The alley was dark and narrow, the kind of place where shadows seemed to stretch endlessly, swallowing any trace of light. Lin Wei stood tense beside me, her dagger glinting faintly in the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp. Her eyes darted toward the approaching footsteps, calculating every angle, every possible escape route.
"They're close," she muttered under her breath, not taking her gaze off the mouth of the alley. "Too close."
I clenched my fists, feeling the fiery symbol on my palm pulse with heat. Whatever was coming, I wasn't about to let Kai's sacrifice go to waste. Not after everything he'd done for us—for *her*.
"Whoever it is, we take them down fast," I said firmly, channeling Qi into my body. My muscles tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.
Lin nodded sharply, but there was something in her expression—a flicker of hesitation—that caught my attention. She gripped the encrypted data drive tightly in one hand, as if it held all the answers—and all the danger—we couldn't yet comprehend.
Before either of us could react, figures emerged from the shadows. They weren't mercenaries or soldiers this time—just ordinary civilians, their faces pale and drawn, their clothes tattered and stained. At their head stood Zhang Wei, his usually scrappy demeanor replaced by an almost desperate urgency.
"We need your help," Zhang said quickly, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm.
"Help?" I repeated incredulously. "You think now's the time to ask for favors?"
"It's not just us," he replied, gesturing behind him. "They've started rounding people up—anyone connected to you, even remotely. Families, friends, neighbors. Anyone who might know something about the Celestial Bloodline."
My stomach sank. "How many?"
"Dozens," Zhang admitted grimly. "Maybe more. They're using them as bait—to draw you out."
Lin cursed softly, pacing furiously. "This complicates things."
"Complicates?" I snapped, turning to her. "They're using innocent people as pawns!"
"I know that," she shot back, her voice tight with frustration. "But rushing in blindly won't save them—or us."
Before I could argue further, Zhang stepped forward, pulling out a small device similar to the one Lin had used earlier. It projected a holographic map into the air, highlighting locations marked with red dots.
"These are the detention centers," he explained. "Temporary holding facilities scattered across the city. If we act quickly, we might be able to free some of them before they're moved to the main compound."
"And what happens if we fail?" I asked coldly.
Zhang hesitated, then met my gaze squarely. "Then we lose everyone. Including ourselves."
We retreated deeper into the alley, huddled around the holographic map as Lin studied it intently. Her brow furrowed in concentration, and I could practically see the gears turning in her mind.
"Here," she said finally, pointing to a cluster of dots near the industrial district. "This facility is smaller, less guarded. If we hit it hard and fast, we can create enough chaos to buy ourselves time."
"And the others?" I pressed.
"We can't save them all at once," she admitted reluctantly. "Not without getting overwhelmed. For now, we focus on this one—and hope it buys us leverage."
I clenched my jaw, torn between anger and pragmatism. Every instinct screamed at me to storm every facility, tear down walls, and rescue everyone—but Lin was right. Without a plan, we'd only walk straight into another trap.
"Fine," I said finally. "But if we're doing this, we do it my way."
Lin raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"Meaning no more secrets," I replied sharply. "Whatever's on that data drive, you tell me now. No half-truths, no omissions. We're in this together—or not at all."
She hesitated, then sighed, nodding slowly. "Fair enough."
Lin plugged the data drive into her wrist device, pulling up a series of files filled with classified documents, surveillance footage, and encrypted messages. As she scrolled through them, her expression grew increasingly grim.
"This goes deeper than we thought," she murmured, shaking her head. "It's not just about your bloodline—it's about what it represents."
"What does it represent?" I demanded, leaning closer.
She glanced at me, her eyes haunted. "Power. Pure, uncontrollable power. Your ancestors weren't just feared—they were worshipped. People believed they were gods walking among mortals. And the clans… they saw that power as a threat to their dominance."
"So they erased them," I guessed bitterly.
"Not just them," Lin corrected. "They rewrote history. Erased records, destroyed artifacts, silenced anyone who dared speak of the Celestial Bloodline. All to ensure no one could rise up against them again."
"But why come after me now?" I asked. "If they thought my bloodline was gone, why risk exposure?"
"Because of you," she replied simply. "Because the artifact awakened your powers—and because the Crimson Veil fears history repeating itself. They see you as a catalyst, someone who could inspire others to challenge their rule."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. So this wasn't just about revenge or survival—it was about legacy. About proving that my family's name hadn't been erased for nothing.
"And Commander Ren?" I pressed. "What's his role in all this?"
Lin hesitated, scrolling through the files until she found what she was looking for. A profile appeared on the screen—a masked figure clad in crimson armor, accompanied by a dossier detailing his crimes.
"Ren is the Crimson Veil's enforcer," she explained. "But he's also… something else. Someone who's been hunting descendants of the Celestial Bloodline for decades. According to these records, he was directly involved in the purge that wiped out your family."
My blood ran cold. This wasn't just a fight for survival anymore—it was personal.
With the stakes higher than ever, we finalized our plan. Using Zhang Wei's intel, we mapped out an infiltration route designed to minimize casualties while maximizing impact. Lin would disable the facility's security systems, while I created diversions to draw guards away from the holding cells. Zhang and his group would handle evacuations, leading freed captives to safety.
"If anything goes wrong," Lin warned, her tone grave, "we abort. No heroics."
"Agreed," I said, though both of us knew how unlikely that was.
As we prepared to move out, Lin pulled me aside, her expression uncharacteristically vulnerable.
"Kai… he died believing in us," she said quietly. "Don't let his sacrifice be meaningless."
I nodded, meeting her gaze steadily. "We'll finish this. For him. For everyone."
The facility loomed ahead, its silhouette stark against the night sky. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements precise and mechanical. Inside, innocents waited—terrified, helpless, counting on us to save them.
"We only get one shot at this," Lin whispered as we crouched in the shadows. "Make it count."
I took a deep breath, feeling the fiery symbol on my palm flare brighter than ever. Energy surged through me, raw and electric, flooding my veins with purpose.
"For Kai," I muttered under my breath.
"For everyone," Lin echoed.
And with that, we charged forward, ready to face whatever awaited us inside.