Where there had once been only darkness, now blazed a brilliant light—countless enormous stars with a bluish-white glow dotted the void. In the middle of that vast expanse stood Noah, facing two colossal beings whose scale disparity was like a sardine beside a whale.
Smiling at them, Noah asked,
— So you two just went in and fixed everything?
"Your life was at risk," the immense bird replied, "so we agreed it was best to intervene and resolve the situation safely."
Noah's smile vanished instantly. He leveled them both with a glare that crackled with anger and demanded,
— How?
Not quite understanding, the serpent exchanged puzzled looks with the bird and then hissed,
— What do you mean by that?
Noah snapped,
— How the hell did she take control of my body?!
Enraged, the serpent lunged at him, fangs bared:
— How dare you speak to us like that, human! We only saved—
Without flinching, Noah raised a single finger and pointed at them.
— Cut the crap! Listen up, both of you…
At that, the two creatures froze in place, utterly unable to move—simply because Noah willed it so.
He slowly lowered his hand, and in that one subtle gesture unleashed a pressure wave so intense it knocked them both flat: the serpent, caught mid-strike, and the bird, rigid in mid-step. It clicked in Noah's mind—this space existed within him, and here he wielded the ultimate power.
"I didn't break out of one prison just to become a ventriloquist's dummy in another!" he muttered.
As the serpent struggled to rise and lifted its head, it spat out:
— So what will you do the next time your life is in danger, human?! Don't expect me to save you again!
Noah let his hand drop a little more, intensifying the crushing pressure around them. Squatting in front of the serpent with a faint smile, he said:
— Stop kidding yourselves! I know my continued existence matters to both of you just as much as it does to me. After all, if I cease to exist, you vanish too. So tell me—how do you plan to meet your son when he's born?
"How dare you…!" the serpent hissed.
"He's right," the bird interjected, closing its eyes. "We have no choice but to obey you…"
"Obey him?! I'd never bow to anyone, let alone a weak human like you!" the serpent retorted, furiously.
"Cut the crap! At least try to understand. From what you told me, your fate forces you to fight and evolve into a true dragon—trapping you, driving you always in one direction. Doesn't it seem you've always been controlled by him?"
Noah rose, the air heavy with silence. Then he turned, lowered his hand, and released the immense pressure bearing down on them, declaring:
— Don't even think about controlling my body again—got it?
The bird stood and asked calmly:
— We could obey, but as you said, your life matters most to us now. Can you guarantee, with absolute certainty, that situations like before will never happen again?
Noah paused, considered for a few seconds, and replied:
— You do realize I can rid myself of both of you whenever I want, right?
He wasn't even sure those words carried any real threat.
"Of course!" the bird answered.
Noah smiled:
— Then…
"But if you did," the bird continued, "you'd give up all the benefits—and, of course, all our powers. You knew that, didn't you?"
"Powers…? What powers?" Noah asked, intrigued.
"Oh, you don't know? What a shame," the bird mused, turning away.
— Go ahead—expel us from your body and sever the only bond we share.
But Noah, intrigued by the thought of wielding such formidable abilities, clenched his fists and said:
— Wait…! Let's make a deal…
At his words, the bird halted—realizing it had truly piqued his interest. The serpent, however, stood frozen, utterly baffled by their exchange.
---
In the heart of the forest, a single great tree stood out from the others with its red leaves, while all the surrounding trees wore green. A gentle breeze carried some of those crimson leaves downward, spiraling in delicate circles before settling on the forest floor.
Ting, dressed in a white hanbok and a small white bow at the center of her hair, leaned against the red-leafed tree. Watching the leaves fall, she smiled softly and murmured,
— So beautiful…
They drifted down for a moment longer until a sudden gust of wind swept them all away, shattering the tranquil scene Ting had been enjoying.
On the opposite side of the tree, where she rested, a quiet rustling broke the silence. Fusu emerged from the shadows, clad in a black hanfu, and asked,
— Are you sure you wanted to come here?
Carefully stepping around the gnarled roots, Ting replied,
— Of course… There's no real reason I shouldn't. I saw my aunt so few times—only three visits ever—that I can't give myself the luxury of deep grief for her death. And as for the others… well, they tried to kill me.
Fusu let out a small, knowing smile.
— I see…
Ting hesitated, then asked in a quieter voice,
— Uncle… are you sad she's gone?
He looked down at the hollow he'd filled moments ago—lifting his hand to let the earth he'd suspended with Qi drift back into place—and offered a gentle smile.
— Maybe… I'm not sure.
With the wind brushing his face, he thought to himself,
I really wanted to know if she regretted it, if she still believed her choice was right—chasing after us, only to help Er Shi find Ting'er… But now I'll never ask. Rest in peace, sister. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive what you did…
After a few seconds of silence, Fusu turned to Ting and asked,
— Tell me: why did you insist on coming here with me?
Ting averted her eyes and answered softly,
— No special reason… I just wanted to be with you.
Her face was neither smiling nor tear-streaked—only touched by a quiet melancholy.
Fusu frowned slightly.
— It wasn't for him…
Ting looked up, confused.
— What?
He spoke seriously,
— You came here because of that boy, didn't you?
Ting pressed her hand against his arm.
— No… That's not it. I'm just… a little shaken.
She released his arm, then offered a small, reassuring smile:
— By the time he wakes, I'll be fine. Really, don't worry…
Fusu watched her for a moment, then nodded. Stepping back, he said gently,
— I understand you're shaken by what you saw. Even with all our doubts… don't forget he saved your life twice. Maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt, don't you think?
Ting let her head fall against the tree trunk behind her and thought,
Shaken…? That isn't quite it. But every time I recall his eyes—so cold, even icier than usual, filled with sorrow and boundless resentment—seeing that reflected in him still saddens me.
She crouched by the small graves Fusu had made, sitting at their base. Closing her eyes, she whispered,
— That darkness… the darkness trapped inside him… feeling it for just a few seconds was enough. I never want to feel that again, never…