Help never comes from below.
It comes from elsewhere.
The second revision didn't target us.
It targeted history.
Records shifted.
Names blurred.
Deeds dulled.
Across the world, memories softened.
Not erased.
Recontextualized.
Iron Lake City became "a minor anomaly."
The Pavilion became "a temporary refuge."
I became "a fortunate talent."
Clever.
If no one remembered the threat—
It stopped being one.
Xueyi frowned.
"They're rewriting reputation."
"Yes," I said.
"And that means they're tired."
I didn't fight it.
Didn't resist.
Didn't correct.
I let the revision stand.
Because reputation is a shortcut.
Understanding isn't.
Three months passed.
No visitors.
No challengers.
No hunters.
Inside the Pavilion—
The disciples improved.
Quietly.
Reliably.
Then Heaven did something desperate.
It consulted.
The sky didn't open.
A door did.
Not above.
Beside.
A shadow stepped through.
No light.
No presence.
No authority.
Just… age.
"Li Shen," the shadow said, voice worn thin.
"I need your opinion."
I smiled.
"Careful," I replied.
"That's how dependence starts."