The forbidden book became Lian's silent companion.
He studied it every night in his dorm, lamp dim to avoid prying eyes from passing instructors. The filthy pages, once crusted with mud and scorched at the edges, were now carefully preserved—wiped clean, bound with stolen thread to hold the crumbling spine. He didn't rush. Each ritual, each diagram of harvested organs and Qi infusion, he dissected with void eyes that saw beyond the ink.
The methods tempted.
Consume a heart—forge a core breakthrough in hours, stealing the victim's essence to widen meridians.
Devour eyes—gain sight that pierced illusions, predicted trajectories, turned speed into foresight.
Other secrets darker: livers for unbreakable endurance, brains for instant insight into techniques.
Boosts massive.
Realms shattered overnight.
But Lian saw the cracks.
The book's warnings—madness from mismatched souls, body rejection like fire in veins, shortened lifespan to mere years.
Hunters drawn like shadows to blood.
He could use it.
The right time waited.
Not yet.
Power without root crumbled.
He remembered the blacksmith's hammer.
Ten thousand strikes.
He closed the book each night.
Memorized more.
Hid it deeper.
Days flowed in the academy's rhythm.
Special training deepened: solo yards for hammer-blade drills, instructors dropping manuals on hybrid aug-Qi paths—though he avoided those, sticking to pure body.
Evenings with Elara.
The private yard became theirs.
Forms silent.
Blades no sound.
She noticed his distraction first.
Mid-form, her alloy arm brushed his—metal cool.
"You carry weight."
He sheathed blade.
Nodded.
Showed her the book that night.
Rain pattered on the fenced yard's canopy.
She sat on the bench, cyber eyes scanning pages fast—machine efficiency.
Human brow furrowed slight.
"Harvest."
"Dark path."
"Forbidden even here."
He nodded.
"Uncle taken this way."
"Heart. Eyes."
She turned page careful.
Fingers metal—precise, no tear.
"Why show me?"
He sat ground opposite.
Distance still.
But closer than before.
"Trust."
One word.
More than usual.
She looked up.
Blue glow soft on his scars.
"Use it?"
He shook head.
"Not yet."
"Time right… maybe."
She closed book.
"Madness."
"Costs soul."
He nodded.
Opening up slow.
Words came more.
Not flood.
Drops.
He spoke of Khar-9 dust.
Harlan's stories.
The cave-in that crippled uncle's legs.
The lively boy he was—jokes, smiles.
Gone now.
She listened.
Shared little.
"Born human."
"Accident young."
"Parents gone."
"Augs saved."
"Half life."
"Half power."
He understood.
Scars inside and out.
Connection deeper.
No rush.
Just time.
One rainy evening, after forms, they sat longer.
Rain drummed canopy.
She polished blade—metal fingers silent.
He watched stars through gaps.
Spoke after long quiet.
"Life is a chain of empty echoes—every loss leaves a hollow ring, and the cold truth is, you fill them not with more, but with sharper silence, until the chain breaks under its own weight."
She paused.
Looked at him.
Deep.
Cold.
True.
Eyes met.
"Yours?"
He nodded.
"Seen it."
She sheathed blade.
"Mine: Existence is wired circuits—spark once, burn out slow, replace or rust."
He nodded.
Shared truths.
Words increased.
Not chatter.
Meaningful.
Plans.
Thoughts.
Revenge path.
She warned.
"Harvest draws reapers."
"Old ones."
"White eyes."
He nodded.
"Knew."
They trained harder.
Forms faster.
Sparred light—first time.
Her augs strong—unyielding.
His body resilient—adapt.
Clash even.
Learned from each.
She showed aug precision—predict joint limits.
He showed root power—unbreakable stance.
Blend grew.
Circuit Awakening Peak knocked.
Pressure built.
One night, after spar, she touched his arm.
Human skin on scar.
"Careful with book."
"Don't become them."
He nodded.
"Won't."
Words enough.
Connection solid.
Not love.
Partnership.
Two halves.
Whole together.
The book stayed hidden.
Studied.
Not used.
Time not right.
Yet.
The academy watched from afar.
Instructors noted progress.
Principal approved.
The Ghost rose quiet.
With Elara beside.
Revenge waited.
But closer.
The chain echoed less.
Sharper silence filled.
He trained dawn.
With her dusk.
Ready for the break.