The air around them felt charged, electric, as if the very ground beneath their feet was holding its breath. Tianwu stood in the clearing, the distant hum of the forest a stark contrast to the stillness between him and Lei Xu. The years, the distance, the enmity—everything hung suspended in that one moment, and Tianwu found himself at the center of it all, facing the man who had once been his sworn enemy and his most cherished love.
Lei Xu's eyes, dark as the abyss, flickered with something that might have been regret, but it was impossible to tell. He had always been a master of masks, of hiding his true feelings beneath layers of impassive detachment. Yet Tianwu could feel the remnants of what had once bound them—what still connected them—clinging to the air between them like a web of unspoken truths.
"You've grown," Lei Xu remarked, his voice smooth, almost disinterested, as if he were commenting on something insignificant. "But you still wear that mask of righteousness."
Tianwu clenched his fists, resisting the urge to lash out. "I've shed the mask you left behind," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm not the same man I was."
Lei Xu's lips curled into a half-smile, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Is that so? Perhaps you've forgotten who you truly are."
The words stung more than Tianwu was willing to admit. He didn't know if it was the accusation in Lei Xu's tone or the weight of his own guilt that made his heart falter. Had he truly changed? Had he managed to escape the ghosts of his past life, or had they simply been buried beneath the surface, waiting to rise again?
"You never answered my question," Tianwu said, his voice steadying as he pushed through the tumult of his emotions. "Why did we become enemies? What happened between us?"
Lei Xu's gaze hardened, his expression shifting from the indifference of a moment ago to something darker, something more familiar. There was a flicker in his eyes, a flash of recognition, and for the briefest moment, Tianwu saw the man he had once loved.
"You think you know the story, Tianwu?" Lei Xu's voice was quiet, dangerous. "You think you can understand what happened between us? You were never meant to remember, not until the time was right."
Tianwu's mind reeled. "The time is now," he said, stepping forward, his gaze unwavering. "I deserve to know the truth. After everything, after all the pain... I deserve to know why."
Lei Xu's eyes darkened, and for a moment, Tianwu saw a flicker of something—regret? Sadness? But just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished. "You think you can handle it? The truth is far darker than you know."
Before Tianwu could respond, a soft rustling noise came from the shadows at the edge of the clearing. Tianwu's heart skipped a beat, his senses on high alert. He turned sharply, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword, but before he could draw it, a figure emerged from the darkness.
It was a man, tall and lean, with silver hair that gleamed under the moonlight. His eyes—those piercing golden eyes—locked onto Tianwu's with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. There was something almost familiar about him, but Tianwu couldn't place it.
"Lei Xu," the man spoke, his voice smooth but laced with authority. "It's time to end this charade."
Tianwu's pulse quickened as he realized that this man wasn't just anyone. There was a dangerous aura about him, one that reeked of power and the kind of presence that made the very air around them grow heavy. His instincts screamed at him that this was no ordinary person—he was something more. A god, perhaps?
Lei Xu's face darkened at the sight of the newcomer. "You should not have come," he murmured, though his words were more a statement of fact than a plea.
The stranger's gaze shifted to Tianwu, his lips curving into a cold smile. "Ah, the God of War," he mused, his voice dripping with mockery. "I've heard much about you."
Tianwu's mind raced, and the tension in the clearing thickened. This man knew who he was. But how? And why had Lei Xu been so cautious?
"What is this?" Tianwu demanded, his voice hard, his grip tightening on his sword. "Who are you?"
The man gave him a mocking bow, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself properly. I am Zhen, the God of Blades. And I've come to make sure that the past is never resurrected."
Tianwu's stomach twisted with a sudden, bone-deep sense of dread. The God of Blades? That name struck a chord deep within him, a long-buried memory stirring to life. Zhen had been one of the greatest generals in the celestial armies, a force to be reckoned with. But the fact that he stood here now, in the mortal realm, was a dire sign.
"You have no place here," Lei Xu spat, his voice suddenly fierce. "This is between Tianwu and me. You should leave."
Zhen's smile only grew. "Leave? I don't think so. Not when I have something to settle with both of you."
The air around them seemed to crackle with an unseen tension. Tianwu's mind whirled. Why was Zhen here? What did he mean by "settling something"? And why had Lei Xu been so quick to want him gone?
Before Tianwu could demand answers, Zhen moved, faster than Tianwu could react. In a flash, he was standing right before Lei Xu, his blade—a long, curved weapon that glinted darkly—pressed lightly against the other god's throat.
Tianwu's heart raced, and before he knew it, he was moving, his body propelled forward by instinct alone. "Stop!" he shouted, his voice sharp with authority. "Zhen, don't do this!"
Zhen's golden eyes flicked to him, and for the first time, they were cold—cold as death itself. "You think you can stop me?" he asked, his voice low, filled with amusement. "You don't understand, do you? This was always meant to happen."
Tianwu froze, his breath catching in his throat. What did Zhen mean by that? Had this whole confrontation been orchestrated from the very beginning? And what was his true connection to Lei Xu?
Before Tianwu could process the situation further, a rush of dark energy filled the clearing, swirling like a storm. It was so intense, so overwhelming, that Tianwu staggered back, his breath caught in his throat. His senses were assaulted by memories, by flashes of battles fought in a time long forgotten. And in those flashes, there was Zhen—there was the God of Blades, standing beside them in another life, another war.
The storm of energy intensified, and Tianwu's vision blurred. The truth was starting to unfold before him, but it was like trying to piece together a shattered mirror. Bits and pieces of memories, long lost to time, were rising to the surface—painful, fragmented, yet undeniably real.
Zhen's voice broke through the storm. "This is what you've forgotten, Tianwu. This is the price of your rebirth."
To be continued...