The mouth of the Cave of Souls sits deep within the mountain pass, shrouded in shadow and cut off from the outside world. Bian and Ha Linh stand at the threshold, staring into the yawning abyss, its darkness seeming to pulse with quiet malice.
“This is our only chance,” Ha Linh says, her voice cutting through the silence..
“I know.” Bian swallows hard. “But… what if we can’t leave?”
Ha Linh smirks faintly. “Then we’ll die there. This path isn’t for the weak, Bian. You knew that when you chose it.”
Bian doesn’t respond immediately. She knows Ha Linh is right. If they can’t overcome this trial, she might as well have died back at the temple.
She nods. “Let’s do it.”
Together, they step forward, into the darkness.
***
The world around them changes the moment they step foot inside the cave. The sunlight vanishes entirely, consumed by complete nothingness. The air feels heavy, the silence thick and oppressive.
“Shouldn’t I be hearing my footsteps?” Bian murmurs aloud, her voice small and swallowed by the silence. “Wait… did I say that, or just think it?”
“Ha Linh?” she calls, her voice trembling. There’s no response.
Panic stirs, clawing at the edges of her mind. She stretches her arms out, seeking the walls, the floor—anything—but nothing. Just the emptiness surrounding her from every direction. Her breathing quickens.
Alone, her memories surge within—the night spent trembling in the ruins of the temple, her body cold and broken. Mai Ly dying in her arms, knowing that she will soon be utterly alone.
“Ha Linh?” she calls again, louder this time. Still nothing.
Bian takes a step, and then another. Her hands shake, her body fighting the instinct to retreat. The floor beneath her feet feels solid yet unreal, as if it exists only because she believes it’s there. What if she stops believing? Will she fall into an eternal abyss?
She loses track of time. Minutes, hours—days? The darkness is endless, and her thoughts start to drift. Memories come flooding in, painful and biting.
Mai Ly’s warnings to not enter the temple. The laughter of her sisters at the Academy. The horror in their eyes as the Quis descended, and then Tien’s blade cutting them down one by one. She remembers it all.
“It was my fault,” she whispers, her voice cracking under the guilt. “We should have never gone into the temple. I shouldn’t have pushed them. If I didn’t they would have–” Her mind continues to race, her breathing intensifies. Suddenly, right before falling over the edge, Bian hears a sound deeper in the silence: the soft, pitiful sobs of a child.
Bian freezes. “Hello?”
She moves toward the sound, the blackness around them shifts into shapes–trees, tall and crooked-. A forest, dark and prickly. Further beyond the trees she sees her: a little girl crouched beneath a tree, her face buried in her arms as she cries. Her small frame trembles, her shoulders shaking with each anguished sob.
“Hey…” Bian kneels cautiously, her voice soft. “Are you okay?”
The girl doesn’t answer, her sobs growing louder, painful.
Bian reaches out, but a searing heat bursts from the child’s small frame, pushing her back.
“Ouch!” She recoils, clutching her hand. “I just want to help—are you hurt?”
The girl’s sobbing stops abruptly. Slowly, she lifts her head, her eyes glowing red.
“Do I seem okay to you?” the girl bites. “They took everything from me—my family, my home. I want them all to burn!”
“This is me,” Ha Linh’s voice cuts through the darkness. “The night everything changed.”
Bian turns to her, confusion across her face. “Is this the night your family were attacked by the Quis?”
“They didn’t.” Ha Linh interrupts, her gaze fixed on the child. “What I’m about to tell you… I’ve never told anyone before.” Her voice wavers. “It wasn’t the Quis who killed my family.”
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The forest around them begins to shift, shadows warping into shapes. Angry voices rise, distant at first, then closer—shouts filled with hatred and fear.
“It was them.” Ha Linh’s recalling the event, and old wound resurfacing. “The villagers. They called us abominations. Monsters of chaos.”
Bian stares in disbelief as the scene unfolds before her eyes. She recognizes it from her dreams—but now it’s clearer, the truth.
A mob storms a small house at the edge of the forest, torches lighting up the night. Inside the house, a man and woman stand firm, their bodies braced against the door. The man clutches a sword in the defense, but is cut down by the mob. A woman, standing between them and a door leading towards the forest, begging for her life. The scene shifts back into emptiness, the girl gone.
“They died so that I could live, but I lived everyday wishing I had died with them.”
Bian’s heart sinks, and tears stream down her face. “Ha Linh… I’m so sorry.”
Ha Linh turns to her, her gaze cold. “Don’t be. I survived. And I swore I’d never run away again.” Her voice stiffens, but there's something more. “But that’s not the end of the story.”
Bian asks hesitantly. “What happened next?”
Ha Linh takes a breath. “Years after I left the village, I began to practice. Using everything my mother taught me, I honed my skills. Training as if my life depended on it.”
“Like how we’ve been training,” Bian comments quietly.
Ha Linh nods. “Once I was ready, I went back. I didn’t know what I’d find… just that I had to.”
The darkness morphs once more, a small village.
“The villagers were gathering once more,” Ha Linh continues. “Torches, weapons, eyes filled with hate. Just like that night. This time, they were after the village leader’s granddaughter—the same man who had led the charge against my family.” Ha Linh scoffs. “He was pleading for their lives now, after everything he did to mine.”
Bian remains silent, her heart heavy as the scene unfolds.
Ha Linh’s gaze grows heavy. “I could have let them take her. Let them do to him what they did to my parents. But when I saw that same look on their faces—exactly like before—I felt something inside me explode. And in that instant, I got my revenge.”
The fires settle as smoke rises into the air. Ha Linh approaches the old man. His face was pale, his hands shaking.
“It’s... it’s you?” His voice cracks as he stares at her in disbelief. “How is this possible? We thought you’d died in the forest.”
Ha Linh said nothing, she just stood there, staring.
The village leader turned to his daughter and granddaughter. “Go inside, gather your things. We’re leaving immediately.” The girls disappeared into the house, and the old man came closer, his steps trembling. “I can’t believe it... How did you survive all this time?”
Ha Linh’s eyes never left him.
Trying to fill the silence, he continued. “You know, after that night, I always wanted to go out and search for you. I always regretted what happened to you… and your parents. To think you would return and save our lives... How can I ever thank you?”
Ha Linh’s response was sharp. “Them...” She nodded toward the girls. “I saved them.”
She stood motionless. “Not you.”
The man’s face drops. He falls to his knees, his hands clasped together in desperation. “Please... I’m sorry for what I did before. But please, find mercy in your heart to spare my life.”
Ha Linh stares down at him, eyes cold as ice. “Whatever mercy I had… died with my parents.”
In a flash, the old man falls to the ground, his life extinguished in an instant. The shadows around them darkened once more.
“How did you feel after?” Bian asks.
Ha Linh’s expression tightens for a moment as she recalls the memory. “At first, I felt relieved. It was all I thought I wanted. But that relief was fleeting. What came after… was a wave of emptiness. As if everything I had been living for, everything that kept me going, vanished the instant he fell.”
Bian looks down, guilt pressing down like a mountain. “At least you got revenge for your family. It wasn’t your fault they died.” Her voice trembles as she adds. “The Orchids were all I had. And I led them to their deaths.”
The heat around them disappears as Ha Linh’s voice softens. “Good.”
Bian looks up, surprised.
“You should never forget them,” Ha Linh continues. “Carry that guilt with you. Let it remind you why you fight. Let it strengthen your resolve. Revenge isn’t always bad, Bian. Sometimes, it’s the only way we can redeem ourselves.”
Bian stares at her, taking a moment to absorb the words.
“I told you my story as a warning. The path that you have chosen will not be easy. It is one filled with bloodshed and heartbreak. You will be tested and broken time and again, but you must continue forward. This isn’t about justice—this is revenge in its purest form. There will be no happy ending. No peace, no closure. Are you ready to walk this path?”.
Bian takes a moment. Just how far is she willing to go for revenge?
***
Outside the Cave, the temple stirs with chaos. Bo Pham and the monks gather their weapons, preparing to defend their sanctuary. The Tiger Claw assassins are at their doorstep.
Bo Pham stands at the temple’s edge, axes in hand, eyes locked on the treeline where the enemies lie in wait. His voice is teeming with authority. “No one passes us. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” The monks roar in unison.
***
Back in the depths of the Cave, Bian’s eyes snap open. Her breathing steadies, her mind clear. She can feel it now—a connection, not just spirit and host, but one soul.
“Are you ready?” Ha Linh asks, her voice expectant.
Bian nods, jumping to her feet. Without warning, a flame erupts from her, a brilliant blue that destroys the surrounding darkness. Unlike Ha Linh’s fierce red flames, this one is cool, almost serene. It’s their fire. In one voice, “Let’s do this.”