Fan Yumei's sanctuary training days was quiet. Too quiet.
The space bent around her like a dream given form—every corner was lit by soft, shifting lights from floating shards of crystal.
They pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat, echoing her qi flow as though the sanctuary itself breathed alongside her.
Inside this place, time warped. One hour outside equaled three days in here. Two hours meant six days.
And Fan Yumei?
She had already pushed herself to the edge—spending twelve days within this warped refuge, and finally two more in reality to prove that her training wasn't just theory.
Her body still wanted to rely on her eyes, on those cursed All-Seeing God Eyes that had become both her gift and her trap.
Every instinct screamed at her to open them, to fall back on sight. But Fan Yumei was a battle maniac, and she refused to let herself be weak.
So she bound her vision. A strip of dark cloth wrapped tightly around her eyes, sealing away her gift.
Blind.
Not helpless.
Every step was trial and error.
At first she stumbled, crashing into crystal pillars, smacking her shin on floating platforms, even tripping over Maxius, who had long since stopped trying to move out of her way.
"You're hopeless," the old beast grumbled, shaking his heavy mane as she picked herself up from the floor again.
Grimme cackled, the little forced soul-bonded menace perched on a hovering shard.
"Hopeless? No, no—watch. She'll do it again, and again, and again. Until she breaks her head or actually learns."
Fan Yumei wiped the blood from her lip and spat, grinning like a lunatic. "Exactly. Again."
And she did.
Over and over, until the bruises turned into callouses, until the hesitation in her steps faded, until the outlines of the sanctuary began to form in her mind—not with her eyes, but with her senses.
Her qi flared outward in subtle pulses, bouncing off crystal shards, Maxius's shaggy frame, even Grimme's tiny wings.
Slowly, she learned to paint an image in her head: glowing silhouettes, hazy but present.
It wasn't just shapes. It was aura.
She could taste Maxius's gruff, steady energy, colored in deep earthen hues. She could hear Grimme's erratic, sharp pulses, like sparks dancing across the air.
People's moods, their colors, their very presence—it all began to bleed into her perception.
By the tenth day in her sanctuary, she wasn't walking anymore. She was running. Dodging shards, vaulting over glowing platforms, spinning midair with a laugh as her foot landed exactly where she wanted.
On the twelfth, she was sparring blindfolded.
"Come on, old man!" she shouted at Maxius. "Don't go easy on me just because I can't see!"
Maxius roared, stomping forward with enough weight to crack the sanctuary floor. His paw swung like a hammer, but Fan Yumei tilted her head just slightly and slid under his strike, her fingers brushing his fur as she darted past.
"Too slow!" she taunted.
"You reckless brat!" Maxius snapped, but there was pride in his tone.
Grimme laughed so hard he almost fell off his perch. "She's gonna get herself killed one day, and I want front-row seats!"
"Shut up and spar me yourself!" Fan Yumei shot back, lunging at him.
The little beast screeched, darting into the air. "Not fair, not fair!"
The sanctuary rang with laughter, roars, and crashes. But beneath it all, Fan Yumei's determination hardened. She wasn't training for fun—though she sure as hell enjoyed it. She was preparing.
Finally, after twelve days of warped time, she stood still in the middle of the sanctuary. Sweat rolled down her chin. Every breath was steady. Every pulse of qi painted the world around her without flaw.
She could walk. Run. Fight. Sense colors, moods, auras. She didn't need her eyes anymore.
"I'm ready," she whispered.
Maxius lowered his head. "You'd better be."
Grimme clapped his little claws mockingly. "Finally stopped tripping over cliffs, huh?"
Fan Yumei smirked beneath her blindfold. "Yeah. Now let's see if I can stop tripping in reality."
—
Two days.
That's how long she spent outside the sanctuary, testing herself against the real world.
Two days of walking mountainsides, threading through forests, even standing on cliff edges without fear. Every step was calculated. Every movement was guided by her new perception.
Her blindfold never came off.
And when she finished her last training session, she didn't even hesitate. She exhaled, lifted her hand, and summoned her rift map.
The floating construct unfolded in her mind—lines of light spreading like rivers, glowing markers connected to her soul and the souls of her teammates.
"Alright…" she murmured, fingers brushing the air. "Let's see where you are."
She tossed the signal disk skyward. It spun and pulsed, syncing with her soul-map, threads of light extending out like spider silk.
She waited. Felt. Reached.
Her qi trembled.
Then—
The communicator on her wrist buzzed, startling her.
She froze.
Her heart skipped when she heard his voice, raw and strained, break through the rift line.
"Yumei… help!! Min Zhao's bleeding out—we're being pursued, and they got Liang Chenwu."
The sound of Jin Minhe's breathing was ragged, like he had been running for his life. Behind him, faint echoes of chaos filtered through the line.
Her fingers tightened. "Where?"
A pause. Then his voice cracked with urgency:
"I'm in Hatch City. I don't know how long I can hold out."
Fan Yumei's blindfold twitched as if her eyes wanted to flare open, but she didn't need sight to feel the weight of his words.
Her rift map pulsed, and a marker flared where his and Min Zhao's soul-threads burned weakly.
She touched it, her qi surging through the map.
Three cities away.
"I'm coming," she said, no hesitation in her tone. Her voice sharpened, clear as steel. "Stay alive."
Her foot shifted. Already moving.
She snapped her fingers into a quick rune cast.
(long whistle… double short whistle)
Grimme and Maxius reacted instantly, hot on her trail, following her sharp command.
She teleported twenty meters forward in the direction of Hatch City, rune light crackling underfoot.
Grimme darted through the tear behind her. Maxius beat his massive wings overhead, shadow blotting out the moonlight.
Her aura flared, golden lightning crackling faintly across her skin, even with her eyes sealed.
The rift map burned in her hands like a living oath.
Fan Yumei was moving.