Morning came gently to the Moonlight Court. Dew clung to the leaves, and the pale lotus blooms unfurled slowly beneath the sun. But inside the chambers of the inner disciples, the air was anything but calm.
Rael sat cross-legged.
Silent.
Still.
Yet inwardly—
Storming.
---
The previous night's attempt hadn't been random. He'd studied the movements of the assassin, the poison, the barrier, and the timing. Everything pointed toward precision—toward someone who knew the sect's layout, patrol routes, and Qingshi's travel patterns.
A fellow disciple?
No—too sloppy.
An elder's servant?
Perhaps.
Or… a message?
He opened his eyes.
The room was dim, curtains drawn. The incense in the corner had long since burnt out.
But the scent remained.
Bitter willow and foxroot.
A sign.
He reached beneath his robe and drew out the black-threaded cloth he'd used to bluff the assassin.
He hadn't spoken the name stitched in blood.
But he knew what it said.
"Echo 7 - Fused Layer Gate"
A relic from the time before this world. Before he woke up in TAO. A piece of the dream-that-was-not-a-dream.
A memory... from someone who wasn't him.
Or maybe he was that person now.
---
The door creaked.
Rael's dagger was in his hand before the shadow moved.
But it wasn't danger.
It was Yue Qingshi, dressed in white today, her robe laced with silver clouds and lotus vines. Her lips were no longer pale. Her pulse no longer weak.
But her eyes held the storm he expected.
"You lied," she said plainly.
Rael gave a noncommittal shrug. "I didn't."
She stepped inside and let the door close behind her.
"You bluffed with a name. A name you shouldn't know."
Rael remained seated.
"I never said it out loud."
"But the assassin ran."
"She made a choice."
---
Yue Qingshi crossed her arms.
"You're not an inner disciple. You don't carry a clan token. You haven't even registered a single official cultivation art in the archives."
Rael tilted his head.
"You've been checking on me."
"I had to," she said, voice tight. "After last night—after that fight—there's no way I can ignore it."
Her tone softened.
"You saved my life."
"I didn't do it for gratitude."
"I know," she said. "You did it because you thought no one else would."
That silenced him.
---
She walked slowly to the window and looked out.
"The Moonlight Court is bleeding from within," she said. "You know that now. There are eyes in the shadows. Elders with buried ambitions. Heirs grooming weapons instead of disciples."
Rael listened.
But he said nothing.
Because the truth was—he'd felt it since the moment he stepped into this world.
This wasn't a sect of peace.
It was a crucible.
---
Suddenly, she turned and walked up to him.
"Tell me the truth. Where did you get that cloth?"
He studied her face.
He saw how badly she wanted to trust him.
But he also saw the weight behind her gaze.
Politics.
Clan obligations.
He couldn't afford to hand her that truth.
So he lied.
"A beggar sold it to me on my first day in the outer city. I thought it looked useful."
She stared at him.
Then, to his surprise—she smiled.
"You're a terrible liar."
"I prefer the term 'strategic thinker.'"
---
She laughed.
Genuinely, for the first time since he'd met her.
The moment passed quickly, but he didn't forget it.
---
Later that day, Rael walked alone across the Dragonbone Garden, the section of the sect where martial tombs and older legacies were sealed beneath carved monuments. Not many disciples visited—only those seeking ancient techniques.
He wasn't here for that.
He was here because someone had left a note beneath his pillow that morning.
"Midday. Fourth Obelisk. Come alone."
And because the script was written in blood—not ink.
---
He reached the fourth obelisk.
A towering slab of blackstone, shaped like a dragon's spine.
No one was there.
He waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Then—
A flicker of movement behind the pillar.
Rael didn't move.
A girl stepped out. Maybe fifteen. Barefoot. Robes plain and threadbare.
Her eyes were black.
Not dark.
Black.
And her smile—feral.
"You're the one," she said.
Rael said nothing.
"I saw it when the veil thinned. When the Moonhowl Beast died and the air shifted."
He narrowed his eyes.
"You were watching that?"
She nodded slowly.
Then drew a symbol in the dirt with her toe.
A spiral inside a crescent.
Rael recognized it instantly.
The Mark of the Outer Gate.
He felt his muscles tighten.
"Where did you learn that?"
"I didn't," she said softly. "I remembered it."
He stared at her for a long moment.
Then said, "You're not from this world, are you?"
Her smile widened.
"I was born here. But not all of me came from the womb."
---
She reached into her sleeve and tossed something to him.
A shard of bone.
Long. Jagged. Marked with silver lines.
The same kind of bone as his dagger.
"More are coming," she said. "They don't bleed red. They don't fear Qi. But they do eat dreams."
Rael caught the shard, but his gaze didn't leave her face.
She turned.
Started walking away.
"Wait," he said.
She paused.
"What's your name?"
She looked over her shoulder.
"They don't let me have one."
And then she vanished into the trees.
---
Rael stared down at the shard in his hand.
It was warm.
And it pulsed faintly.
Almost like a heartbeat.
---
System Notification: Unregistered Item Detected – [Dream-Eater Bone Shard]
Origin: Unknown.
Description: Resonates with fragmented soul remnants. May unlock forgotten memories or attract dream entities.
Warning: Use at your own risk.
Side effects unpredictable.
---
Rael clenched the shard in his hand.
And for the first time—
He heard a whisper.
Soft.
Almost like a memory.
"We never left. We were just forgotten."