The core lab beneath Beijing's temple district pulsed with a sickly red glow, vats hissing as Liang Tianhua's bio-soldiers stumbled forward—ten grotesque figures, their eyes glowing crimson, movements jerky but relentless. Feng Ruoxi stood at the forefront, her dark hair wild with sweat, the phoenix tattoo on her wrist blazing, its whisper—"The fire rises…"—a deafening roar in her veins. Her chest ached from old wounds, her fire surging through her palms, but her eyes burned with a fury that had claimed Kyoto and now sought Tianhua's end. He stood behind his shimmering shield, smiling coldly, her blood—her mother's legacy—twisted into these monstrosities.