"Are you not polishing that ring a bit too much?" one Exile grumbled, cold sea winds cutting through their coats.
"Why wouldn't I?" the other replied, holding the silver band to the light. "This was my first ring, which made me an Exile. It's more than just metal. Its identity."
"Keep shining it like that, and a crow might snatch it off your hand," the first scoffed.
Their banter faded into the wind, but Kyorin, slumped half-asleep in chains, heard every word.
He didn't lift his head, nor stir—but in his mind, he already knew what he'd do the moment even a sliver of freedom returned.
***
"CAW! CAW!"
A gleeful crow cawed into the night, soaring overhead with a polished ring gleaming in its beak—each flap catching moonlight, casting flickers of silver across the dark.
Kyorin glanced up, deadpan, murmuring: "Of course… it had to be the shiny one."
Regardless, he had already collected a few of the rings. Now, he and Calcharo stood just beyond the dungeon's heart, on a narrow balcony carved into its outer wall.
Several lifeless Exiles lay scattered around them, their rings stripped, their silence absolute.
They weren't free yet, but at least they had reached the surface. Above them stretched the night sky—cold, vast, and scattered with stars.
"Haah..."
Gasping, Calcharo collapsed against the cold stone, his breath uneven.
Kyorin wasn't faring much better—overclocking had taken its toll. Frost clung to his hair, parts of it crystallized into pale shards of ice.
"You're... insane, you know that," Calcharo muttered between gasps.
"Talking about me?" Kyorin asked, equally breathless.
"Yeah... you." Calcharo huffed, eyes narrowing. "You must have got brain damage." He paused, then added with a cold stare, "Who plays buddies after killing the other side's crew?"
He looked at Kyorin like he was staring at a madman—because the earlier memory was still fresh, vivid, and wrong in all the ways that mattered.
***
After they'd put on their first rings, other Exiles had arrived, stumbling on the lifeless bodies of their fallen comrades. Rage filled the air.
"You dare!" one had shouted. "You dare kill our men!"
At that moment, Kyorin held up his ring and asked, "Are you going to harm your kind?"
"..."
His words hung heavy in the air, forcing a complete silence—until one Exile finally spat back, "Dare to kill our men, plundering their rings and calling yourself one of us?"
Kyorin countered, "But isn't it the rule? To become an Exile, you must kill another." He pointed.
The Exile clenched his fist, yet begrudgingly... he nodded. "Yes, that's true."
"But even so," he began, his voice thick with mockery, "there are factions among us." He sneered, pointing his blade at the two. So you two—rings or not—aren't part of us. You're trespassers."
"Surround them." The Exile commanded as the others quickly moved, encircling the two.
"What now?" Calcharo asked, still holding Kyorin in his arms. The navy-haired boy looked oddly calm, eyes scanning the Exiles as they drew blades and powered up their guns.
"Huh… looks like they won't spare me either," Kyorin muttered, almost surprised.
"Of course they won't," Calcharo growled. "We just killed their comrades."
Kyorin tilted his head toward him. "Technically, only you did it."
Calcharo paused. "Wait…" his eyes narrowed towards Kyorin. "Were you planning to make me the scapegoat?"
Kyorin gave him a crooked grin. "You're a sharp one."
"You son of a—" Calcharo cursed, but didn't get to finish. The Exiles charged.
Kyorin sighed, rising unsteadily to his feet. With a casual flick, he kicked off one of his loose slippers, sending it sailing straight into an Exile's face with a satisfying thud, knocking the man out cold.
He tossed the sword in his hand back to the phantom behind him, then conjured twin scythes—one in each hand.
Spreading his arms to each side of the narrow corridor, using complex structural, delicate strings of RE, he spun them, resulting in a whirl of steel and motion, deflecting the hail of bullets like a whirring shield.
Inside the wall of blades, Calcharo glanced up, spotting a weakness in the ceiling. He reached out and took hold of his phantom's sword, now crackling with lightning as the phantom merged into the blade.
With a single, thunder-charged strike, he carved open the roof.
"I'm going up," he muttered—and leapt.
Kyorin followed, but as he pushed off, his legs buckled—his body faltering from exhaustion and the throb in his head. He slipped mid-jump, unable to bridge the gap.
However, Calcharo's arm shot out, catching him by the wrist and hauling him up.
"Better be grateful," he grunted.
Kyorin, still dangling, gave him a half-lidded look. "How kind."
"Hmph." Calcharo hauled Kyorin up, and the two began sprinting toward the exit.
Exiles still appeared, but they came in scattered waves, not as an overwhelming horde—manageable enough to evade or dispatch.
***
Now, they were only a few steps from freedom. Even though their bodies screamed for rest, they pushed forward—this was no time to falter.
They moved through the corridors, the silence beginning to gnaw at their senses. It was too quiet. Not a single Exile in sight.
"How many turns left?" Calcharo asked, eyes scanning every shadow.
Kyorin pulled a small, bloodstained map from his rags, plundered off one of the corpses.
"One right turn," Kyorin said, eyes scanning the map.
Calcharo stared ahead, instincts flaring—something was waiting for them. Regardless, they marched on, rounding the corner in sync.
"Hm."
Calcharo narrowed his eyes. No Exiles—but waiting in their place was a figure draped in crimson, face hidden behind a masked hood. He had four arms, each twitching with lethal intent.
The suppressed voice that emerged from beneath the mask was cold."Oh? Seems like the Exiles have finished cleaning up the disruption below."
It was a Fractsidus Executioner.
Calcharo's expression twisted into alarm. 'A Level 85 Resonator?!' He shifted instantly into a defensive stance.
Kyorin remained still for a second longer, a faint wince crossing his face. His head still rang from the earlier blow—but something about that voice... It felt familiar.
"Hmm." The Executioner tilted his head, something about Kyorin tugging at recognition. 'That face... can it be?'
Without warning, he vanished—then reappeared in front of Kyorin, the ground cracking under his sudden lunge.
"Watch out!" Calcharo shouted, reaching for Kyorin—but all he managed to grab was the polished ring slipping off Kyorin's finger as Kyorin was slammed hard against the wall by the assailant.
"Argh—!"
Kyorin winced as the Executioner grabbed him by the collar, lifting him with one arm. The mask's eye-lens narrowed.
"Aren't you that little whelp from three years ago?" The Executioner's voice was laced with cruel delight. "The brat who torched the Divine Tree. Pleb of Yang Niu."
Kyorin struggled, but the grip only tightened.
"So you were faking it back then." The Executioner nodded to himself. Then turned back to find nothing. Calcharo was gone, having fled the scene at the first opportunity.
"Tch. Not only fake powers, but fake friends too. Such a pity." With a mocking sneer, one of his four blades plunged into Kyorin's side.
Kyorin winced, and the Executioner muttered: "Delightful."
Blood dripped down. Kyorin gasped. The Executioner leaned in, voice venomous. "I wanted a real fight back then. But..."
He looked down with disappointment. "It seems you were but pretentious." Another blade slid deeper, then pulled out.
"Well, regardless…" He raised a third blade high, ready to finish it.
"Die."
"…"
But in the next second, his blade froze mid-swing, grazing Kyorin's neck. The Executioner's eyes caught something interesting.
The chest wound… was gone. He watched as the cut on Kyorin's neck closed within seconds.
"Hoh?" A low chuckle. "Looks like you've got a few tricks after all."
In a swift motion, one of his hands struck the back of Kyorin's head. Kyorin slumped, unconscious.
The Executioner slung him over his shoulder with ease.
"Do not worry…" He turned, walking into the shadows.
"Our scientists will love you."
***
"Haah… Haah…"
With labored breaths, the silver-haired wolf ran, never once looking back. All he knew was that the enemy had been distracted — and he had to run.
Even if that distraction was someone who... someone who...
Who was that distraction?
Still running, Calcharo thought of Kyorin. He owed him for the chance to escape.
Yet Calcharo knew better than to trust him.
Calcharo had been betrayed too many times to trust anyone. He had become a man who could never place others above himself — or his freedom.
That was why Calcharo ran. No apology. No guilt. Only freedom.
He glanced down at the ring in his hand — Kyorin's ring — and muttered: "I am an Exile."
***
Far beyond the seas, in the region of Huanglong, a mechanical wonder stirred awake from her deep analysis state.
She felt the familiar Resonance and said, "New Federation, is it?"
Her body shimmered as crimson streams of hieroglyphs appeared all over the metallic surface, then dissolved into threads of Resonance.
Those threads coalesced, re-forming her near the borders of the New Federation before muttering in frustration: "Tch. I've lost the signal again."
But at least she knew that the signal she was searching for — Kyorin — was somewhere in the New Federation.
***
"NO! THIS CANNOT HAPPEN!" Dan Xia shouted, her voice trembling with desperation.
She stared wide-eyed at the unfolding events, fists clenched at her sides. Xin Yao stepped forward and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"What's wrong, Lady? What cannot happen?" Xin Yao asked calmly.
Dan Xia pointed toward the scene, her voice shaky. "My son is in danger. Unfailry being orchestrated into a vicious play." She pointed at the unfolding and asked, "How can I let it happen?"
Xin Yao smiled softly, her eyes steady. "Lady Xia, exactly who is your son?"
Dan Xia hesitated, brows knitting, then whispered, "My son... he is Kyo—"
She paused, her heart pounding as a flicker of uncertainty and fear crossed her face.
"Here." Yao offered her some berries.
Xia took the berries, and with a serene smile, Xin Yao began, "Though you have attained immortality and ascended to a higher realm..."
She glanced at Xia's trembling body and finished, "It seems you have not yet let go of your attachment to your son's physical form."
She nodded gently toward Xia and held her hands. "Your son is alright. Only his mortal body is being harmed."
Xia was still shaking, the berries doing little to soothe her. "Still, it's..." she bit her lip in frustration, "painful." Her gaze fell, blood and tears dripping down her face.
Flowers bloomed where her tears and blood fell, releasing a sweet scent. The nectar drew nearby insects to taste it.
Once they did, the insects found themselves in a profound fulfillment, as if their purpose was complete.
Next instance, they fell dead, embraced by the sweetness that had nourished their souls.
Xin Yao watched this and said, "Such deep love you project."
Xin Yao looked on with quiet envy and murmured, "Who knew something this sweet could exist?"
Her gaze lingered on Kyorin, once again bound in chains and collars.
Xin Yao's expression did not shift, but her voice carried the weight of certainty. "Do not worry, Lady Xia."
She continued, her tone calm and resolute. "What's happening to Kyorin was authored by the Head of Universal Affairs."
A pause, before her eyes narrowed slightly. "And what she writes cannot be undone—not even by herself." Yao declared.
"So do not bargain with Kyorin's fate, Lady Xia." She squeezed Xia's hand, consoling her. "This is not punishment. It is a test of him, and his karma."
Xia inhaled quietly through her nose. Her face remained composed, but her hands folded more tightly in her lap.
"But until now," Xia said softly, almost questioning, "hasn't everything Kyorin has done… been authored by the Writer of Fate?"
This was the truth: every step Kyorin had taken—and would take—was written long before he walked it.
"Then why punish him for evil she scripted?" Xia questioned, sniffling as she closed her eyes in pain. "Why condemn the flame for the fire?"
Xin Yao tilted her head slightly. "Lady Xia… your child was born with many gifts."
She let a beat pass before she reminded her, "But he was also born with poison."
Xia's head lifted slightly. "Poison?"
"Yes," Xin Yao replied. "The poison of knowledge."
Xia's eyes drifted toward the horizon. "Knowledge?" she repeated, baffled. "How can knowing ever be a curse?"
Xin Yao spoke without judgment—each word quiet, deliberate."Karma does not care for good or evil," she said. "It simply balances."
She picked up a small stone and held it between her fingers. "Action…" she said, letting it fall. The stone landed with a soft thud. "… must meet consequence."
"But Lady Yao, if karma isn't based on good or evil," Xia asked, "then why is he being punished?"
"Because he has sinned," Xin Yao replied calmly."He killed his teacher. He's taken lives. He's plundered." Yao reminded Xia of Kyorin's sins.
Yet, unsatisfied, Xia asked in a trembling voice. "But wasn't it the goddess who made him do all that?"
"Yes," Xin Yao said. "And Kyorin knows that. That is why… he has sinned."
Xia blinked. "Explain."
Xin Yao's gaze did not waver. Her voice was soft, but each word fell with purpose. "Sin, as you understand it, is incomplete. Sin does not arise from the act itself, but from awareness."
Xia turned toward her fully now, her face unreadable. "How come?"
Xin Yao inclined her head slightly. "A being that cannot tell right from wrong cannot sin."
She gestured to the horizon, where two small insects moved across a rock. One bit the other.
After a moment, the second bug curled inward and stopped moving.
"If a bug bites and another dies, it is not sin." Yao explained, "The bug does not know. There is no intent—only instinct."
Her eyes returned to Xia, steady and calm. "But a man who knows… and still chooses wrong—he sins."
She let the silence linger before continuing.
"Kyorin was aware of his actions." Yao pointed, "Aware of the lives he took, the teacher he betrayed… and still, he acted. Thus, he sinned."
She folded her hands neatly in front of her. "Sin belongs only to the sentient. Only to those who are aware."
Xia lowered her gaze, still upset at the unjust treatment of her son.
"Even beasts like the tiger," Xin Yao continued, "or the Tacet Discords—they kill to live. There is no morality to their nature. They, too, are sinless."
"And those without knowledge-the unaware-are innocent." Her gaze turned to Kyorin. Her voice softened, almost mournful. "But Kyorin… he was not born innocent, though he should have been."
Xia looked at Yao and asked with furrowed brows. "What?"
"There is a period," Xin Yao said softly, "a span of grace." She added, "From birth till twelve, children are not held accountable."
"They are learning — growing." She explained. "The gods overlook their missteps."
A pause, before Yao continued.
"But your son was born knowing." Her gaze hardened, not with cruelty, but truth. "And though he could hide behind a technicality, he won't."
"That is the price of awareness," Yao said, calm but unyielding. "And Kyorin… Kyorin bears that burden more clearly than anyone."
Xia's voice wavered. "Then why… why would the gods give him such a curse?"
Xin Yao answered without hesitation. "Perhaps... there is a reason beyond our understanding, meant for the welfare of the entire universe." Yao's eyes narrowed as she gazed at the unfolding.
"That is why... she is unjust to Kyorin." She paused and added, "Perhaps Kyorin is an anomaly in her design."
Xia's brows knitted. "Does... she fear him?"
A faint, knowing smile flickered on Xin Yao's lips — brief, almost hidden. "Fear is born of the unknown. But Kyorin… he is no mystery to her. She knows him down to the threads of his soul."
Xia's voice dropped to a whisper. "Then… she does not fear him?"
Xin Yao looked up, her voice dropping lower, colder — each word falling like a stone.
"No." She gazed at Xia with a confident smile. "She is terrified of him."
To be continued...