The snow around Ruo Han glowed silver-blue, every flake catching light from the impossible thing above them.
A second moon.
Fainter than the real one, yet wrong in a way that made the skin crawl — its light was too sharp, too cold, as if it pierced straight into bone.
Lan Xiyue steadied Ruo Han, feeling the tremors in his body.
Xiyue: "Ruo Han—look at me. Stay awake."
Feng Lian crouched on his other side, eyes fixed upward.
Feng Lian: "This isn't a celestial illusion… it's the Heaven's Vein itself, showing through."
Xiyue's gaze snapped to him.
Xiyue: "That's impossible. The Heaven's Vein lies sealed beneath the Eight Sect Pact."
Feng Lian's smile was humorless.
Feng Lian: "And yet here we stand under its shadow. Your sect's seals are cracking."
A low hum pulsed in the air again — not sound, but pressure — making the blood in their veins feel heavier. Ruo Han winced, clutching his chest.
Ruo Han: "It's calling… I can hear it…"
Xiyue gripped his wrist, firm.
Xiyue: "Ignore it. It's not your voice to answer."
But Feng Lian's gaze softened, strangely.
Feng Lian: "If he can hear it, it means the Vein has marked him. Neither of us can change that."
The second moon pulsed once, as if in answer — and then the glow shattered, scattering into the snow like broken glass.
The courtyard was quiet again, but the three of them knew what it meant.
The Heaven's Vein had chosen.
And the Eight Sect Pact was already beginning to unravel.