The temple let them go, but it did not release them.
Hours later, after Mei vanished into the mist like a candle snuffed in wind, Yuren sat on the cracked edge of a stone fountain in silence. The courtyard had long been overtaken by weeds and roots, but it felt less haunted than the corridors below.
Zhaoyan stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the door they'd exited through like it might attack them again.
Yuren hadn't spoken since the vision.
Finally, Zhaoyan broke the silence.
"You should've told me."
Yuren didn't move. "Told you what? That I've been dreaming of a burning woman who might be me but also definitely isn't?"
"Yes," Zhaoyan said simply. "Exactly that."
Yuren ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I thought it was trauma from that mirror demon thing. Or stress. Or maybe I'd finally gone crazy. But not—" He stopped. Swallowed. "Not this."
Zhaoyan's voice softened. "I wouldn't have judged you."
Yuren gave a short, bitter laugh. "No, but you would've worried. You always do."
"I'm worrying now."
"Well, congratulations," Yuren muttered, "you're finally caught up."
They fell into another silence, this one heavier. The sky above was cloudy, light filtered in soft and gray.
"…Do you believe her?" Yuren asked finally.
Zhaoyan didn't answer right away. "I don't know," he admitted. "I believe something happened. And I believe that orb—whatever it was—showed us more than memories. It felt like being inside a promise that had already broken."
Yuren looked at him. "So what now? I accept that I'm some kind of ancient fire goddess reincarnation and… what, ascend? Explode?"
Zhaoyan's lips twitched. "Maybe just try not to explode yet."
Yuren snorted. Then sighed. "I don't want to be someone else."
"You're not."
"You saw what I was in that vision. That woman—she burned everything."
Zhaoyan's gaze didn't waver. "She also laughed. Even while she burned."
"Yeah. That's not comforting."
"It is to me." Zhaoyan stepped closer, his voice quiet. "Because it means even in the worst moment of her life, she held on to something. Maybe joy. Maybe love. Maybe defiance. Whatever it was—it's still in you."
Yuren opened his mouth—then froze.
The ground beneath them rumbled.
Just once. Subtle. Like a pulse.
Both of them sprang up.
Zhaoyan turned toward the trees, scanning. "That wasn't the temple."
"No," Yuren said. "It came from under it."
---
They didn't want to go back.
But they did.
The hidden corridor had sealed shut, but Mei's voice—whispered through the walls—guided them. "Further. Not through memory, but root. Find what they tried to bury."
Zhaoyan's blade carved through thick vines blocking a stairwell none of them had seen before. The air here was colder. Damp.
The staircase curved downward in tight, suffocating spirals.
Eventually, it opened into a vast underground cavern.
And at its center…
A stone coffin.
Massive. Covered in runes.
Chained shut.
Yuren stepped closer instinctively, as if something inside called to him.
Zhaoyan grabbed his arm. "Wait. That thing is—"
But the moment Yuren's fingers grazed the stone, the coffin breathed.
The chains snapped tight.
Runes glowed.
And then—
A sound like weeping filled the cavern.
Not human.
Not spirit.
Something older.
Something still trapped.
Yuren stumbled back. "What is that?"
Zhaoyan stared at the coffin, face pale. "It's not a seal."
"What?"
"It's a prison."
The weeping grew louder. Angrier.
The air heated, walls trembling.
And then—a voice. It clawed into their minds, not spoken aloud, but pressed in like thunder against their skulls.
"Heir of Flame. You've awakened the blood. The promise. You are not hers yet, but you will be. When the ash returns. When the sky splits."
Yuren fell to his knees, clutching his head.
Zhaoyan swung his sword wide in warning, even though he knew it wouldn't matter.
The voice faded. The pressure vanished.
Silence returned.
Yuren gasped as breath returned to him. "I—I saw something. Inside the coffin. A shape. No face. But it knew me."
Zhaoyan pulled him upright. "We're leaving. Now."
As they climbed back toward the surface, Yuren glanced over his shoulder.
The coffin glowed faintly—like a beast watching from behind bars, waiting.
---
That night, neither of them slept.
Yuren sat near the temple's outer courtyard, staring into the fire.
Zhaoyan approached quietly, two mugs of warm tea in his hands.
Yuren took one without speaking.
After a long while, he whispered, "If I become her—if I lose myself—what will you do?"
Zhaoyan looked at him, serious. "Then I'll fight to get you back."
"And if you can't?"
Zhaoyan smiled faintly. "Then I'll be the idiot who follows a flaming goddess into the end of the world."
Yuren choked on a laugh.
And for a moment, the fire between them felt less heavy.
But above them, in the clouds—
The moon was bleeding.
To be continued...