The path stretched onward, narrowing into a winding corridor carved from crystalline threads of light. Each step brought Li Feng closer to the heart of the Nexus, but the air grew heavier, and the mark on his palm pulsed with a faint, irregular rhythm. Yan Wei walked silently beside him, her movements steady but slower than before. Her earlier sacrifice had taken its toll, and Li Feng could see the strain in her every step.

They came to a circular chamber where the walls shimmered like liquid, reflecting distorted images of themselves. The reflections moved independently, their expressions shifting into something unfamiliar—mocking, cruel, and accusatory. Li Feng froze, his breath catching as his reflection stepped forward, its eyes glowing faintly.

"You don't deserve to be here," the reflection sneered, its voice a distorted echo of his own. "You've relied on others to survive, clinging to their strength like a parasite."

Li Feng's fists clenched. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" the reflection shot back. "Yan Wei saved you countless times. She sacrificed her power for you. What have you done for her—or anyone else?"

Li Feng's gaze flicked to Yan Wei's reflection, which had also stepped forward. Its expression was cold, its voice sharp. "You're weak. You're nothing but a burden."

"Stop it!" Li Feng shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber. The reflections grinned, their mocking laughter reverberating in his mind. The mark on his palm flared, its light cutting through the oppressive atmosphere.

"Focus, Feng!" Yan Wei's voice snapped him out of his daze. She was struggling against her own reflection, her blade clashing against its shadowy counterpart. "They're illusions. Don't let them get inside your head."

Li Feng steadied his breathing, the mark's pulse grounding him. He stepped forward, meeting his reflection's gaze. "You're right," he said, his voice firm. "I've relied on others. I'm still learning. But that doesn't make me weak. It makes me human."

The reflection faltered, its grin fading. Li Feng pressed on. "Strength isn't about doing everything alone. It's about standing with those who believe in you—and doing the same for them."

The reflection let out a low hiss before shattering into fragments of light. Li Feng turned to Yan Wei, who had just driven her blade through her own reflection. The illusions dissolved, and the chamber fell silent.

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Yan Wei sheathed her blade, her sharp gaze locking onto Li Feng. "You handled that well."

Li Feng managed a faint smile. "Thanks. You too."

They turned toward the far side of the chamber, where a faint light marked the way forward. The weight of the illusions lingered in the air, but Li Feng felt a newfound clarity. The Nexus was testing not just their strength but their resolve—and he was determined to prove himself worthy.

The corridor ahead opened into another chamber, this one filled with floating fragments of crystal. Each fragment pulsed with energy, casting shifting shadows across the walls. In the center of the chamber stood an altar, its surface inscribed with intricate runes.

Yan Wei approached cautiously, her hand resting on her blade. "Be careful. This is no ordinary formation."

Li Feng followed, his gaze fixed on the altar. The mark on his palm began to glow, its pulse quickening. He reached out, and as his fingers brushed the surface, the runes flared with light.

The chamber trembled, and the floating fragments converged into a towering figure—a humanoid shape formed entirely of crystalline threads. Its presence was overwhelming, its gaze piercing.

"You have come far," the figure said, its voice resonating with power. "But sacrifice is not yet complete. To restore the Dao, you must give more."

Li Feng stepped forward, his voice steady. "What do you mean?"

The figure extended a hand, and the mark on Li Feng's palm flared in response. "The threads are frayed. Your connection to the Dao is strong, but it is not enough. You must sever a part of yourself to weave the balance anew."

Pain lanced through Li Feng's palm, and he staggered back. The figure's presence pressed down on him, and his mind raced. He thought of everything he had already sacrificed—his home, his safety, and now Yan Wei's strength. Was it not enough?

"I'll do it," Yan Wei said suddenly, stepping forward. Her voice was calm, but Li Feng could see the strain in her eyes.

"No," he said, blocking her path. "You've already given too much. This is my burden."

She shook her head, her expression hardening. "And what happens if you fail? If you lose too much, the Dao will fall apart."

"Then we fail together," he said firmly. "But I won't let you sacrifice yourself again."

The figure watched silently as they argued, its form shimmering with faint light. Finally, it spoke. "A choice must be made. The threads demand balance. Act, or be consumed."

Li Feng took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. He reached out to the mark, channeling its energy into the altar. Pain seared through his body, but he didn't falter. The light of the altar grew brighter, and the figure began to dissolve, its voice echoing one last time.

"The path to balance is forged through pain. You have chosen wisely."

The chamber fell silent, and the light faded. Li Feng collapsed to his knees, his chest heaving. The mark on his palm dimmed, but its pulse was steady. Yan Wei knelt beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"You're an idiot," she said, her voice soft. "But a brave one."

He managed a weak smile. "Thanks."

As they stood, the walls of the chamber shimmered, revealing a narrow staircase leading upward. The air around them felt lighter, but the weight of their journey was far from lifted. The Nexus wasn't finished with them yet. They pressed on, the light of the threads guiding their way.