Yin Lie did not wake up.
That was the first sign something was wrong.
His eyes remained half-lidded, unfocused, breath shallow and uneven. Whatever consciousness he had left drifted far below the surface, trapped somewhere his body could no longer report back from.
And yet—
he moved.
The Instinct That Survives the Mind
It began with temperature.
The air around Qin Mian dropped sharply, frost forming in thin, branching patterns across the floor beneath her knees. Not explosive. Not aggressive.
Protective.
Kai felt it first—pressure against her skin, a subtle resistance that hadn't been there before.
"…He's doing something," she said quietly.
Qin Mian looked down.
Yin Lie's fingers twitched.
Slow. Uncoordinated.
But deliberate.
No Thought, Only Response
There was no surge of power.
No roar of distortion.
The drift inside Yin Lie did not expand—it contracted, folding inward like a wounded animal curling around its chest.
His heartbeat skipped.
Then steadied.
And with it, the space around him began to behave… incorrectly.
Containment fields nearest to his body flickered.
Not shattered.
Rejected.
They slid away from his presence by centimeters, like magnets repelling at close range.
Kai stepped back instinctively.
"This isn't him thinking," she murmured.
"This is reflex."
Qin Mian Triggers It Without Meaning To
Qin Mian shifted her grip, trying to adjust his weight against her shoulder.
The moment her movement became unstable—
the reaction came.
Ice surged outward violently, not in a wave, but in lines, snapping into existence between her and every nearby threat vector.
A hunter ten meters away was slammed backward as space warped, his weapon freezing mid-fire before shattering in his hands.
Qin Mian screamed.
"Stop—! Lie, stop!"
He didn't hear her.
The City Identifies a New Threat
Alerts spiked across multiple channels.
AUTONOMOUS DEFENSE RESPONSE DETECTED
SOURCE: SUBJECT YIN LIE
COGNITIVE STATE: UNRESPONSIVE
Analysts stared in disbelief.
"He's unconscious," one whispered.
"How is he—"
"Because it's not conscious," another replied.
The Director's eyes narrowed.
"…It's a protection loop."
The Body Chooses Targets
The instinct did not attack randomly.
It evaluated.
Anything moving too fast.
Anything closing distance.
Anything aligned with Qin Mian's stress spikes.
Hunters froze mid-step as invisible pressure crushed joints, pinned them to walls, or locked them in place with sudden, impossible cold.
Not lethal.
Yet.
The body was not trying to kill.
It was trying to remove risk.
Qin Mian Realizes the Danger
Her breath came fast, panicked.
"…He's hurting them because of me," she whispered.
Kai shook her head.
"No," she said grimly.
"He's hurting everything that makes you unsafe."
Qin Mian felt it then—the Anchor inside her responding to his reaction, resonance bouncing back and forth in unstable loops.
This wasn't coordination.
This was feedback on feedback.
If it continued—
"He'll tear himself apart," Qin Mian said.
Kai didn't deny it.
The First Loss of Control
Yin Lie's body jerked suddenly.
Ice exploded outward, fracturing the floor as distortion folded space inward. A nearby support column snapped in half, collapsing with a deafening crash.
Yin Lie coughed violently.
Blood splattered across the ice.
His body was protecting her.
At the cost of itself.
The Director Issues a Limited Command
"Pull back all units within twenty meters," the Director ordered sharply.
"Director—if we retreat—"
"He is no longer an attacker," she said.
"He is a hazard radius."
The hunters obeyed.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The moment they retreated beyond a certain distance, the pressure eased.
The ice stopped spreading.
Qin Mian Tries to Anchor Him
Qin Mian pressed her forehead against Yin Lie's.
"Lie," she whispered desperately.
"I'm here. I'm safe. You don't have to—"
Her Anchor pulsed.
Gently.
She wasn't stabilizing the city.
She was trying to stabilize him.
For a moment—
it worked.
The frost receded a few centimeters.
His breathing steadied.
Then the Instinct Rejected Even Her
A sudden spike of pain tore through Qin Mian's chest.
She cried out as the Anchor flared sharply, rejected by the very feedback she was trying to soothe.
Yin Lie's body reacted instantly.
Ice surged again.
This time—
toward her.
Kai moved without thinking, grabbing Qin Mian and yanking her backward just as a spike of frozen distortion ripped through the space she had been kneeling in.
Qin Mian stared in horror.
"…He almost—"
Kai nodded grimly.
"He doesn't know who you are anymore," she said.
"He only knows threat."
End of the Chapter
Yin Lie lay unconscious at the center of a widening frozen radius, blood staining the ice beneath him.
His body continued to react.
To breathe.
To defend.
Qin Mian stood shaking at the edge of that radius, tears streaming freely.
"He's protecting me," she whispered.
"But if this keeps going…"
Kai finished the thought quietly.
"He'll kill himself doing it."
Above them, the Director watched in silence.
Because this was no longer a hunt.
It was a countdown.
And unless someone made a choice soon—
the instinct meant to save Qin Mian
would be the thing that destroyed Yin Lie completely.