Kai Ruìlín had crossed countless rifts in his lifetime, but this one weighed heavier than any before.
Each ripple of space he stepped through carried with it the gnawing ache of a father who had been estranged from his own child for far too long.
Years had passed since Ka Sanni walked away from the Kai family, carrying with her silence, distance, and finally the decision to abandon their name entirely.
She had carved herself into something new, something apart, as if the generations of Kai blood in her veins had meant nothing.
That choice had cut him deeper than she could ever know.
He remembered the day he first heard her new name.
He remembered sitting alone, the call log glowing on his comm, his daughter's voice absent for yet another year.
His hands had shaken—not from rage, but from heartbreak. He had given her unconditional love, guidance, and a seat at the family table. She had decided on her own that their protection was a cage, that their support was suffocating.
Without words, she had cut herself away.
Yet now, when the life of her child was at risk, she had called him. And no matter how deep the wound she had left, Kai Ruìlín was still her father. And he was still her granddaughter's grandfather.
He would not hesitate.
The rift behind him collapsed with a low crackle as he stepped onto Earth's soil.
The air here was dense, layered with exhaust fumes and the faint electrical pulse of neon signs and holo-towers in the distance.
Yet beneath all that, he could already sense the fractured currents around the Portal gate.
Space itself was straining, qi threads stretched thin and unstable.
He tightened his cloak around his shoulders and moved forward, the silence of his steps belying the storm in his chest.
Hours of travel brought him at last to the modest bed and breakfast where Ka Sanni and her husband Fan Yangwei were staying.
The building was small compared to the high-rises around it, its outer walls gleaming faintly with protective runes etched by amateur hands. It was enough to keep drones out, but not much else.
Kai Ruìlín pushed through the door. The small chime above the entrance rang lightly.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of fried dough and brewed tea.
The receptionist at the counter—a young woman in a pressed uniform—looked up with a polite smile that immediately faltered.
His presence filled the lobby like a tidal wave. His qi was restrained, but even the fragments leaking out pressed down on the senses of mortals. The woman's legs shook. She forced herself to stand, bowing her head quickly, unable to meet his gaze.
"H-h-how can I help you, sir?" Her voice trembled as though every syllable cost her. "Are you… here for food, or for a stay?"
Kai Ruìlín's eyes drifted over the small lobby, noting the holographic directory glowing faintly at the corner desk, the flickering service droids standing idle by the wall. He finally let his gaze return to the attendant, voice calm but distant.
"I'd like to book your best room. Just charge my card for however long. I do not know exactly how long I shall be staying, but I do not plan to remain too long."
His tone left no room for negotiation.
The attendant exhaled quietly in relief, nodding rapidly as if her life depended on it. She scrambled to input his information into the oni-holo computer desk comm, fingers shaking against the glass.
A credit chip flickered green as it was accepted, and she nearly stumbled in her rush to hand him the room key.
"I—I can have the drones and cleaner units prepare your room on the top floor. It has a balcony," she said quickly, her voice rising nervously. "If you would like, you may wait in the diner area and enjoy some breakfast while they finish. The chef… makes fresh lotus buns daily."
Kai Ruìlín gave her a single nod. She let out another faint breath, motioning to the drones who whirred to life and zipped toward the staircase. She herself stepped out from behind the counter, gesturing toward the dining area with both hands.
She knew—everyone in the room knew—that she was standing before a giant. Someone of power and weight that their little establishment could not afford to offend.
But before Kai Ruìlín could move toward the diner, footsteps descended the staircase.
Fan Yangwei appeared first, his stride steady, his expression calm but weary from sleepless nights. Behind him, Commander Qian Shiyan walked, his cane striking lightly against the polished steps, the weight of responsibility evident in the tightness of his shoulders.
Yangwei's eyes widened when he saw the tall figure by the counter.
"Father-in-law," Fan Yangwei called warmly, his voice carrying both relief and respect. He patted Commander Qian on the shoulder, murmuring quickly, "We'll finish this later. I'll speak to you again soon."
Commander Qian inclined his head slightly, understanding, before stepping aside.
Fan Yangwei crossed the lobby in long strides, his voice growing stronger as he approached. "Father-in-law, you've come."
Kai Ruìlín turned fully toward him. His face, usually sharp and unreadable, softened. He stepped forward and laid a heavy hand on Yangwei's shoulder, patting it firmly before gripping his arm.
"Ah, my son-in-law," Kai Ruìlín said, his voice rumbling with pride and affection. "What a strong young man you have turned out to be."
His hand shifted, patting Yangwei's arm and shoulder again before pulling him into a full embrace.
"I have missed you both so much," Kai Ruìlín said, his voice tightening as he spoke. "I wish… circumstances in the past had been handled differently. But that was then. What matters is that I am here now. My daughter reached out. That alone…" His throat caught, and he let out a short laugh to hide it. "That alone means the world to me."
Fan Yangwei returned the hug firmly, nodding.
Kai Ruìlín pulled back, wiping discreetly at the corner of his eyes before laughing again, louder this time, tilting his head back.
"This old man—hah—he's getting soft. Emotional at the drop of a hat! Hahaha!"
The sound filled the lobby, startling the receptionist who ducked her head lower, not daring to meet his gaze.
He shook his head, smiling faintly, though his chest still ached.
He wasn't sure when things had gone so wrong between him and his daughter.
He wasn't sure if it had been his strictness, his expectations, or her stubbornness.
He only knew that she had cut herself away, and now for the first time in years, she had opened the door again—even if only to ask for help.
And that was enough.
He would give everything to protect his granddaughter.
Kai Ruìlín straightened, his eyes shifting toward the window, where faint lines of distorted qi shimmered on the horizon.
The gate was unstable—he could feel it even from here. Space twisted and pulsed unnaturally, disrupting qi flow across the area.
"What a disaster these academies have led their students into," he muttered under his breath, his voice suddenly cold.
Fan Yangwei caught it, glancing toward the window as well, his jaw tightening. "You can sense it too?"
Kai Ruìlín nodded slowly. "I will need to see the gate myself. Only then will I know exactly how deep this mess goes."
Yangwei bowed his head respectfully.
The two men stood in silence for a moment, united by worry, bound by family, and burdened by the weight of what lay ahead.