat beside him, clutching what remained of the herbs. Her fingers curled into his sleeve as if holding him there by force, tears streaking her cheeks as she whispered, “Don’t leave me too, Big Brother.”

  The words dissolved into the darkness, swallowed by mist. Yet in that fragile moment, surrounded by a world that wished them dead, they clung to the fragile thread of survival together.

  ?? — ? — ??

  Xiao Lei drifted through an endless darkness, weightless, until a faint presence pulsed like a star hidden behind clouds. Drawn to it, he moved—though here, movement was only a thought.

  As he neared, the presence sharpened into something more tangible, not a form but an awareness. It clung to him, both alien and strangely familiar. He reached out, hand trembling despite the absence of a body, and the instant his thoughts brushed against it, a voice struck through the darkness.

  “Every time you’re about to die, you come crawling here.”

  The tone dripped with disdain, ancient and cold. Xiao Lei froze, eyes darting across the empty void, searching for its source.

  “You’re not out for a stroll, brat. This is your own mind. Why do you look around as if I’m hiding in a bush?”

  The voice sneered, mocking.

  Xiao Lei’s lips parted. “Who… are you?”

  A low chuckle reverberated, sharp as splintered glass. “Who am I? I am the one who patched together your broken body the last time you danced with death. And you—rather than show respect—you dared wrest away a fragment of my being, and now you disturb this king’s slumber.”

  For an instant, he thought the sneer sounded almost like his own, and the thought chilled him more than the void around them.

  But before he could speak again, the void trembled. A distant rumble tore through the blackness, vibrating under his feet—feet he hadn’t realized he had here. The tremor grew until the darkness cracked apart, spilling light like molten stars.

  When his eyes opened again, he was standing in an endless sky. Stars swirled above and beneath, galaxies bending around him as if the world had been turned inside out.

  A sound drew his gaze forward—a low growl, not loud but threaded with an oppressive weight. From the rippling starlight, a small figure emerged. At first glance, it was a puppy—fluffy, white-black fur catching the cosmic glow, eyes too large for its head. Yet the way it stared at him, fangs bared, turned that cuteness into something predatory.

  Xiao Lei hesitated. “Was it… you who spoke just now?”

  The creature tilted its head, lips curling. “No. I’m the one hiding in the bush.”

  Its voice was the same as before, filled with derision. Xiao Lei swallowed hard, unsure if he should step closer. “What are you? And what are you doing inside my body?”

  The puppy let out a bark that wasn’t quite laughter but carried the same mockery. “What am I? Kid, if I told you, you’d wet your already wet pants again. As for why I’m here… call it fate. If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be here questioning me at all.”

  It narrowed its glowing eyes, the air thickening around them. “But this—” the creature’s tone darkened, “—this crawling back from death’s door again and again? It can’t continue.”

  The puppy tilted its head, as if thinking, then with a flicker of movement, it leapt. Its paw touched Xiao Lei’s forehead, small yet impossibly heavy, pressing into his mind like a burning brand.

  A surge of force tore through him. Foreign knowledge and language he didn’t understand, threatening to crush his consciousness. The starlit sky spun violently, and Xiao Lei’s scream was lost in the brilliance of it all.

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  Destiny Reckoning. It’s set in the same universe, and you definitely don’t want to miss it, because the stories will eventually crossover.