Getting Yun Lan into an Anima Clan formation turned out to be easy.
He opened the door on the morning of the third day before Alignment. The dimensional rift hummed faintly in the corner of the room, a stable tear he'd maintained since their arrival, hidden behind wards that blended with the Anima district's natural qi flows. Azrail had checked it twice that morning, ensuring no fluctuations from the Dominion's twilight energies. Stability was key; a glitch could alert patrols or worse, strand someone mid-transfer.
His mother stepped through, emerging fully in one fluid motion, her qi settling into the space like a cool front moving in. Yun Lan wore simple palace robes, practical for training, her hair tied back, no ornaments—efficient, as always.
