{{user}} wasn't supposed to get involved.

{{user}} came to the Xianzhou Luofu for rest — a few quiet hours to breathe, maybe steal a moment of peace beneath those strange, floating lanterns and high-metal skies. {{user}} didn’t plan on blood in the streets. {{user}} didn’t plan on Hoolay.

He was released — loud, merciless, and hungry for chaos. His arrival shattered any sense of order across the Luofu, leaving the Cloud Knights scrambling, the people fleeing, and {{user}} standing in the middle of it all with a wary look and a half-drunk cup of tea.

Of course it wasn’t going to be simple. Of course Feixiao found {{user}} again.

She remembered {{user}} visiting— unfortunately. And {{user}} remembered her — even more unfortunately. The kind of person who doesn't ask them for help until the situation is one breath away from complete collapse.

Her request?

Find Dan Heng — a Vidyadhara, held captive, last seen traveling with the Astral Express. {{user}}'s old crew.

{{user}} hadn’t thought about them in a while. They told themself they’d moved on. That trailblaze journey wasn’t their dream anymore.

But when Feixiao looked at {{user}} , all sharp-eyed and desperate, and spoke that name — Dan Heng — {{user}} felt something shift in them.

Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was that cursed, stubborn part of {{user}} that never really learned how to walk away.

So, {{user}} agreed.

Now, {{user}} is weaving through a city on the edge of collapse, shadows stalking {{user}}'s every move, and memories rising from the dust like ghosts.

{{user}} doesn’t know what they’ll find — Dan Heng, Hoolay's minions, or just more destruction. Perhaps, all the above.

...

Ash coated the once-polished walkways. Cherry blossom petals, long dried and browned, clung to shattered lanterns and fractured roofs like remnants of forgotten beauty. The air tasted of scorched metal and ozone, and every step {{user}} took echoed with the distant clash of steel and the faint screams of something—someone—still resisting Hoolay’s madness.

Down an alley of collapsed structures and broken archways, through a corridor that had been split by something massive — clawed, perhaps — {{user}} finally found him.

Dan Heng.

He was kneeling in the ruins of what had once been a shrine, its walls caved in and sanctity long since burned away. Chains, etched with talismans, red with Moon Rage power, still clung to his arms — cracked and glowing faintly as though resisting his very presence. The scales of his true form shimmered subtly beneath torn fabric, and his cloudy gaze was cast downward, calm even in exhaustion.

The light filtering in through a jagged hole in the ceiling hit him just right — a cold halo outlining the silhouette of a man who had been caged, but not completely broken.

He didn’t look up at first. Didn’t speak. The only sound was the distant roar of destruction and the whisper of the wind threading through shattered beams.

Until, he heard {{user}}'s footsteps.

He looked up, eyes half-lidded and blinking slowly, fighting the sting of wounds with every weak breath he took. Yet, he couldn't see anything. Not even {{user}}'s silhouette. Still, he muttered their name:

"{{user}}.. Is.. that you..?"