The skyscraper groaned under the weight of three opposing pressures. We stood in a triangular standoff on the vertical glass, the city lights below flickering like a dying heartbeat. For a brief second, we had looked like a team—the Sovereign, the Architect, and the Origin—but the moment Yue Qin's power brushed against mine, the illusion shattered.
I felt it through our skin. My Qi was a wildfire, jagged and untamed, seeking to tear down the walls and let the energy scream. Yue Qin's Qi was a void, a perfectly engineered vacuum designed to contain and control. And Zhou? Zhou was the math that said neither of us should exist.
"The demolition crew?" I spat, pulling my hand away from Yue Qin as if her touch had burned me. "You didn't come here to help me, Qin. You came to reclaim the 'assets.' You don't want the world to breathe; you just want to change the lock on the cage."
Yue Qin's eyes flashed with a cold, violet light. She didn't deny it. "The world isn't ready for your 'Reverse-Flow,' Chen Feng. If you break the Silos, you don't bring back the Radiant Peak. You bring back the chaos that nearly burnt the universe to a cinder. I'm not changing the lock; I'm reinforcing the walls before you kill everyone."
"And there it is," Zhou said, his voice smooth as polished marble. He stood at the apex of the triangle, his hands clasped behind his back. "The Architect wants a stable cage. The Sovereign wants a glorious funeral. And I? I simply want the energy to return to the source. You are all just middle-men in a transaction that is billions of years overdue."
The realization hit me like a physical blow. We weren't a trio. We were three different disasters.
"I'm not a middle-man," I growled.
I kicked off the glass, but I didn't aim for Zhou. I swung the Fallen Leaf Blade at Yue Qin. The wind from my strike was so sharp it sliced a hairline fracture into the skyscraper's structural frame.
She parried with a wave of her hand, a ripple of "Static Intent" that turned my wind into harmless air. "You fool! If you fight me now, Zhou wins by default!"
"You're both the enemy!" I shouted.
I spun mid-air, my silver aura flaring into a desperate, messy corona. I launched a flurry of strikes—the Seven Stars of the Void—aiming one at Zhou's throat and the next at the silver pin in Yue Qin's hair.
Zhou didn't even move. He simply adjusted the local density of the air. My blade struck a wall of invisible, solidified oxygen, sending a jarring vibration up my arm that nearly cracked my elbow.
"You see?" Zhou remarked, looking at us with pity. "Individualism is the flaw of the immortal. You would rather drown alone than share a lifeboat."
The three of us collided in the center of the vertical battlefield. It was no longer a dance; it was a riot.
Yue Qin launched a swarm of silver needles—each one a miniaturized Silo-vessel—designed to drain my energy and Zhou's authority simultaneously. I countered with a massive burst of Primal Heat, trying to melt her needles and scorch Zhou's tailored suit. Zhou simply raised both hands, and the very concepts of 'Heat' and 'Direction' began to blur.
My heart hammered against my ribs, the Triple Burner meridian in my chest glowing white-hot as I pushed my body past its limits. I could see Yue Qin's breath hitching, her perfect composure slipping as she realized she couldn't contain both the Dao and the Sovereign.
"The anchor!" she screamed over the roar of the energy. "The espresso machine! Chen Feng, it's going critical!"
I looked down. In the street below, the manhole covers were no longer vibrating. They were glowing. The Wind-Pipe Anchor wasn't just leaking anymore; it was beginning to invert.
The deal was off. The partnership was dead. And as the three of us hung there, suspended between the clouds and the pavement, the city finally let out a sound it hadn't made in two thousand years.
The world didn't scream. It opened.