I woke up choking.
Not on air—on weight.
Reality slammed into me like a sealed coffin, pressure pressing from every direction. My bones creaked. My vision blurred. For a split second, I thought the Forgotten Node had crushed me entirely.
Then I felt it.
The ground was breathing.
Slow. Deep. Vast.
I forced my eyes open and sucked in a sharp breath. Cold mist flooded my lungs, carrying the metallic tang of raw energy. I rolled onto my side and coughed, palms digging into soil that pulsed faintly beneath my touch.
Soil.
Not stone.
Not memory.
Real.
I pushed myself up, heart pounding, and the world finally came into focus.
I was standing in a valley carved directly into the Outer Veil itself.
Jagged cliffs ringed the basin like broken fangs, their surfaces etched with glowing veins that throbbed in rhythm with the sky above. The violet firmament churned slowly, clouds folding inward as if the heavens were watching their own reflection.
And at the center of the valley—
I froze.
A colossal structure rose from the earth, half-buried, half-awake. It wasn't a tower or a hall. It was something older. The surface was smooth but fractured, marked by deep grooves that resembled veins more than architecture.
It looked less like a building.
And more like a heart.
The mark on my hand ignited.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Location Confirmed: Veil Core Periphery
Structure Identified: Boundary Anchor
Synchronization Level: 37% → 38%
A Boundary Anchor.
My breath hitched.
This was what stabilized regions of the Outer Veil. What kept the chaos from swallowing entire zones. I had read fragments about them in the Hall's memories—but those Anchors were supposed to be dormant.
This one wasn't.
The ground shuddered.
A deep, resonant pulse rolled through the valley, vibrating straight through my bones. I staggered, barely keeping my footing as the Anchor responded to my presence.
Not aggressively.
Instinctively.
As if it recognized something it had been waiting for.
"No…" I muttered. "You're not reacting to me."
I clenched my hand, focusing inward.
I felt it then.
The change.
The partial reintegration hadn't just given me memories—it had altered my state. The Veil no longer treated me as an intruder. I wasn't fully accepted, but I was no longer foreign.
I was… compatible.
The realization sent a chill through me.
"Li Wei."
I spun.
Xian Yu stood at the edge of the valley, cloak torn, hair streaked with silver dust. Her breathing was steady, but her eyes—sharp as ever—were fixed on the Anchor with unmistakable caution.
Behind her, Shuang emerged from the mist, talismans orbiting erratically, their glow unstable.
"You disappeared," Xian Yu said. "One moment you were there—then the Veil
folded in on itself."
"How long?" I asked.
She hesitated. "Long enough for the Warden to kneel."
That made my chest tighten.
I glanced instinctively toward the cliffs.
And there it was.
The Boundary Warden stood atop the stone ridge, massive frame silhouetted against the sky. Its golden eye burned brighter than ever—but it wasn't watching the Anchor.
It was watching me.
Not with judgment.
With vigilance.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
External Guardian Status: Aligned
Threat Level: Conditional (Non-Hostile)
Shuang stepped closer, her voice low.
"The Veil is unstable. Ever since you returned, the energy patterns have gone wild. This place shouldn't even be accessible."
I looked back at the Anchor.
It pulsed again.
Stronger.
"I think it opened because I was nearby," I said.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
The truth was already heavy in the air.
I took a step forward.
Immediately, the valley reacted.
The mist parted. The ground firmed beneath my feet. The Anchor's pulse synchronized with my heartbeat, each thump echoing outward like a command.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Boundary Anchor Responding
Access State: Restricted
Override Condition: Partial Authority Detected
Authority.
That word again.
Every instinct screamed at me to stop, to pull back before I crossed a line I couldn't uncross. But the memories within me—the ones I had reclaimed and the ones still locked—pushed me forward.
"This thing is wounded," I said slowly.
Xian Yu frowned. "What do you mean?"
I placed my hand against the Anchor's surface.
The moment skin met stone, the world exploded into sensation.
Pain.
Heat.
Pressure.
And underneath it all—fatigue.
Not mine.
The Anchor's.
Images flooded my mind.
I saw endless cycles of suppression—waves of Veil distortion crashing against the Anchor, forcing it to compensate, to seal, to stabilize without rest. I saw fragments of entities clawing at reality's edge, repelled again and again at the cost of the Anchor's integrity.
It had been holding this region together alone.
For a very long time.
I gasped and pulled my hand back, staggering.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Sensory Overload Detected
Anchor Integrity: 61%
Failure Projection: High (Unassisted)
"If it collapses…" Shuang whispered, eyes wide as she sensed it too.
"This entire sector of the Outer Veil folds inward," I finished. "Everything inside gets erased."
Silence followed.
The Warden shifted, its massive form lowering slightly—as if acknowledging the danger.
Xian Yu's gaze hardened. "Can you stabilize it?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Because I already knew the truth.
"Yes," I said.
Then, quieter: "But it won't be free."
The Anchor pulsed sharply, reacting to my words.
Stabilizing it meant linking it.
To me.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Hidden Function Unlocked
Boundary Link Protocol: Available
Warning: Link Will Increase Veil Dependency
Shuang stepped forward.
"Li Wei, if you do this—"
"I know," I said, meeting her eyes. "I won't be able to walk away from the Veil anymore."
I looked up at the sky.
The clouds were tightening, spiraling slowly inward. The Veil sensed what was about to happen. It always did.
But this time, it didn't resist.
It waited.
I stepped closer to the Anchor and placed both hands against it.
"Let's get this over with."
The pulse surged violently.
Light erupted from the grooves, racing
across the valley, climbing the cliffs, shooting into the sky like veins of molten gold.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Boundary Link Initiated
Synchronization: 38% → 45%
Pain tore through me.
Not physical—structural.
It felt like parts of my existence were being threaded into something far larger, my identity stretched across layers of reality. I screamed as the Anchor responded, stabilizing, reinforcing itself through my presence.
The Warden roared.
Not in anger.
In acknowledgment.
Xian Yu and Shuang were forced back by the surge of energy, their silhouettes barely visible through the blinding glow.
And in that moment, I understood.
This wasn't just about survival anymore.
I wasn't becoming a ruler.
I was becoming a support.
A pillar.
A living connection point between worlds that were never meant to touch.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Boundary Link Established
Status Updated: Anchor-Bound (Minor)
New Passive Effect: Veil Resistance Increased
The light receded.
The valley settled.
The Anchor's pulse slowed, stabilizing into a steady rhythm that no longer strained against itself.
I collapsed to one knee, gasping, sweat pouring down my face.
Xian Yu was at my side instantly, gripping my shoulder. "You idiot," she muttered. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"
I let out a weak laugh. "Saved a world fragment?"
She stared at me, then shook her head. "You tied yourself deeper into the Veil."
I looked up at the Anchor.
It felt… calm now.
And somewhere deep inside me, something had shifted.
The Warden descended from the ridge, kneeling before me once more. Its golden eye dimmed slightly—not weakening, but stabilizing.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE]
Guardian Recognition Confirmed
Authority Tier: Acknowledged (Local)
I closed my eyes briefly.
The path ahead was becoming clear.
I wasn't running through the Outer Veil anymore.
I was becoming part of its infrastructure.
And whatever had been sealed beyond it—whatever my other self had feared becoming—was now watching me take the same road.
Only this time…
I wouldn't face it alone.