My lungs burned as I dragged myself out of the black water. Shen Yue caught me under the arms, pulling me onto the cold stone floor. I tasted blood, then sand, then something metallic that did not belong to any world I knew.
"You're alive," she whispered, breath shaking.
"Barely," I managed.
The hooded figure approached slowly, as if not to disturb the air around me. "You saw it," he said. "The presence."
I nodded.
Shen Yue stiffened. "What presence?"
The guide lowered his voice. "The thing older than the bridge. Older than the tower. Older than the Mandate."
I swallowed. "What is it?"
He looked at me with a mixture of awe and dread.
"It is what the heavens fear."
My breath stopped in my throat.
He continued. "Your father opened paths that were meant to remain closed. But the Emperor of Liang—he opens them knowingly."
A cold chill ran up my spine. "The Emperor… knows?"
"He knows much," the guide said. "And what he does not know, he seeks. He and your father walk parallel roads—but only one of them understands the cliff at the end."
I sat up, vision swimming. "And what does the presence want?"
The guide hesitated.
Then he said the truth.
"It wants a world without kings."
Shen Yue blinked. "Without… kings?"
"Without kings," the guide repeated. "Without thrones. Without Mandates. Without cycles. Without mortals or gods shaping destiny."
A bizarre pressure twisted behind my ribs. "So it wants freedom?"
The guide shook his head slowly.
"No. It wants silence."
I felt my blood chill.
"It wants to erase everything Heaven failed to erase," the guide said. "And it needs a door to enter the world."
He looked straight at me.
"You are that door."
The bridge throbbed inside me like a heartbeat out of rhythm.
I closed my eyes, breath trembling.
"So the third cut?" I asked.
"Will decide," he said, "whether the presence destroys the bridge… or uses it."
Shen Yue gripped the hilt of her sword. "Then we choose neither."
"You cannot," the guide said gently. "Choice belongs to those who understand fate. You and Wu Jin and your father and your Emperor—none of you are ready."
He stepped back.
"The presence will choose for you."
Far to the east, Ling An's outer wards trembled under the lingering echo of the first bell. Priests clung to pillars. Civilians huddled inside their homes, murmuring that the gods were angry.
Wu Jin stood at the balcony watching Zhou soldiers reorganize below. They moved smarter now—tighter formations, sharper rotations, more armor. They expected conflict.
And he would give it to them.
He exhaled through his teeth and motioned for the captain of his guard. "Send word to the west gate battalion. They are to seal the entrance and prepare traps."
The captain paled. "That would be an act of war, Your Majesty."
Wu Jin closed his eyes. "War is coming no matter what I do. But if Zhou intends to replace me… then let them bleed for the attempt."
He rose, gripping the railing until his knuckles whitened.
"I am done waiting," he whispered.
Behind him, footsteps approached.
Wu Shuang leaned on the doorway, her expression serene, as if the chaos around her meant nothing.
"You finally sound like a king," she said.
Wu Jin didn't look at her. "I'm no king."
"No," she agreed. "But you might yet become one."
He turned to her sharply. "Will you stand with me?"
Her lips curved faintly. "For today."
He hesitated. "And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," she said, "depends on who survives tonight."
In the marshlands, the Emperor of Liang received the bell's toll with a calm that terrified even his most loyal generals. The Southern King bowed so deeply his forehead touched wet earth.
"Your Majesty—if the tower rings again—"
"It will," the Emperor said.
"Then the heavens—"
"Heavens," the Emperor repeated quietly. "Tell me, King… do you think Heaven still holds the Mandate?"
The King attempted a cautious answer. "Who else could?"
The Emperor touched his fingers together.
"Anyone who dares take it."
The King swallowed.
"Tonight," the Emperor said, "we march without rest. Tomorrow, we reach the river. By the next dawn, we stand at the tower."
"And the South?" the King asked.
"You belong to me," the Emperor said. "Not to geography."
The King bowed lower than ever before.
But his hands trembled.
He was beginning to understand that serving this man was not loyalty.
It was suicide.
And in Ling An's deepest chamber, the Lord Protector placed both hands on the tower's rope. The bell trembled above him like a living thing.
"Once more," he whispered.
"Just enough to wake him."
His grip tightened.
The bell swelled inside the stone, metal stretching with a sound like bones cracking.
He smiled.
"Rise, my son."
Back in the sandstorm city, the guide motioned for me to stand. "The third cut will come soon."
I staggered upright with Shen Yue's help. My chest ached, not from the cut, but from something deeper—something shaken loose inside me.
"What did I see?" I whispered.
"You saw destiny trying to rewrite itself," he said. "And failing."
My mouth went dry. "Why show me?"
"You are the only one who can decide which throne remains."
"I don't want thrones," I said.
"No one wants thrones," he replied. "But thrones want you."
Shen Yue looked at him with pure hatred.
"Tell me plainly," she said. "If he does this—if he completes the cuts—will he survive?"
The guide's expression softened for the first time.
"No," he said quietly, "he will not survive unchanged."
Shen Yue grabbed my wrist. "An—"
I met her eyes.
"I know."
The guide stepped aside.
"Prepare yourselves. The third cut isn't done to you."
He touched his chest.
"It is done through you."
I swallowed.
"And the presence?"
He flinched.
"When the third cut begins, it will come for you."
Shen Yue's heart seemed to stop.
"And if it reaches him?"
The guide looked at me with solemn finality.
"Then the world will end."
The ground trembled.
The bell began to ring again.
And this time—
the sound tore open the sky.