The early morning light barely illuminated the edges of the Earth Division's quarters, but Yin Yue was already on the move. She kept her steps light, her posture calm, but inside, her thoughts were anything but still. The images from her vision the night before—streams of light, the towering statue, the echoing voice—lingered like shadows she couldn't shake.
She had tried to push them aside, to focus on training with the others, but the parchment sat in the back of her mind like a spark waiting to ignite. And now it wasn't just curiosity that drove her forward—it was necessity.
The sigil, the voice, the cryptic warning—it wasn't coincidence. This symbol, this power, had roots deeper than anything the academy taught openly. And the only way to uncover the truth was to go where no one dared to look.
The archives.
System Notification:
Subject Yin Yue – trajectory monitored. Destination identified with 89% accuracy.
Li Tian's eyes remained closed, his breathing measured as the system fed him a steady stream of updates. Each move Yin Yue made tightened the metaphorical ropes around her. If she kept pressing where she shouldn't, others would take notice. They already were.
System Update:
Additional surveillance measures detected from leadership factions. Surveillance priority – Earth Division, emphasis on Council focus subject "Li Tian."
His brow furrowed slightly, but only for a moment. They were probing now, less subtle than before. His meeting with the senior council had already set their suspicions aflame. It was only a matter of time before Yin Yue's actions triggered a chain reaction.
There was no easy solution. To shelter her completely would draw more suspicion, but doing nothing might draw her even farther into danger. Quietly, he rose and walked to his desk, setting his hand atop the worn wood.
"Open contingency strategies," he said softly.
The system pulsed its compliance, evaluating inputs from all angles. Even as it offered paths to mitigate the looming threats from the academy's leadership, it brought his focus back to Yin Yue.
Yin Yue, who carried a blade of fierce resolve in her heart. Yin Yue, who was sharp enough to see the cracks forming, but not yet wise enough to avoid stepping into their depths. He would have to act soon. But until then, he could only watch the threads tighten.
The archives of the academy weren't forbidden, not technically—but to dig beyond the neatly cataloged records required more than just access. It required defiance.
Yin Yue entered through the main hall, her steps hesitant as she approached the towering shelves. The air here felt different—thicker, quieter, as though sound itself was swallowed before it could echo.
She traced her hand along the spines of the old tomes, her eyes scanning titles and sigils etched into their bindings. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of records here. She would need more time than she could afford to sift through them all—unless she focused.
Her vision came back to her then, like a whisper against her consciousness. The streams of light, the glowing sigil at their center, the deep voice calling attention to cracks and control.
The sigil.
Yin Yue turned her attention to the sorting ledgers at the end of each shelf. It took time, but soon her efforts rewarded her with a clue—a section dedicated to pre-academy relics. Even among the titles, it was apparent this subject wasn't common knowledge.
"Principles of Elemental Eternity," she read aloud, her voice barely above a breath. "Constructs of Balance… Continuum Theory…"
Her fingers brushed against a fragile-looking tome near the center of the shelf. Its title had faded but she could make out faint impressions in the leather binding. The fragments whispered at a forgotten name— The Shard of Alignment.
Pulling it free, she opened it to find tightly written symbols and diagrams faintly reminiscent of the shifting parchment. Many of the pages were fragmented, entire sections ruined or removed, but what remained was enough.
One phrase kept repeating in subtly different forms as Yin Yue poured through the bits that survived.
"A great ripple, begun from the Earth. That which is buried may yet rise."
The sigil adorned nearly every diagram, a crude version of what she had seen on the parchment. It seemed to be a marker for some kind of primordial power, tied to an ancient force that predated the academy itself.
Her breath caught. The Earth Division's rise, their meteoric success—it wasn't just training. It wasn't even just Li Tian. There was something… connected.
The noise of the world outside faded until she became aware of something else. A pull. It started faint, almost undetectable, luring her toward the far end of the archives where the oldest records should have been. Shutting the tome, she slid it back onto the shelf and followed the unseen thread.
She slowed as she reached a shadowed corner of the archive, her instincts prickling. At first glance, the wall ahead was solid stone, but the spell of silence was broken by the faintest whisper of air leaking through tiny cracks.
She ran her hands along the cool surface and felt a shiver of energy race up her spine as her palm grazed an almost invisible indentation. Slowly, she pressed.
A deep rumble filled the air, muffled by layers of age and stone. The wall shifted inward, revealing a narrow passageway that descended sharply into dim light.
It felt almost alive, this place, as though it had waited for someone like her to find it. Her grip tightened on the hilt of her blade as she stepped forward. Each step echoed softly against the stone, the sound growing quieter the deeper she traveled.
When she finally emerged, the chamber stunned her into stillness.
The walls were covered in symbols, sprawling from floor to ceiling, their eerie resemblance to the ones on the parchment undeniable. An uneven platform dominated the center of the room, and as it pulsed faintly, a voice, quiet and familiar, reached her ears.
"Yin Yue…"
Her name, carried on air that didn't stir. She turned sharply, her pulse quickening.
"Who's there?" she demanded. Her voice echoed, but no answer came. Instead, the glowing symbols brightened in response.
The same voice came again, softer this time. "The ripples grow, and the balance shifts…"
Yin Yue stood frozen, her mind buzzing with a thousand questions. But she didn't know what was more terrifying—the voice that seemed to know her name, or the messages written long before she was even born, waiting for her discovery.
From a distance, Li Tian sat quietly in his quarters, his system a soft hum in his mind.
System Update:
Subject Yin Yue has engaged forbidden structure. Unpredictable variables increased to 75%.
His hand tightened slightly. "Connect and monitor. No interference yet," he said quietly, though a growing unease gnawed at the corner of his thoughts.
The storm was no longer approaching.
It was here.