The gas flooded the lab with a sickly hiss, a gray veil that clawed at Feng Ruoxi's lungs and dragged her to her knees. Jiang Yukang and Xiao Zheng crumpled beside her, their gasps fading into choked silence as the cold floor rushed up to meet them. Liang Tianhua's silhouette loomed through the haze, syringe in hand, his icy smile a blade cutting through the chaos. But within Ruoxi, something roared—a primal, searing force that refused to yield.
The phoenix mark on her wrist ignited, a crimson blaze that burned through the fog in her mind. Her vision sharpened, the gas's grip weakening as heat surged through her veins—wild, untamed, alive. The golden-eyed woman's voice thundered in her skull: "Rise, child of fire. They will not bind you."
