I don’t like to brag, but I consider myself something of a savant when it comes to pissing people off.

What can I say? It’s a gift, one I’ve honed to perfection completely by accident. I don’t actively aim to anger people all the time, it just happens naturally as a response to my actions, which usually are done without ulterior motive. Demand kowtows from a lost bet? Totally justified. Being passive aggressive about someone showing up late to the fight? Entirely understandable. Rolling my eyes because I can’t stand the sheer stupidity spewing out of someone’s mouth? Absolutely unavoidable. It’s not my fault people are so thin-skinned and lose their shit over nothing, so I’ve had to overcompensate by carefully considering my every action to ensure no offence is given. It’s not very effective because I often forget to think before I act, and other times I forget the rules are different in this shitty death world and default back to society as I know it, often to disastrous result.

In this specific scenario, my inquisitive curiosity is to blame for my inadvertent insult, as I turn away from the smug smiling, tea sipping, power-posing Zhen Shi to explore the boundaries of this seamless white room. At first glance the alabaster cosmos seems to stretch on to infinity, with no horizon or landmarks to discern direction, but I soon realize that no matter which way I turn, Zhen Shi is always sitting at the edge of my peripheral vision, just sort of looming there all threateningly. If I try to focus on something else and turn away, he disappears and reappears on the opposite side, as if we’re standing on a tiny globe and I have close to three-hundred and sixty degrees of vision that can also bend around the surface of this small planet.

Okay, the physics doesn’t really work, but this isn’t the real world and the same rules don’t apply.

Cognizant of this fact and how Zhen Shi’s masked displeasure grows with every second I ignore him, I crouch and poke the ground, but there is no resistance. My finger just plunges past my ankles as if I’m standing on solid air that only affects my bare feet. Hoping I’m not naked, I check my clothes and find myself swaddled in saggy rags, sack brown and utilitarian as can be complete with rope belt and chafing fabric, but it covers all the important bits and that’s all that matters. Closing my eyes, I set off in a random direction and count my steps to see how far I can go. A hundred steps later, I open my eyes and find Zhen Shi still hovering at the edge of my vision, his teacup in hand and perfectly poised to show how identical it is to Mom’s tea set. Struck by a stray thought, I undo my belt and hold one end while flinging the other end as far right as I can, wondering if I’ll catch a glimpse of it on the left, but alas, nothing comes of it. This means my trippy, tiny planet theory is probably wrong and Zhen Shi is just actively keeping himself in the corner of my eyes, which is actually kind of funny. As far as I can tell, everything about him is carefully engineered to put himself in a position of power, from his lofty aerial perch and regal golden robes, to the subtle threat of the tea set and ‘foreboding’ continued silence.

Honestly though? It feels like he’s just trying too hard, especially since he’s floating in mid air. A pedestal or something might’ve been better, as well as a more impressive throne, but I think he was worried I wouldn’t notice something as subtle as a single teacup and included the whole kit and kaboodle to ensure his message got across. He even got the smell right this time, which he left out in his last illusion, so he’s improving as he goes, but he’s pushing all the wrong buttons if he wants to scare me. Oh no, he knows where I am and is watching me closely, oooohhh so spooky. It’s almost been a year since I’ve known true privacy, maybe even longer, and I recently powered through not one, but two wedding nights knowing I probably had Concealed guards waiting in earshot. Watch all you want, Mister Ghost Man, because I don’t care about voyeurs anymore.

Well, that’s not true. If Zhen Shi showed up as a naked old man with wrinkly dick in hand over an image of me and my wives, I don’t think I could ever run away fast enough...

Truth be told, the biggest reason why Zhen Shi’s presence doesn’t really alarm me is because of all the problems I’m dealing with right now, this war with the Defiled actually ranks pretty low on the list. There are five Colonel Generals who are all far more qualified than I to lead the Imperial Army, and my job is mostly just to okay their plans and make sure the Marshals come up with the requisite supplies. I only vetoed Nian Zu’s idea to launch a massive counterattack because I thought the massive risks far outweighed the marginal rewards. The outer provinces are merely the appetizer to his main course, the Imperial Clan in the East, and our soldiers make for the perfect whetstone to hone his newly turned Chosen. Granted, this should motivate me to go for a decisive blow and set the Defiled back, but while the numbers are not in our favour, time is. With the Western Province as his sole foothold in the Empire, Zhen Shi’s resources are sorely limited since the west is only rich in stuff like gold, silver, copper, coal, salt, and gemstones. Valuable, yes, but only in trade, and we’ve successfully stamped out most smuggling enterprises in the last year. I have Situ Rang Min to thank for that in the North, while Marshal Quyen Huong locked things down in the South, and Central’s flat landscapes and the heavy military presence at the Western Wall makes it virtually impossible for any smugglers to make it through unseen. This means the Enemy is starved of vital resources, namely iron, stone, and timber, all of which Zhen Shi needs to craft weapons, armour, wagons, and more.

Also food, but considering the Defiled diet consists primarily of other Defiled, I doubt empty bellies are much of a concern. Regardless, Zhen Shi will eventually run out of equipment for his Chosen of Heaven, Runic or otherwise, which means the size of his army is limited. What’s more, while the Defiled have some means to craft their own version of Spiritual Weapons, I’ve noticed the Chosen don’t use Spiritual Weapons at all. I never really thought about it until a few days ago when I saw Goujian abandon his sword in the fight against Binesi and Han BoHai, but I checked and there is no report of any Chosen using a Spiritual Weapon on the battlefield. Runic armour a plenty, and a few carry Defiled armaments, but Spiritual Weapons? Zilch.

The significance of this discovery escapes me, but it’s something to keep in mind, and it all leads to the same conclusion. Time is on the Empire’s side, because while we would eventually lose a war of attrition, the odds are currently in our favour. We hold the defensive advantage and the Enemy isn’t using their advantage of numbers, so there’s no point doing anything different. If the Defiled group up and force their way through the Western Wall, then we’d be in trouble, but so long as they are content to throw themselves piecemeal on the walled forts of the second line, then it behooves us to be patient and wait. We’re bleeding soldiers, but the overall numbers are looking good, especially now that Hongji and other Central officers have embraced the power of the catapult. Being a pragmatic sort, the Northern soldiers have been using these weapons of war since the beginning, and have no qualms about picking up a crossbow to plunk away at the Defiled hordes, because the only good Defiled is a dead Defiled, and northerners are happy to kill Defiled in any way possible.

It’s still shameful to rely on a ranged weapon in battle, but we Northerners are a pragmatic bunch.

There’s simply no benefit to the Empire if we go on the offensives, and it’s clear the Enemy forces are in place to turn any counter-attack into a trap. It’s a textbook bait and switch, and even though I said as much and played out every possible action for my war council to see, they still refused to believe the Defiled would act as I expected, in a calm and intelligent fashion. They’re too used to seeing the Enemy as a canny beast, dangerous if approached unprepared, but also utterly incapable of utilizing proper tactics. Granted the Defiled haven’t really shown the ability to do so yet, aside from a few probing test battles from Chosen Generals who have only recently taken the field, but I know the true mastermind behind the Defiled is Zhen Shi, who is more capable than any of us can imagine.

Not this Zhen Shi, floating high above me and sipping his tea. No, this is most definitely the fake, inferior version, because there is no way an eight-hundred year old psychopath would ever be this transparent. The real Zhen Shi is the one who engineered the trap on the second lines, hammering the centre hard while sandbagging on both flanks to put out this tempting bait, which would lead to disastrous results if Nian Zu and Shuai Jiao had their way. While a long and drawn out war would be perfect for tempering his Chosen, he’s still losing soldiers and equipment, so it would be even better if he could score a resounding victory over the Imperial forces in the field. Not only would he strike a grievous blow against the morale of the Empire, possibly causing South, North, or even Central soldiers to desert or turncoat, he could also capture more capable Imperial soldiers to win over to his side.

I assume this is how Zhen Shi is getting most of his Chosen of Heaven, using Gen’s Oration to make them susceptible to Spectres, but I’m curious to know why Imperials don’t do the same thing in reverse. It’s been a long time since Sanshu and I’ve learned that Oration is not a Talent, but an actual Chi skill, one I inadvertently use when my emotions are high. More importantly, Shen ZhenWu used Oration in Nan Ping, and may have used it a few times more since, though I haven’t been keeping track, so why doesn’t he just... I dunno, go around city to city and boost morale with a rousing speech? Patriotism would be the perfect weapon to wield against the Spectres and their whispered lies, and if he feels the task beneath him, I’m sure there are other Imperial Scions with the ability to Orate who could fill in. Instead, we have all these festivals and celebrations to keep spirits high, which is both expensive and possibly ineffective, though I don’t have any facts to prove it either way.

I dunno, it just seems weird that no one thought of this before me. Then again, I could be missing critical information and Oration can’t be used like that for some obvious reason which makes perfect sense, but I’m too stupid to figure out. Oration is pretty much Aura except through speech, so why is regular Aura so restricted in its use, but Oration so versatile, able to share what I felt over losing Qing Qing with everyone in Sinuji? Also, what’s the deal with Luo-Luo’s music and where does it sit on the scale? I hate being the only person asking these questions, mostly because I can’t go anywhere else for answers. Shen ZhenWu and any other Imperial Scion would demand an Oath of servitude the moment I’m able to give one, and while the Brotherhood might be amenable to answering my questions, I can’t get in touch with any of its members. Wugang, a former initiate and current member of Gang Shu’s band of bandits, has no idea how to contact the Brotherhood anymore, because after Vyakhya renounced the Abbot and broke off to join Zhen Shi, every monk in the Empire either returned to the Arid Wastes or defected to the Defiled.

Well... there is one place I could go to for answers, and he’s conveniently right here...

Had I known about the Brotherhood’s internal conflict at the time, I might’ve been less confrontational with the Abbot and maybe gone to visit a monastery, but it’s too late now. I don’t even know if he’s still alive, though at least Gang Shu is recovering from his injuries, albeit slowly and still in hiding. According to Lei Gong, his boss is staying hidden because he can’t risk being seen injured and ailing by any Ancestral Beast, regardless of their allegiance, because the urge to kill a wounded rival is just too overwhelming to resist. Human Divinity’s aren’t driven by instinct, but we humans are a treacherous bunch, so I can’t blame Gang Shu for not wanting to be found.

It’s kind of sad how troubled Ancestral Beasts are, driven by instinct yet cursed with the knowledge and ability to rise above it. The struggle is there for their entire life, and like regular humans, Ancestral Beasts appear to deal with it in different ways, like poor Guan Suo who never truly came to grips with his bestial instincts and still wanted to love his children, while others like Zhu Chanzui don’t even bother trying to understand human nature, much less accept it. For the life of me, I can’t imagine how I would fare in their place, to hold a beautiful child, my child, and feel an almost irresistible urge to end their suffering with my own hands.

And as an added cruel joke, they live so long they get to forget, try again, fail, and re-experience all the pain anew. Nature is brutal, but this is almost too much...

Only now do I realize I’ve just been standing around and pondering in silence while Zhen Shi glowers at the side, though I have no idea how long it’s been since I arrived here. Usually, I have some general gist of seconds and minutes because I’m subconsciously tracking my breaths and heartbeats, but I don’t need to breathe and don’t have a heart here in the Void. I’m a Natal Soul, or a Spiritual entity, with no need for blood or oxygen, and this awareness throws me for a loop as I struggle to remember what it feels like to be alive. What sensation does a beating heart give off? How do I draw air into my lungs and expel it out again? Have I been blinking? If there’s nothing below my feet and nothing above my head, how am I keeping track of up and down?

Stuck in a downward spiral of self realization, I struggle for calm and Balance, but all the breathing exercises in the world won’t help me if I don’t remember how to breathe. My first thought is to panic and seek help, like a man drowning in the ocean and flailing about for anything to grab onto, but I stop short as the world comes into focus and I find myself face to foot with Zhen Shi, with my outstretched hand only scant inches away from taking hold of his. This was his doing, an assault on my emotions after his initial power-posing failed to bear fruit, a means to put me at a disadvantage to do... what exactly? To take my hand? Why? No, it’s not the act of contact that matters here, or else he’d just reach out and grab me, but instead, he sits impatiently and waits for me to take his hand. Again... why? What purpose does this serve? It’s not like either of us are really here, we’re just two Spiritual entities meeting in another plane of existence.

Thinking back on all my experiences in the Void with Natal Palaces and Natal Souls, one parallel immediately springs to mind, and that is my relationship with Baledagh. I was both Warrior and Brother, and even though the Warrior was the stronger of the two, the Brother was always dominant, even when dormant. Baledagh was always the submissive personality, even when I suspected he was my body’s original soul and relied on his strength, because I always identified more with Brother. To this day, that is who I see myself as, the scared, otherworldly personality thrust into an unfamiliar situation, while Baledagh was the native warrior born to this world. Mahakala showed me I was both Brother and Baledagh, but I’m still primarily ‘Brother’ all the time, with hints of Baledagh only showing itself in times of duress, like when Big Poppa Piggy showed up in the Citadel. How is this any different from having a split personality? I don’t even talk to myself less, I just stopped crafting a dialogue between two personalities and monologue my way through all my problems.

Mahakala told me everything I needed to hear, I just wasn’t listening. There is no Brother. There is no Baledagh. There is only Falling Rain. And now, Falling Rain is in danger of becoming the submissive personality to Zhen Shi across from me, just as Baledagh submitted to Brother of my own free will.

“You are one tricky bastard.” Narrowing my eyes at my canny foe, I voice my thoughts as they come to reinforce my understanding of the situation. “Appearing in my dreams uninvited and in a position of power, and leading my thoughts to investigate the inexplicable so I would feel flustered, defenceless and confused, all so you could convince me to submit.”

“Submission would be preferable, but unnecessary for this Sovereign to emerge victorious,” Zhen Shi replies, the smug smile flitting across his face a little too slowly to keep me from seeing his burning disappointment. “Even such minor effort almost bore fruit, with little worm instinctively succumbing to this Sovereign’s superiority. Though you do not care to accept it, you know your true worth. Resistance only delays the inevitable, for when you accept the Truth, little worm will beg for this Sovereign’s aid.”

“You call yourself Sovereign and refer to me as worm, because you think it reinforces our positions as superior and inferior, but I’ve already told you how stupid it sounds when you speak in the third person.” Thinking back on our last meeting, it occurs to me that he does this a lot, which is right out of the abuser’s playbook. “You emphasize your authority and eminence while humiliating and deriding mine in hopes I will devalue myself and hold you in high regard. It works because even in trying to prove you wrong, I am subconsciously accepting your superiority, because there would be no need to disprove your words if you were not an authority figure. In this way, I come to rely on you and crave your approval, or so you hope, but jokes on you. Nothing you say can ever be worse than the things I tell myself.” The smile slips from his face for all of a micro-second as he blinks in surprise, and I can tell even he never put this much thought into his own methods. “It’s funny. A lot of what you do is tailored towards emotional abuse and fostering dependence, rather than actually strong-arming me into submission through outright strength. Last time, you created an entire scenario of death and carnage to drive me towards despair, and I thought it was so I would turn Defiled. Now I’m not so sure anymore.” Raising an eyebrow in mock question, I ask, “Is Gen giving you too much trouble, or are you tired of your meat puppet already? Looking for a new, tighter asshole to keep your hands warm? C’mon now, you should at least buy me dinner first, but I’m telling you now, I’m an old-fashioned guy and never kiss on the first date.”

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The rage and impotence in his reaction is telling, and once again, I’m reminded of how our last meeting went, and the rules of this world become clear to me. This is the Void, a place of impermanence in which thoughts define perception, so get your shit together before you unmake yourself or something. Remember yourself and who you are, and the rest is unimportant. You don’t need to know how everything works, you just need to think and it shall be so.

The teacup disappears from Zhen Shi’s hand, as does the table and chair. Gravity exerts itself and he plummets to the ground, but he lands lightly on one foot and retains his seated position, one leg folded over his knee and unfazed by my display of control. Only now, he’s forced to look up to meet my eyes as I loom over his seated frame, and I can see the anger and vitriol within them. My eyes are drawn away to the shifting patterns on his robes, depicting Defiled and Demons carrying out all manner of horrific atrocities, and it occurs to me that they’re like that to distract and dishearten the same way my clothes are meant to debase and demean. In the blink of an eye, I’m dressed in full, golden armour, but unlike my armour in the real world which is merely a mundane copy of Shen ZhenWu’s Runic armour, this set is the real deal. Why wouldn’t it be? What is a Rune besides a physical Keystone, an object which executes a Chi skill when supplied with Chi? Well, I’m no Runic Craftsman, but here in the Void, creating a Keystone is a simple matter of focus and setting limits.

Deflect impacts. Counter with Reverberation. Constantly Lighten and Reinforce at all times. Out in the real world, a Runic breastplate bearing these properties would probably drain a Martial Warrior dry within minutes of combat, but here in the Void, Heavenly Energy is near limitless thanks to the beauty of recycling. Or something. I don’t really know, or at this moment even care, because I’m busy imbuing the rest of my armour with the same properties, and while I believe I could probably add more, now is not the time for experimentation. Zhen Shi clothed me in dirty rags because image is important here in the Void, where faith and conviction translates into power, so I make sure every detail is just right. My hair slicks back exactly as Luo-Luo would style it, complete with jewelled hair piece to hold it all in place, and silken robes materialize beneath the golden armour, the gentle touch of the fabric cool against my skin. The dragon shoulder pauldrons morph into bears instead, while the dragons on my chest turn into wildcats, rabbits, laughing birds, and a single hare, all sprinkled in the background and frolicking beneath the clouds which were already there. The opened-mouth dragon’s head on my belt turns into a turtle instead, one modelled after sweet Ping Ping rather than distant Pong Pong, and the token on my belt says Legate, because that’s my current title, even if I’d rather not have it.

Without even realizing it, the ‘Liang’ character on my chest has already warped into ‘Rain’ instead, done subconsciously without even needing to think about it, and that more than anything proves my hunch right. Self-identity is everything here, and until now, I’ve always set myself below Zhen Shi, because how could I not? He’s an eight-hundred year old monster and I’m just some guy in over his head, but that’s out there in the real world. Here in the Void, the rules are different, and I would do well not to forget that.

Last but not least, I materialize Peace on my hip, Tranquility on my wrist, and Unity in hand, the weapons surging with power as I stand over Zhen Shi. No, not Zhen Shi, but Gen Shi, either an amalgamation of the two minds and personalities, or quite possibly even just Gen pretending to be Zhen Shi, much like I pretended to be Baledagh and Brother. The only difference is Gen Shi actually has the real deal whispering in his ears, while I was just batshit crazy, and while I might still be crazy, I’m crazy like a fox. “I thought I made things clear the last time we met,” I begin, my confidence building now that I have my familiar weapons in hand once more and I remembered who it is I’m really facing. “But I suppose the real Zhen Shi doesn’t care if he loses a mere Natal Soul. You are no match for me, pretender, not here.” Cocking my head, I ask, “Did you remember to pass along my message, puppet? When can I expect a visit from the real Zhen Shi himself? I’m curious to know how my strength measures up.”

Terrified too, but at least in here, I have a fighting chance, and so long as I still draw breath, I will never give up. Akanai was right. Where there is life, there is hope, and I will do my best never to forget this.

There is no fear in Gen Shi’s eyes, only rage and loathing, but he recovers well enough. “Natal Soul? How... surprisingly apt. It seems the savage has stumbled upon more Truths than this Sovereign even realized.” Re-materializing a new teacup in his hand, Gen Shi flashes that same smug smile, the one Gen always wore now on an unfamiliar face, sipping his tea and quietly daring me to match wills against him once again. Suspecting it won’t be so easy to get rid of now that he’s expecting it, I instead narrow my eyes and set the liquid to boiling, which he wasn’t expecting. Sputtering as the burning hot tea scalds his lips and mouth, he shoots to his feet and grows several times larger in the blink of an eye, but anger is detrimental to control and gives me an opening to bind him in invisible chains of Chi. Check and mate, for he is now powerless as I now hold the upper hand, not just because I took control, but also because he yielded it by allowing my will to affect him.

That’s why Gen Shi plays all those power games, with the nightmares, insults, threats, and power poses. Here in the Void, it’s all about strength of conviction, or even strength of delusion, but there are few people more stubborn or deluded than I.

“You think yourself strong?” Gen Shi begins, hoping to chip away at my convictions with words and doubts. “Falling Rain, the slave turned Legate, how ‘inspiring’. A king of fools is what you are, a puppet dancing to the tune of countless masters. Which one will you serve, little worm? The Dog Emperor who promises nothing and demands everything? Or the Legate who allows you your freedom and independence while slipping the shackles of circumstance around you? Such is their way, coaxing you with noble ideals to bend you to their purpose. One way or another, you will serve, but this Sovereign offers you the freedom you seek, the freedom to rise above all struggles and remain unfettered from all conflicts.”

I assumed he already knew everything about me, but hearing my fears confirmed is still unsettling. Worse, I’m not sure if he slipped up by using the same words the Legate did, or if he picked those exact words because he knew it’d raise suspicions. No, I should disregard everything Gen Shi says, because there is no value in heeding him. “It doesn’t matter how tempting the offer you make, for you are a creature of lies and deceits whose words cannot be trusted.”

“You need not trust this Sovereign.” Smiling all too smugly, Gen Shi shrugs and says, “You only need accept the Truth, beginning with the truth of your current circumstances. Reflect on the events of five days past, little worm, and tell this Sovereign why you think Zhu Chanzui acted when he did.” Something gives my thoughts away, and Gen Shi’s smile widens. “Ah, little worm already suspects, but once again he struggles to accept that which he already knows.” Relaxing in his invisible bonds, Gen Shi says, “You, little worm, were meant to die that day, and only this Sovereign’s intervention saved you.”

“Bullshit.” Well, maybe not, but still. “I suppose all those Wraiths attacking my manor were only trying to get in and warn me?”

Throwing his head back with a laugh, Gen Shi retorts, “Little worm was never their target, else he would have died during the attack on Shen ZhenWu. Your death serves this Sovereign no purpose, but the Divine Turtle poses a real threat.” Narrowing his eyes, he studies me closely and asks, “A curious creature, this newly ascended Divinity, one not of human form. A secret of the Saint’s Tribulations mountains? Or are the rumours true and Nan Ping’s guardian turtle is truly in possession of an Elemental Spirit?”

Luckily, his questions are way off the mark and my reaction is one of surprise and confusion, but I can’t let him keep asking questions to narrow down an answer. “If you’ve nothing else to say, then you can fuck right off like Zhu Chanzui.”

As I raise a hand to finger-flick him away into the void, Gen Shi flinches away and shouts, “Wait! Think, little worm, and know this Sovereign’s words to be true. You think the Five Supreme Families united as one Clan? Their infighting is the sole reason for the Empire’s stagnation, progress halted in the name of keeping the present state of affairs. The Emperor rules, but not without opposition, for there are five Imperial Sigils which allow others to speak with His voice, dividing His power between his most dangerous rivals. Shen ZhenWu is the most likely heir to the throne, but he is not the only claimant and his succession is far from secure. To strengthen his position, he seeks to win over the outer provinces and add their voices to his cause, and what better way than to champion one of their own?”

Though I do my best to ignore him, I’m intrigued by his claims, and I can’t help but listen intently as he reveals so much about my mysterious patron. “Shen ZhenWu meant for you to die during your ill-fated rebellion,” Gen Shi claims, though I note he offers no proof or conjecture. “My Chosen failed their mission and he seized the opportunity before him, ridding himself of his bothersome Dharma Protector, Yang Zaixing, and convincing his hallowed ancestor to encourage the foolish Yang Jixing to act. Fools one and all, you and Jixing took the bait as expected, driving the Empire towards a civil war which could only end in disaster. Were it not for Goujian’s interference and Zhu Chanzui’s timely interruption, you and several high-ranking members of the Northern Imperial Army would have fallen to Jixing’s forces that day, only for Shen ZhenWu to arrive at the last moment and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. You and your people would have served as both martyr and warning, held up as a shining example of how the Imperial Clan mistreats its people, and with his Sealed document declaring you his successor, that would have been all he needed to rally the outer provinces behind him, the only Imperial fighting for the interests of the outer provinces.”

Compelling as his claims might be, I can’t help but once again notice the distinct lack of proof, not to mention the glaring hole in his logic. “You’re so full of shit. If not for your Wraiths, Jixing would still be alive and there would have been no justification for the Death Corps to attack. By then, it was clear the Disciplinary Corps made an unlawful arrest, and once word got out that he’d lost the confidence of the entire Northern province, Jixing would’ve been left with no choice but to release my father and relinquish his rank. If not, South and Central would’ve rallied behind me, risking civil war from all three outer provinces and secession from the Empire itself.” Curling my lip in a sneer, I loom over Gen Shi and say, “And even if it came down to rebellion, I would sooner take my chances than ally myself with you.”

“Why? Because you believe me evil?” Cackling in villainous delight, Gen Shi shakes his head and gestures at me with his chin. “Look at yourself, here and now, standing in all your power and glory. This is the True Falling Rain, the Devourer, the Predator, yet you constrain yourself with human concepts like honour, justice, mercy, and integrity. This power is yours to wield, but you refuse it because you believe it will corrupt and profane you, but nature itself is not so clean and pristine. Nature is cruel and merciless, where only the strong survive, and so long as you burden yourself with false ideals, you will never reach your true potential.”

“You’re right to say nature is cruel and merciless, but you must not have been listening when I spoke with Zhu Chanzui.” Gesturing at the animals depicted on my Runic armour, I explain, “We humans are beasts, but we have the potential to be so much more, and it is in aspiring to greatness that we elevate ourselves above the wolf and sheep. You say I am weak because I refuse to give in to temptation, but I call you weak for succumbing to it. Do you even remember why you started down this path?”

“To overthrow the Dog Emperor,” Gen Shi snarls, his expression one I can only describe as violence personified, “And cleanse away the weakness of the human race.”

“To what end?” Seeing his confusion, I clarify, “Why did you want to rid the human race of weakness? Was it not so we could defeat the Defiled?”

“Defiled, hmph.” Ignoring the question, Gen Shi snorts in derision. “Another lie perpetrated by the Empire. The so called Defiled are merely the other side of the coin, for too much is as bad as not enough. The razor’s edge, that is this Sovereign’s Path, and with it, I will raze this world clean of all...”

It’s sad how easy it is to set Gen Shi off, the cracks in his facade clearer than ever as he refuses to acknowledge the question, because he doesn’t know the answer. This isn’t really Zhen Shi, or an amalgamation of Zhen Shi and Gen, this is just Gen deluding himself into believing as much after being given just enough information to make it seem real. The real Zhen Shi is probably listening in and whispering into Gen’s ear to help him sell himself the lie, but at the end of the day, this is what happened after Gen accepted defeat. The Spectres demanded his surrender, and he did, because he couldn’t come to grips with reality. As I saw with Bei, the Spectres have no power besides that which we give them, and Gen has surrendered everything he has, including his very identity.

If this were the real Zhen Shi, I might be tempted to share my discovery with him, one made during my debate with Zhu Chanzui regarding human concepts. In the end, we Martial Warriors are too fixated on the Martial Path, when instead we should focus on the Dao itself. Dao is a tricky concept I thought I more or less understood, but understanding is not the same as comprehension. Dao can be translated as Path, but at the root of the concept, Dao refers to the underlying natural order of the universe, the rules which govern reality as we know it. The Dao is everything, and therefore is present in everything, whether it be an elite Martial Warrior Demonstrating the Forms, the flowing fingers of an accomplished musician, or even the practised movements of an experienced tailor. We focus on the Movements of the Forms to find Insight, but the same wisdom can be found in the flapping wings of a laughing bird, the ambling gait of a roosequin, the smooth sculling of a swimming turtle, or the ungainly flop of a bicorn bunny. One can even find the Dao in notes strummed along a zither or the wind moving through a bamboo grove, in the interplay of light and shadow or the rhythm of a cleansing rainfall. The Dao is everywhere and in everything, which means the Martial Path is not the only Path laid out before me.

I think, at one point, Zhen Shi might have understood this fundamental truth, but in his pursuit of strength, he lost sight of his noble goal, to raise humanity strength as a whole by studying the Defiled. Perhaps he was corrupted by the knowledge and driven mad by Spectres, or maybe he’s as clear-headed as he’s always been and was a monster in human flesh from the start. It doesn’t matter, because regardless of the circumstances, I will stand against him. Humanity should hold themselves to high ideals like honour, justice, and integrity, because even though we are flawed, we still yearn to improve, and that, more than anything, is what it means to be human.

Gen couldn’t accept his flaws, so he deluded himself into believing a pleasant lie, but I’ve learned that denial only goes so far. Better to face the harsh truth now, because it’s not going away anytime soon.

“Thank you,” I say, interrupting Gen’s long-winded rant. “I appreciate the visit, because you’ve helped answer a few questions I didn’t even know I had, and now I’ve found my Path.” Smiling as I raise a hand, I add, “I’m not sure what would happen if I killed you here and now, but somehow, I feel like that’s what Zhen Shi wants. I certainly can’t come up with another reason why he would send you here, where you are utterly helpless to defend yourself. Luckily for you Gen, I am stubborn and contrary even on my best of days, so I’ll be sending you off now, and you will never return.” Saying it out loud solidifies it in my mind, and I know my words will prove true so long as I hold to my convictions. Gen Shi can only get in because I subconsciously wanted to seek him out for advice. That’s why having his notes is frowned upon, because by learning from Zhen Shi, he becomes something of an authority figure in our minds. Here in the Azure Empire, people venerate their teachers and mentors which gives Zhen Shi, and by extension Gen Shi, the upper hand in discussions like these, but luckily for me, I’m from a different world where we treat teachers like crap.

Before he can get a word in edgewise, I flick his forehead and send him rocketing out into the Void and back from whence he came, which as Baledagh once informed me, is an ‘unsettling’ experience. Good. I spared his life this time not because I don’t want to kill him, but because Zhen Shi seems to want Gen Shi dead. Also, I would very much like to kill Gen in real life, with my own hands, if possible. I’m no saint, and have never professed to be one, so while I know revenge probably won’t make me feel any better, so long as I get to watch Gen die, then that’s good enough for me.

With Gen Shi out of the way, I force myself to take a deep breath and clear my thoughts before turning in a circle to slowly take in my surroundings. Empty, white nothingness to some, but to my eyes, all I see is a blank canvas ready to be painted, with endless potential laid out before me. Consciously choosing to do nothing right now, I will myself out of the Void and back into the waking world, where I find Ping Ping standing on my chest, squeaking mournfully in distress, then happiness while Mom, Akanai, Song, Lin-Lin, and Luo-Luo look on in concern. Smiling at my beloved family, I stroke Ping Ping’s cheeks and say, “Sorry for making you all worry. I can explain but um... is it still the same night? I haven’t been sleeping for a week or anything, have I?”

“No child,” Mom says, hugging me tight only seconds after Lin-Lin launches herself into my arms. “I bade you goodnight not two hours ago, and the Guardian Turtle raised the alarm less than a minute past.”

“Ah good, good.” Pausing to collect my thoughts, I turn to what looks like an empty corner and say, “First things first. Kuang Biao?”

“Yes, Legate?”

Appearing in that same corner, Kuang Biao looks visibly flustered by my ability to find him in Concealment, but explanations will have to wait. “You had a lion, didn’t you? When you were a Royal Guardian?”

“Yes, Legate.”

“Good. Ready the Death Corps and Royal Guardians, then go fetch your lion using my authority as Legate. I intend to take personal command of Central’s reinforcements, and they march at first light, so we don’t have much time to prepare.” I don’t give a shit if it’s against protocol, I’m the Legate and I want Kuang Biao to have his lion mount, and not just because I want to pet one. Turning to Akanai, I add, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you care to join us, Mother-in-Law? I’ve been away from the battlefield for too long, and I will feel better with the People there with me.”

Nodding without speaking, Akanai offers me the barest hint of an approving smile, which I only catch a glimpse of before Mom’s hands clamp my cheeks. “Enough,” she says, her hands trembling from concern. “What happened while you were asleep? And why return to the battlefield now?” A note of hope enters her eyes as her expectations rise. “Are you...?”

So nervous she can’t even say it, she leaves me to fill in the blanks, and I offer her my biggest smile and ask, “Healed?” Taking her hands without letting my smile falter, I look Mom square in the eyes and say, “Nope.”

Only to immediately lean back to avoid the predictable rap to the head, but alas, I am but a mere mortal and no match for my Peak Expert mom when it comes to speed and strength as her knuckles knock lightly against my skull.

Still, mortal I may be, but if my hunch is right, then we mere mortals have our own strengths, for the Dao encompasses everything...

Chapter Meme