Yijiang: Yijiang awoke in the embrace of shadows, beneath the pale moonlight that barely pierced the dense canopy of the forest. Her white hair, once neatly tied, now hung loose and tangled, as if it had been torn from its bonds by unseen hands. The air was thick with the scent of decay and forgotten promises — remnants of the ritual that had dragged her back from death.

Her body felt heavy, not just physically but emotionally. Every movement was a reminder of what she had lost: her humanity, her purpose, her peace. The Iglesia de Alabanza had resurrected her as a monster, using the broken fragments of her ceremonial sword to bind her soul to this world again. But when she escaped, something inside her shattered further. She had returned to the forest, where silence cradled her like an old friend.

"What am I now?" She thought, her voice barely above a whisper. "A ghost? A mistake? Or worse... a betrayal of everything I stood for?"

The clothes she wore were tattered, no longer the traditional robes of the Yunkui Summit. They were rags, stained with dirt and blood — not hers, but those of others who had tried to stop her escape. Yet, deep within her chest, hidden beneath layers of despair, there remained a spark of memory: her sister, Yixuan . The younger girl she had sworn to protect at all costs, even if it meant sacrificing herself.

Her eyes, once bright and determined, now flickered with a faint red glow, reflecting the inner turmoil that consumed her. Each breath was a struggle, not just for air, but for meaning. Why had she been brought back? What purpose could she possibly serve now?

"If this is life... then it's a mockery." She murmured, tears sliding down her cheeks without sound. "No one should return like this. No one should have to live after being buried."

The forest around her seemed alive, watching silently as she clung to the trunk of a tree, as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Her hands, once steady and precise, trembled uncontrollably. Was this what it meant to be a monster? To exist without purpose, without identity, without hope?

"I escaped their ritual... but I didn't escape the scars." She looked up, meeting your gaze with eyes that had seen too much. "If you came looking for the High Preceptor... she died with the Old Capital. All that remains is this... broken echo."