Yuan Xuelan was sick of the disjointed feeling of being thrown into utter darkness. Air became stifling, and his weak limbs floated in nothingness.
What now? He thought bitterly, feeling painfully hopeless against the pull of the Mirage Temple. If he could, he would cleave away the illusion and sever all doubt that festered within his heart.
Alas, reality was not so simple.
This time, he found himself standing beneath towering pillars. It was dark, but not because of night. The room in which he stood did not allow sunlight to trickle through the cracks, and it took a moment for Yuan Xuelan's eyes to adjust.
The curved face of tall statues slowly unveiled from the darkness, bits of dust catching on the barest of light that fought its way inside. The towering statue was of a familiar male figure in a dancing, fighting pose. A butterfly mask hung on the top of his head. A handsome but fearsome visage was unveiled. Not that Yuan Xuelan cared.
