Chapter 22: Before the Break
The night wind stirred the curtains, whispering like someone half-asleep.
The lights in the dorm had long gone out, except for a single desk lamp. It cast a pale circle over pages filled with dense formulas. Nie Shi hadn't moved. He sat there, elbow resting on the desk, fingers tapping against his chin, his eyes locked on a blank space on the wall.
The equations meant nothing to him now. He had gone over them a dozen times—no, more. But they no longer held meaning. His thoughts ran in circles, chasing shadows.
Zhong Lan's voice echoed in his mind: "I'm not asking you to tell me everything.
But don't pretend everything's normal anymore." The words hit like a silent thunderclap, striking over and over.
Not an accusation. Not even doubt.
A calm, nearly cruel reminder.
He looked down at his hand.
Void wasn't there.
But its presence never faded — in fact, it was becoming more tangible.
Like something coiled deep inside him, slowly taking root.
He could feel a faint, constant trembling. A breath held too long.
Waiting.
Wanting.
Ready to break. "What exactly are you to me?" He whispered the question, barely audible.
No answer came.
Void was always quiet — except when it wasn't.
That silence was far worse than any noise.
It felt loaded. Expectant.
Like it was listening.
The next evening, the faculty wing on the south end of campus.
Few students ever entered. The halls were sterile and quiet, almost like time had thinned out here.
Fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead. The air smelled faintly of metal and disinfectant. There were no windows here, only pale walls and polished floors.
Nie Shi passed through the biometric scanner and pushed open the silver-gray door. His footsteps echoed sharply.
Zhong Lan stood alone at the control station. The lighting was a harsh white, casting crisp shadows over her sharp features. She looked tired. Sharper than usual. As if she had already predicted what was about to happen.
"You're here," she said with a nod.
"This is a private synchronization chamber." She gestured toward the circular platform in the center. "I've adjusted the parameters to simulate high-load Armament resonance."
"You won't be hurt," she added.
"In theory."
Nie Shi didn't respond.
He just walked forward, each step ringing softly against the metal floor.
Void materialized in his hand with a familiar ripple of shadow, the spear trembling faintly at the tip. It was colder than usual. He felt it pulse once, as if acknowledging the test. His fingers tightened around the shaft.
Zhong Lan's voice came through the intercom, quiet and firm:
"Beginning test."
The lights dimmed. The world outside vanished.
Only he and Void remained.
The pressure changed instantly. He felt it in his ears, in his bones—like diving too deep underwater.
That's when he heard it.
Not a hallucination.
A voice—buried deep within the Armament—like wind through ancient trees, like sorrow echoing through blood.
"You don't belong here." "…Do you want to know who I am?" Nie Shi's eyes widened.
The floor beneath him dissolved into ash-like dust, and he was pulled downward into a warped space.
He didn't lose consciousness.
But he lost his grip on reality. Suddenly, he stood in a black forest.
Thick fog choked the trees. The soil was pale and scorched, like something had burned the life out of it. The air smelled like smoke. The sky—if there was a sky—was hidden behind layers of darkness.
Void stood ahead of him, tip down, glowing faintly with cracks of light.
Then, a figure emerged—blurry, faceless, clad in a torn uniform and wrapped in the shattered fragments of a Memory Armament. They moved strangely, as if time didn't flow quite right around them.
Nie Shi tried to step closer.
His legs wouldn't move.
His body refused. "Who is that…?" he whispered.
The figure raised its hand.
Void pulsed in response.
Then—
The surge began. In the real world, alarms flared red on the monitoring panel.
"Resonance spike detected—subject synchronization out of bounds!"
Zhong Lan's expression tightened. She hit the emergency dampener key.
Nothing happened.
She cursed under her breath and turned to override it manually—but the system had locked her out.
At the chamber's core, Void erupted — its form expanding, spear vibrating violently as black tendrils surged outward, slamming into the containment walls. The containment field flickered. Cracks appeared in the reinforced barrier.
Nie Shi stood in the center, clutching his head, voice hoarse with pain.
"Stop—!!"
He tried to sever the link.
Too late.
He could no longer tell where he ended, and Void began.
His thoughts fractured. His memories spun in reverse. Something ancient and violent pressed in from all sides.
The chamber trembled violently. Emergency sirens howled. Down the hallway, far from the door, Lin Kui stood frozen, hand raised, about to knock.
She hadn't meant to approach—only to check. Just to make sure he was okay.
But she stopped cold.
She felt it — a wave of sorrow and rage crashing outward from the room.
It hit her like cold water to the chest. Her breath caught. Her legs wobbled.
She pressed her palm against the door, though she didn't know why.
Maybe she wanted to say something. Maybe she just wanted him to know she was there.
Her fingers curled slightly, and her lips parted—
But she said nothing.
Her fingers stayed raised, never knocking.
The lights inside flared—once, twice.
Then darkness.
She didn't turn away.
She waited anyway.