Chapter Text
Thirty Years Ago
Zhao Wan’er sank to the ground, her legs buckling underneath her. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the dirt. Her palms sank into the muddy soil, her face downturned as she began to cry. Her tears dripped onto the soil, the salty taste of them filling her mouth. Her breathing came out in weak but panicked gasps, her chest rising and falling erratically as she continued to kneel there. Her lips quivered, her teeth biting into them unconsciously. The blood on her hands and her knees, the devastation of it all slowly sinking in. Her palms were raw and pink, her fingers stinging from clutching the rocks. The world became wobbly as tears blurred her vision, and all she wanted to do was scream.
Her eyes glanced briefly to the side, catching on a figure lying in the grass, unmoving.
A fox spirit was on the ground, her body facing upward towards the sky. Her mouth twisted in fear and anger as she stared unblinking. Her palms faced the heavens, her gesture oddly peaceful for her final moments. Blood seeped into the front of her hanfu, a fiery bloom beginning to blossom on her chest. Whereas the demon should’ve been smiling, dancing around Zhao Wan’er as she always did, she instead laid on the ground, dead. After a few more moments, the body slowly dissipated, and the glowing light was far too beautiful for such a gruesome fate. Another fallen demon that Zhao Wan’er failed to protect.
Another beloved being that Zhao Wan’er would have to bear the weight of guilt for the rest of her short existence.
Tears welled up in her eyes, her sorrow spilling down her face into the ground. The fragments of pain that no words could express overflow from her eyes, her scarred palms lifting up to cradle her face as she sobbed. Her cry was ugly, an ear-piercing wail that shook her entire being.
But she no longer cared.
She slowly parted her fingers from where they clutched around her face, and her eyes caught onto another fallen demon. A child this time, a very young one who had sought her protection not long ago. The child’s body was broken, its limbs curled in on itself, hoping to protect what was left. Its face was bruised and battered, splatters of blue and purple coloring the youthful face. She dragged herself over to the fallen child, her scarred palms stinging as she clutched onto the rocks for support. She paused briefly, a cry wanting to erupt from her lips at the pain crackling within her wounded hands. She pulled the small body up into her arms to hug it tightly. She held the child in her arms, more tears welling in her eyes. The body was already cold, and the spirit had slowly begun to depart. She buried her face in the child’s soft hair, her bloody palms coming up to comb through the bloodstained, tangled waves. She pulled back slightly before leaning in to kiss the child’s forehead, her tears slipping down her face onto its own.
I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.
Within her grasp, the child slowly began to dissipate, its form becoming fractured pieces of light that slowly dissolved into the endless sky above her. She looked up, her eyes watching as the demon child’s spirit departed. Her heart sank again, and her mind slowly became numb.
She wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
She let out a shaky laugh, her mouth twisting in regret and self-loathing. Her palms lied by her sides, unmoving. She lifted her head, wanting to curse at the heavens who had forsaken her.
The heavens that had forsaken the beings below that they had sworn to protect.
How useless she was.
She looked downward, and saw something glittering within the dark soil. She slowly gathered herself to stand up, her legs stumbling over themselves as she desperately tried to reach the object. She sank to her knees before it, her fingers sinking into the soil as she tried to grab it. She raised it to her face, her blurry vision trying to focus on it. A pendant attached to thread was held in her hands, a beautiful carving etched into the jade that hung at the end of it. Upon closer inspection, her heart sank as she recognized it.
A pendant she had made and gifted him when he promised to protect the Wilderness with her. With a heavy heart, she clutched it tightly in her hands as she remembered the memories she had desperately pushed out of mind, out of sight.
She saw his face pressed into the dirt, his eyes fluttering closed as his head made contact with the ground.
The mocking laughter of those humans echoing in her ears, as the remaining demons held her back from running over to him. From killing the men who dared to hurt him.
“Let me go, please!” She screamed at the demons who held her back, tears welling in her eyes. "He's going to die!"
“The Great Demon has made his choice, my goddess. We cannot interfere with that, nor can you.” One demon stated simply, his eyes glimmering with sympathy.
But she didn’t want sympathy. She didn’t want herself to be saved at the expense of them.
She didn’t want him to die for her.
She screamed his name, her palms sinking into the dirt below her as she fell to her knees. The demons held her in place, one encircling her shoulders with his forearm, his hold on her as strong as iron. She fought against the demon’s grip, desperately trying to reach out. Her raised palm splayed out, trying to reach him. Hoping that she could save him, and if she couldn’t, hopefully she could bring him some comfort.
Although she was the Bai Ze Goddess, she could do nothing but watch.
She couldn’t even save the beings she had sworn to protect. She was a failure to her ancestral line of goddesses. A failure to the particular goddess who had given her the duty of protecting the Great Demon who once stood by her side in the past. She had failed the goddess, she had failed the demon beings who placed their trust in her, she had failed him, and she had failed herself.
She watched as the dark chains encircled him, imprisoning him within their cruel embrace.
She saw the barbed edges piercing into his skin, pinpricks of blood welling on the bare skin around his clothing. A particularly vicious link digging into his chest, a blossoming vermillion hue quickly dying the white zhongyi underneath. The cascading waves of his black-grey hair tangled around the chain links, the strands becoming mangled and bloodstained.
The chains were a vicious mockery of her power.
Whereas her power was used to protect and restrain, these chains were born of cruelty and malice. They did not protect the ones they encircled, instead they tore into the victims bound within them.
Please. No. Stop.
You’re killing him.
But humans weren’t kind. Their compassion never extended to demons.
Because the humans had won.
And they had lost.
The Great Demon’s face had turned to her before he stepped forward, his gaze calm but brimming with care and affection.
His voice appeared in her mind, stern but gentle as always.
“No need to shed tears for me, my goddess. Save your tears for the beings that most need you, do not waste it on someone like me.” A faint smile tilted up the edge of his lips, his eyes crinkling slightly in the corners.
She wanted to cry more at those calmly-said words, wanting to scream that he couldn’t go forward.
She wanted to scream that he couldn’t leave her behind.
You’re going to die, Great Demon. Please. Don’t leave me. They will hurt you.
They will kill you, and I can’t bear that. I can’t bear to see you die.
Don’t leave me alone.
You promised to be by my side, and protect the Wilderness with me for as long as I lived.
Did you forget, Zhu Yan?
His eyes searched her crestfallen face, perhaps realizing her true thoughts and feelings. His gaze left hers, his face returning to look forward. His body turned away from her, his shoulders straightening. He said nothing further, not even a simple promise of “I’ll return to your side.”
Because even that was not guaranteed.
And now she was left alone, surrounded by the death entirely created from her failure. Surrounded by the demons that had fallen in order to protect her.
She was left to grieve by herself, left to wallow in pain as she slowly became numb and unfeeling. Her shoulders were hunched over, her body shaking erratically as another wet gasp left her mouth.
She had felt a piece of herself splinter off; her other half being cut away and removed from the very makeup of her soul.
She was alone, so very alone.
She was left alone to mourn the peace that had been irreversibly stolen from them.
Left alone to grieve the dead demons that surrounded her at her feet, their eyes staring unblinkingly as they looked up at the endless ether.
Left alone to grieve for the demon who knew her best, even better than she knew herself.
Grieve for her other half, the demon who would now die because of her.
She sank to the ground, fainting as her knees buckled. She clutched the pendant tightly, trying to grasp onto the last bit of parting warmth present within its shared promise.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Present
Zhuo Yichen looked at the wall, his eyes glancing up at an ancient painting that sat above the hall. His eyes caught on the figure in the middle, shrouded in light. Golden thread and paint encircled the figure, entwined wisps of her power etched in every surface. Dark brown hair swarmed around her outstretched arms, the long cascading waves unbound and unadorned. The woman’s expression was calm and unexpressive.
Her hands faced palms up to the heavens, golden shards of light reflecting out of them. Her eyes reflected a hidden sorrow, as if she had seen far too much. As if she had seen and felt too much sorrow and pain. His eyes shifted to the figure behind her, half shadowed by her body as well as the power swirling around her. His body was turned in such a way that his face was only viewable from the side. Dark blackish-grey hair swirled around the figure, and his clothes were ragged and torn. The one eye that was discernible was completely dark, its gaze ancient, endless and so deep that it seemed to absorb all of the golden light around him. The being's mouth was set in a grim expression, perhaps a premonition of the event that would kill them both. Wisps of red and black swirled out of his hands, the dark twin to the goddess’ power.
At the painting’s center was the benevolent, impartial Baize Goddess.
And behind her, was the Beast of Chaos.
The Great Demon of the Wilderness.
But that was long ago.
There was no Baize Goddess to watch over and protect the lowly mortals now.
There was no Great Demon by her side, no moon that eclipsed the sun.
It has been 20,000 years since the fall of the Wilderness.
The gods are dead.
And the beasts that once roamed the land are gone.
His gaze left the painting, his fingers unconsciously clenching around the hilt of his sword, clutching onto the jewel-encrusted surface. He walked away from that haunting painting, feeling a sense of focus drilling into his back, a weighted sense of pressure piling onto his shoulders. A strange sense of fear and grief building within his heart.
He walked through the dark halls, a sense of foreboding weighing him down. His head downturned as he walked, stepping silently through the stone passageways.
He stepped outside, passing his sword to a waiting attendant. He spotted Commander Pei Sijing standing on the sandy field. She turned to face him, her expression blank but grim as always. He picked up two training swords, and lightly tossed one to her. She caught it, her eyes narrowing as he lowered himself into a prepared stance.
Pei Sijing observed him from afar, her eyes cold and mouth set without an expression. Her face, always carefully blank, as a killer should be. He swung the training sword, swiping her side lightly. Pei Sijing blocked the light blow, and offered a parry of her own. He leaned backward, bringing the training blade up to block his head from her attack.
She swung the blade gracefully, each strike not wasting any unnecessary energy. He deflected each block with careful precision, but he was slowly losing ground as he continued to take defensive steps backward.
The training sword within his hands began to crack as it blocked each strike, the wood splintering further and further within his grasp. It shattered into pieces, throwing him off balance. He fell to the ground, his gaze flickering up as Pei Sijing’s blade pointed one chi(尺) away from his throat.
Pei Sijing stated calmly, “Surrender.”
He raised his hands as a gesture of acceptance, before pushing himself off the ground. He glanced past her, spotting her brother leaning against one of the pillars. Pei Siheng walked forward, his expression blank. Zhuo Yichen set the blade aside, handing it to an attendant before retrieving his own. He gazed at the scabbard briefly, before attaching it at his hip.
Pei Sijing turned her attention to him, her gaze searching for answers.
“Zhuo Yichen. What was the assignment he gave you?”
He stiffened at her question, his heart pausing for a moment before it tentatively began to beat again.
“Kill the human Bai Ze Goddess.”
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Zhuo Yichen descended the stone stairs of the prison alone, his vision slowly leaving him with each step. Surrounded in shadows, the silence became deafening. Only his unsteady breathing and the murmur of his quickening heartbeat could be heard.
The piercing doubt began to sink in, pins and needles seemed to dance under his skin. He continued forward, each one of his steps thudding with uncertainty. His legs felt heavy, like moving pillars made out of stone. Zhuo Yichen’s hands shook by his sides, itching to reach for the sword he kept at his hip.
The prison was a labyrinth of dark pathways, always unlit besides the rare occasions that someone within was being questioned. The air within was stiff and unmoving, and a scent of rotting mildew as well as spewed bile was the only thing that accompanied him. He walked further down into the prison, bypassing the cells of broken men who had betrayed the kingdom. His footsteps echoed by, and he made brief glances to the side as he walked. More than once, his gaze caught onto the prisoners, who looked back at him blankly. Their stares were empty and emotionless, left behind as blank slates after what had happened to them. Emotionless puppets to be used for the kingdom’s bidding, mindless soldiers once they left their imprisonment. He shuddered, his mind recalling the endless screaming as he walked outside the prison walls. The wailing of grief and experienced torture, and the pain of the human experience within these dark cells. He recalled the viciousness of those mindless soldiers, killing both the guilty and the innocent alike.
He continued to walk down the corridor, the clamoring and the wails of those people slowly quieting down as he got closer to that solitary door. The door was large, the iron covering it was etched with many different seals and barriers. To keep the creature bound within, and to keep others out.
He unlocked the demon seals placed upon the doors, the mechanism softly clicking in place as he began to turn the handle. The door slowly creaked open, worn and rusty from disuse. He pushed open the dark metal door, taking one hesitant step through it after another. Within was a sightless depth, his own vision could hardly see more than a few steps in front of him.
A singular cell stood at the end of the hall. A prison housing the kingdom’s greatest enemy, yet its enemy was also its greatest tool.
Zhuo Yichen. He is powerless. He cannot kill you at this moment.
G̸̢̨̦̙͔̺̘̀͐́̍̉͑͊̉͒̚ǫ̴̛̻͕͓̏̂̕͠d̸͎͛́̋͆̉͊̍ ̶͇̩͚̬̩͉͓͇͛̇́̓̌͊̈Ķ̶͖̙͎̻̩͉̠̣̫̑́ḯ̶̧͖͓͇̭̲̬̹̠̘̀̈́̓͆l̴̩̥͎̟͓̲̱̬͒̓͂̂͑̕̕l̶̦̀ẽ̵̡̠̙̥̫͇̬̾̓̈̚͠͝r̸̙̦̺̙̫̮͂
A haunted symphony of voices interrupted his troubled thoughts. Although the title was softly spoken, its tone revealed hidden resentment. Zhuo Yichen paused, his feet rapidly losing the will to move forward. His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword that rested at his hip, the gleaming gem upon its pommel glowing blue.
The demon is free from his imprisonment.
The voice was different. Its words were haunting and eerie, yet rich in tonal quality. The words curled around his mind, the masked hatred within each syllable of the title seeping into his bones. He shuddered unknowingly, sensing the being taking a step closer to him.
w̸̩̙̱̫̙͓̓͒̿̄͗h̷̛̗̀͑͊̄̃̒ỳ̴̮̹̥̼̬̤̖͚̿̀̚̚ͅ ̶̞̺͂̏̾̓͆̽̉̆̔͂h̷̛̝̠̆͂͋͋͝a̴̝̹̥̺̼̖̯̔v̷̥͂͂̏̂̐͊̾̕͠e̷̛̘̪̤̹̘̊̄͐̎͌̈́͜ ̶̺̺͂̌̎͝y̵̞̜̺̦̭̣̯͗̑̉̍͑ͅō̸̞͛̄̔͐̾̈́ų̵͎̼͉̜̖͗̎̀͛̃́̊̂̕ ̴̱̹̹̳̲̈̄͑̿c̶̢̧̥̯̫̩̳̠͔̐̍͜o̸̢͓̙̼̜͖̘͊̓̂̓̇͠m̷̡̬͇͚̅̓͗͒̊͑́͝e̸̖̙̭̅͝?̶̪̫͌̎̾̑̀̈́̀̃́͠
The next words, a question, was a whisper that brushed against his ear. The warmth breath of its speaker fanned upon his neck, making Zhuo Yichen unconsciously reach up to cover the blue demonic marks alighting around his neck. He whirled around in the direction of the voice, his hand reaching out to grasp onto the person who spoke to him. A soft chuckle sounded next to the other side of his head.
Toying with him.
A rustle of movement brushed by his hand, the coarse fabric touching the back of his hand briefly. He reached out to grasp onto the departing strands, but all he could grasp onto was the still air.
Little God-killer, what do you seek?
He raised the sword from his hip, the light casting a faint blue glow on the person in front of him.
In front of him… was the monster from his nightmares.
If the gods had truly fallen, this beast had replaced them.
The demon had paused in place, standing there in front of him. The creature’s face was expressionless, no slight twitch of the mouth or eyebrows occurred.
Only a faint vermillion glow emitted from its gaze.
He placed the sword on the side of its throat, applying slight pressure onto the demon’s neck. Blood welled over the blade, the fluid dripping down onto the stone floor. The quiet drip broke the silence, yet the demon made no moment, simply letting the blade rest against its throat. Instead, the demon’s eyes flickered, the crimson seeping out as if blood dried up within his gaze. The dark demonic marks adorning his cheekbones glimmered softly as the vermillion coloring left his eyes.
“They sent a child to finish the job?” The voice was flat and direct, and his eyes lowered into a half-lidded state.
Zhuo Yichen bristled at the demon’s choice of words, his hand shifting to press the blade harder into the skin. More blood slid down the blade’s edge, strengthening the emitting light. The light cast shadows across the demon’s face, one side becoming more sinister.
The demon’s gaze shifted its focus to the sword, a soft murmur coming out of its mouth. The tone was rather disembodied, a bit airy in its delivery.
“Yunguang jian. Never thought I would see it again.”
Words that were strange, as the demon had never met one of his ancestors.
Zhuo Yichen stiffened, sensing that the demon had stepped closer to him. Before Zhuo Yichen could stop him, the demon slid his palm along the sharp edge. More blood slid down the blade, its glow strengthening with each drop. The demon pushed the blade against his neck away, and stepped forward faster than Zhuo Yichen could back up. He pressed his bloody palm to cover Zhuo Yichen’s parted lips, his fingers braced against each side of his face to keep him from moving.
Zhuo Yichen shuddered, trying to break free from the iron grip on his face. The grip was warm yet painful, the demon's palms burning as they touched his mouth and face. The iron taste washed over his tongue, his system filling with the dark energy coursing through the blood. The demon marks adorning his throat began to crackle with energy, glowing faintly blue in the darkness of the prison.
Zhuo Yichen looked at the demon, tears pricking his eyes as he struggled to breathe. The demon’s gaze pointed at his throat, watching the marks that glowed faintly. A death sentence if they were ever discovered.
A faint glimmer of interest flickered within the demon’s eyes, his mouth twisting in amusement.
“Do those humans know what you are? Little demon?” He drawled softly, his voice silky with something unexplainable.
Zhuo Yichen grasped onto the hand covering his mouth, and wrenched it away from his face. His body shook, his lungs inhaling rapidly all the air that he had been prevented from breathing in.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Zhuo Yichen rasped out, his voice shaking. The demon observed him, his eyes still focused on the demonic marks that coursed through Zhuo Yichen's skin.
“Do not play dumb with me, fledgling. Hiding it or not, I can recognize my own kind. And no doubt, those humans can too.” The demon calmly stated, his gaze searching for answers Zhuo Yichen didn’t have. He watched as Zhuo Yichen unconsciously froze at his words, a glimmer of something unsaid welling within his gaze.
The demon was right. They would know soon enough, and he would die. The only reason he was alive was the fact that he was a useful tool for the King. Once he outlived his usefulness, he’d be dead.
Zhuo Yichen’s hand went up to clutch at the disheveled fabric, bringing it close to cover the marks. His body still shuddered, the energy that he could hardly call his own desperately pushing back against the dark energy slipping through every part of him. The sinister wisps of malignant energy pooling into his body warmly, melting the ice that normally consumed him. It slithered within him like a snake, curling around his heart. It also reached towards his dimly lit neidan, prodding at the energy that sat dormant within it. He used the energy within to expel the intruder, pushing it down and out of him. He gasped quietly, his eyes widening as his neidan awoke.
“Don’t restrict yourself to your foolish human limits. You see how weak humans are, how needy they become.” The demon breathed, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “ Embrace it .”
“I may be a demon, but I will never be a lowly beast like you.” His words were harsh, each sharper than the last. He shuddered once again, the energy pooling within becoming suffocating. The energy flows within him, his eyes welling with unshed tears as it becomes stronger. The demon stared at him for a moment, the smirk slipping from his face.
"Lowly beast, huh..." His mouth twisted up in slight amusement, before his index finger began to glow. He raised the finger up to his lips, whispering a single word that Zhuo Yichen failed to hear.
Zhuo Yichen trembled as the energy began to surge within him. It sank into him, large waves of it pushing into his body. The malignant energy crackled within him, entering every part of him that wasn't already filled with his own demonic energy. It clashed with his energy with renewed force, and Zhuo Yichen felt every strike and rebound of it.
Zhuo Yichen quivered, the overflow of energy soon becoming too much.
The demon watched him tremble with a calculating gaze, his lips curling upward.
ẅ̷̹̖̘̱͔͎́͛̓͒̆̏͑̾͠ö̸̢͖̘̤͓́̍̔͠ų̷͚̹͕͕̦̍̾͒͐͊͂̐̿͐͝l̵̹̩̞͖̣̣͔̫͋̀̏͆̋̀̕d̸̫͓̫͓̈́ ̸̲͖̼͔̞͑̓͊͂̅̑̎͜ý̸̭̻͇̀͐̐̓͋͆̉͑͝o̴̞͙̜̯̱̺̫͝u̸̼̟̦͚̗̝̪̹̹̇͑̍̀̉́̀̏̏̕ ̶̧̹̌̌́̿̀̈́̀̆͂l̷̢̯̲̘͉̠̀̈̿͝͝ĭ̶̠̱̍̿̽̍̋k̷̛̮̦͛̍͛̂̋̾̌̽͘e̷̛̗̞̙̥͎̯ ̶̛̳͇͔̠̊̔̉̌̿̆͋̋͠m̴̨̬̝̬̘̋é̴͚͚̣̙̳͙͛͒̒̈́̏̈́̋̚ ̴̧̨̛̠̭̐̽͊t̸͉̣̤͙͇͌̍͑̍ͅő̵͖̩̞͔͒ ̷̰̟̣̦̲̜̗̂h̶̝̥̥̬͂̇è̴̺͕͔̲̖̏̾̿͂̀̌͊̕͜l̸̨̗͍͖̥̗͒͐̊̑͛͝p̵͕̝͖͋̾͊ ̶̳̃̀̌̂̉̈̄͘͝y̴̢̜̯̖̘͉̠̳̽̄̑o̶̒͒̽͂͊͜ͅư̶͙͍̺̯̖̩̬̳̥͔̓̾̄̉̃̈̐̐?̷͙̯̘̅͘
The honeyed words probed at his mind, energy trying to slip inside with each syllable. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Trying to refuse.
"A lowly beast..." his voice came out trembling, "A monster trapped in a cage. That's all you ever were, and that's all you ever will be. I would never become a beast like you." His voice dropped into a weakened whisper, his hand lifting up to clutch at the crackling pain erupting from his chest. The demon let out a scoff at his words.
“Being a lowly beast is better than being anything like those sick fucks.” The demon spat, his eyes glimmering with hatred.
“Sick fucks?” Zhuo Yichen scoffed, his voice coming out grating and weary,“You are worse than them. It’s a pity, really. The goddess you claim to have protected twenty thousand years ago was human, just. like. them. Was she a “sick fuck” like the rest of them, as you say?”
The demon chose to say nothing, his eyes burning with simmering hatred.
Zhuo Yichen said softly, “She would hate what you have become.” His gaze flickered up, finding that the demon’s expression seemed to shutter at his words, before quickly becoming expressionless once again.
“The goddess is long dead. I do not care if she hates me.” The demon stated evenly.
“But you do. You do care.” He paused before continuing, "And that makes you just like a human. You claim to hate humans, but you are no different from them.” Zhuo Yichen replied, lowering the sword to his side.
“I’d rather die than be a human.” His voice was cold, but emotion crackled into the words until they splintered into pieces. The visceral hatred returned, venom dripping from each syllable as it left his mouth.
“If you were a human, you wouldn’t have lost all those years ago.” Zhuo Yichen stated louder than before, his mind confused as to when he decided to provoke the demon in front of him. But he could not take those words back. His body stilled for a moment, his eyes focusing on the brief flicker of emotions that appeared on the demon's face.
“And if you didn’t care, there would be no reason to return to this world, and no reason to stay by the human Bai Ze goddess’ side.” He said, his voice lowering into a softer tone.
The demon stared at him for a moment, before laughing. His eyes widened, his mouth parting to let out more laughter as he leaned back slightly. But it wasn’t a laugh full of joy or pleasure. It was a laugh of madness and despair. The demon before him crackled with misery, the hatred having seeped into him until he was a mere shell of his former self.
The laughter was full of pain and grief that was never resolved after many millennia. The pain festered within like a disease, a parasitic feeling clinging to its host, weakening the mind and body as the hatred grew stronger.
The demon knowingly drowned in the grief that threatened to consume him, averting his eyes from the flood of poisonous emotions that coursed through within.
The humans he had passed in their cells, as well as the soldiers who stared back at him emotionlessly, were no more broken than the demon in front of him.
The laugh slowly silenced, his eyes glimmering with something that Zhuo Yichen deciphered as being akin to tears.
“You know nothing, child.” His voice was softer as it left his mouth, the venom temporarily leaving his poisonous words. The crackling pain within Zhuo Yichen seemed to dissipate, leaving him feeling emptier than before.
The demon stepped forward once again and his hand shot out to grip the front of his hanfu, causing Zhuo Yichen to stumble forward. The demon’s hand gripped him tighter, the nails lightly grazing his demonic marks. The demon pulled him close and whispered into his ear.
“First off, do not act as if you understand or know me. You do not, and believing that you do makes you a fool. You know nothing of what happened to the Wilderness, and you will never be able to understand it.” The demon stated calmly. He paused before continuing, his grip tightening around the hanfu fabric around Zhuo Yichen’s throat.
His nails lazily grazed once more along Zhuo Yichen’s demonic marks, before curving his hands until the nails pricked Zhuo Yichen’s skin. Zhuo Yichen let out a pained gasp, his hand grasping onto the hand placed on his throat.
“Secondly, do not act as if releasing me from here will be anything but a death sentence. He may have ordered you to do so, yet it seems you are too naive to recognize his intentions. You will die today, Descendant of Bing Yi.” He bristled at the title, his heart hammering dangerously in his chest. “I will survive as they can’t bear to lose their war spoil, but you on the other hand. Expendable. It's good that you realize true human nature now, before it's too late.” He drawled faintly.
The last word was practically pressed into his ear, the lips of the creature brushing against his face as he turned to stare at him.
“No one is dying today.” He croaked out, pushing the demon back. The demon let out a chuckle at his words, shaking his head ruefully.
“A fool, then.” The demon breathed out, his lips curling in mocking amusement.
Zhuo Yichen had no words to say in reply.
The demon breezed by him like a phantom at his silence, the coarse fabric draped on him rustling as he walked.
“Puppets should know when to fight against their makers, but also know when to lie down and take it. You know your only option at this point.” He tossed back as he walked towards the cellar stairs.
He followed behind the demon silently, his steps lighter and unhurried. He said nothing in response.
The true puppet was never me.
The demon pushed open the large door, not even struggling with the weight of it. Zhuo Yichen followed after him, walking past the rows and rows of prison cells. Some of the more alert “humans” clamored, reaching out to grasp onto them as they passed by. Some of the braver ones tried to reach through the bars and clutch onto the still-bleeding palm of the demon, reaching for the bloody salvation they all sought. A reprieve for their pain, a calming balm that blood had become. A blessing and a curse. The blood could cure them of their ailments, yet the same blood was the reason for their suffering. It imprisoned them, and made them into mindless puppets. But it also gave them release, it gave them a way to escape themselves. The demon paused for a moment, his gaze pointed at the human whose palms shook as they grasped onto the metal bars, their face pressed up against the metal as they weakly gazed up at him. The demon pricked one of his fingers with a nail, and slid his finger through the gaps of the bars. The human lifted his own head expectedly, his mouth parting eagerly. The demon let a few vermillion drops leave his finger, his thumbnail pressing into the skin so his index finger would release more. He retracted his hand after a moment, and began to walk again. The guard who stood by as they passed, nodded curtly at Zhuo Yichen before slamming his gloved palm against the metal bars.
"Be quiet!" The guard yelled at those human puppets, as they dispersed back into the darkness.
“Only a fool would dare to play god.” were the only words that left the demon’s mouth, his face not even turning to look back at Zhuo Yichen.
They both stepped up the stairs, the light slowly filtering in and brightening the demon in front of him. Zhuo Yichen’s eyes slowly adjusted to the light, his gaze briefly catching on to the revealed appearance of the demon before him.
The demon’s clothes were ragged and dark, thin strips of red blended under the torn black fabric. The sleeves rustled in the wind, like wisps of smoke. A spectre made up of nightmares, an immortal being walking amongst the humans who had overthrown them. He paused for a moment after leaving the stairs, turning back to look at Zhuo Yichen. His almond eyes were dark abyssal pools, the depth within endless and all-consuming.
Just like in the painting.
In the painting, the demon’s gaze was deep and ancient, as was the demon who glared across from him within the prison, his eyes pained and brimming with intensity.
But the demon that stood before him was almost unlike the painting in a way.
Whereas the gaze of the demon depicted within the painting was empty and grim, the one before him had eyes full of deep misery and hatred.
For all the demon despised humans, and would rather die than be like them, he was truly human-like in that way.
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