The mountain did not rest that night.
Even after the ritual's completion, embers floated through the air like lost souls refusing to ascend. The disciples had scattered, the elders murmuring prayers that could not quiet the unease pressing against the sect walls. Only the echo of Tiek's breathing filled the silence of the temple hall — uneven, raw, defiant.
The black flame still flickered within him. It whispered with the cadence of memory.
He sat cross-legged on the marble floor, drenched in cold sweat, and for a moment he wasn't in this world at all. He saw neon again. Streetlights flickering in the wet streets of Augustus. The echo of engines, of Malik's laughter in the alleyways. The sting of betrayal that never truly faded.
He blinked, and the scent of incense replaced gasoline.
"Two worlds," he murmured. "Two hearts that shouldn't beat together."
He looked at his hands — one pulsing faintly white, the other ringed by faint shadows. The Lotus Flame had failed to purify him. Instead, it had fused what should never be fused: mortal memory and immortal Qi.
---
Scene: The Hall of Cinders
By dawn, Tiek was summoned before the elders. They sat upon their thrones of carved basalt, robes crimson and gold, faces ancient and unmoving. But their eyes trembled when they looked upon him.
Elder Wun spoke first. "The Lotus rejected you."
"It burned," Tiek replied simply. "But it did not consume me."
Another elder leaned forward. "Then what are you, boy?"
The question lingered in the air. Even Tiek did not know the answer. But a part of him — the part that remembered Augustus, the metal, the blood — wanted to say it aloud. I'm a mistake the universe didn't erase properly.
Instead, he bowed. "A student seeking the truth."
A long silence followed. Then Elder Wun sighed. "Very well. You will be given one final chance. Leave the sect grounds and travel to the Ruins of Shí'en. If you survive, perhaps Heaven itself will speak."
Tiek lifted his gaze. "And if I fail?"
"Then perhaps Hell will."
---
Scene: The Road of Forgotten Echoes
The journey began at dusk. The mountains surrounding the sect fell away into mist and ash, the path lined with dead trees whose branches clawed the gray sky. Tiek walked alone, his robes torn, his mind whispering with fragments of both lives.
He remembered Malik's voice again.
"If you die, don't come back the same, brother."
A cruel laugh escaped his lips. "I didn't."
Hours later, he found himself at the mouth of the Ruins — towering pillars carved with ancient script, glowing faintly in the dark. There, time felt fractured. The wind howled in a rhythm he recognized — not the breath of mountains, but the hum of a distant subway.
Then the voice came. The same that haunted him during the ritual. Deep. Resonant. His own.
"You were never reborn, Tiek. You're still dying."
The ground trembled. The black lotus symbol beneath his feet flared to life. Energy surged through him, white and shadow twisting violently. His body convulsed — memories and Qi colliding like storms.
Images flooded his mind:
Malik's hand reaching out.
A car crash.
Flames.
A heartbeat echoing through static.
He screamed, his voice splitting the air, both divine and human. The ruins responded — ancient stones lighting one by one, forming a symbol above him.
---
Scene: The Mirror of Flame
When he opened his eyes again, he stood within a void.
A vast lake of fire surrounded him, yet it did not burn. Across from him stood… himself. But this version wore the face of his old life — Tiek Drayden from Augustus. Jacket torn, eyes weary, still smelling of smoke and rain.
The other Tiek spoke first. "You can't keep running from me."
"I'm not running."
"You are both. You were meant to die there. You broke the cycle."
The cultivator Tiek clenched his fists. "Then what am I?"
"A ghost that thinks it's alive. A spirit that refused Heaven's call."
Silence. Then the flames rose higher, forming a spiral. The two selves walked toward one another until the air between them rippled like glass.
And when they touched, the fire swallowed them whole.
---
Scene: The Ashes Speak
Tiek awoke at dawn, lying at the base of the ruins. The flames were gone. The black lotus symbol had vanished. But etched into the ground were words — in a language from neither world.
"Walk the path between. Only those who are forgotten can rewrite fate."
His body trembled. His hair, once dark, now shimmered faintly with streaks of silver. His Qi — no longer white or black — pulsed in shades of gray.
He whispered to himself, voice calm, deep, the echo of both lives entwined:
"If Heaven won't claim me… then I'll carve my own."
He stood, breathing in the morning chill, and for the first time since his rebirth, the mountain bowed to him.
---
End of Chapter 3 — "Ashes of the Forgotten"
A new journey begins, where Heaven and Hell are no longer destinations — but consequences.