Xin-Wei's paws thudded against the grass in hypnotizing succession. Nao-Zai rode on the Divine Beast's back once more, holding An-Ri by a fistful of her fenhai. The spirit has woken up earlier and decided it'd be fun to slide off the tiger's hide while it was moving at a dizzying speed. It's not like she'd die once she splat on the ground, but Nao-Zai preferred to have her by when he met Kai-Se again.

That was, if he met Kai-Se again.

He gritted his teeth and shook his head, flushing his latest thought out of his system. Of course, he'd see Kai-Se. There's no way he wouldn't.

They had been running for what seemed like an eternity. After being here for quite some time, he had gotten used to the vast nothingness enough to make out silhouettes of mountains, valleys, and grasslands.

The exhiliration still hasn't left Nao-Zai's gut brought about by the initial leap Xin-Wei did when they first left the mansion. At first, he wondered how the Divine Beast would get by the moment the ground ran out. To his surprise, the tiger merely did a graceful leap, stretching its legs so that they arced through the void. Instead of plummeting to their deaths, Xin-Wei's paws thumped against a glass-like surface of the same size. Nao-Zai had been sure those weren't going to be there when he tried walking, so he tucked his limbs and An-Ri closer as the Divine Beast bounded forward, their entire weight held by faint tinkles.

Soon, a dark line formed in the distance like how a strip of land would when one has seen ocean for endless stretches of water and time. The same excitement blossomed inside Nao-Zai even if he denied it. Perhaps, it was the "mortalness" in him. An-Ri didn't appear concerned about their destination and Xin-Wei had been trodding through the expanse of darkness for who-knew-how-long. There's something about seeing stable ground sending relief in waves in his system.

The tiger's paws touched down on more grass. Nao-Zai looked back to where they came from. As expected, the mansion was nowhere to be found, lost in the thick curtain and blanket of black dappled with silver. They really did run from west to east.

Then, the muscles on Xin-Wei's neck tensed and the tiger burst forward, as if their initial run didn't faze it. Its tail whished along with the motion, keeping the beast's balance althroughout. Now that Nao-Zai noticed it, there was no wind even when Xin-Wei was running at full speed. No breeze pushing back against them and driving his hair off his face. Their clothes didn't rustle. The grass stayed still unless crunched underfoot—underpaw?—by Xin-Wei.

Well, since this was the Divine Plane, perhaps the natural laws of the mortal realm didn't apply here. Nao-Zai has to get used to that. At least the sky wasn't the color of blood, like in Shaoryeong, basing from what Kai-Se told him.

The memory of that night burned at the back of Nao-Zai's mind like paper crumbling to ash. If he stared at it too long, if he dwelled in it to the point of remembering the details, then it might just vanish, leaving him with nothing. It was their first night together in Trahn-gwok-tan, and Kai-Se told him everything he experienced in Shaoryeong, holding nothing back.

Nao-Zai recalled the smell of incense, the warmth of Kai-Se's body as it pressed against him, and the smile lighting up his face, which had been deathly pale and lifeless a few hours ago. He held his hand to his face. The nights his fingers lost their way along Kai-Se's soft strands seemed far away now. They seemed like a lifetime ago.

These past few weeks...they took a toll on both of them. And it might have taken more than that too.

Why had Kai-Se allowed himself to be trapped by Han-Xi? Was it because of Nao-Zai? If so, did he even want to see Nao-Zai after they did more than snipe at each other during the last night they're together?

"Hey, Xin-Wei," Nao-Zai gave the beast's neck a light tap. A low huff told him the tiger was listening. "You mentioned tragedy happening with Han-Xi and Kai-Se's previous life. What exactly happened for it to be categorized as that?"

Something rumbled beneath the tiger's flank. "Death," it answered. It swerved around one trunk before they collided with it head on. Nao-Zai's grip on its fur and on An-Ri tightened. That's close. "Due to Han-Xi's meddling in those lives, they have led to death. Sometimes, one. Most often, more than."

Nao-Zai chewed on his lip as he righted himself and An-Ri atop Xin-Wei's back. "And the world Han-Xi has created," he said. "Does it involve those previous lifetimes?"

"Certainly," the tiger said. It bounded over a fallen log that came out of nowhere. Nao-Zai wouldn't have seen it had he been the one running. It's like the forest didn't want them to be here and would rather throw surprises on their way. "Han-Xi is not the type to relinquish things they hold dear. You can expect they have revived every lifetime. But that doesn't erase the fate attached with each one."

He knitted his eyebrows as a frown pulled at the corners of his lips. "Wait, does that mean Kai-Se is being forced to live out each those lives?" he said. "And if they all lead to death, then..."

Various cries of creatures Nao-Zai would never want to see rang in the distance. They resembled the panic and dread twinging his gut, tying it into tight knots. "Kai-Se experiences the pain and grief in every single one of them."

Nao-Zai cursed. Was that why Xin-Wei claimed it would eventually destroy Kai-Se's mind? Cruel. That's beyond cruel. If doing this to someone—a mortal, nonetheless—was supposed to be love, then the world deserved to end. Truly.

The dark forest only thickened as Xin-Wei followed the path Nao-Zai could only trust it knew. If possible, the aggressive cries of the creatures hiding in the darkness turned blaring. Nao-Zai cradled An-Ri closer, her ears already twitching too much from the overload of stimulants. She couldn't be comfortable at this point.

He ran his hand down her arms, providing what meager comfort he could. Xin-Wei slowed to a walk when a void darker than the rest of the sky loomed in the immediate distance. He squinted, even though the act made no difference to what he was already perceiving. The tiger bounded with not an ounce of hesitation, although its tail swishes dulled into wary lilts.

"We have arrived," Xin-Wei declared. Its voice tore through the abyss, echoing all the way through. Whoever's inside would have heard it by now. "I am entering, whether you allow it or not."

Nao-Zai didn't dare slide off Xin-Wei's back and walk on his own two feet. The tiger ducked its head into the archway, touching its snout into the ground. Then, taking a step forward, they were inside. The darkness was so thick Nao-Zai felt its nonexistent hands grip his throat and start squeezing. His breaths came in strangled gasps the farther Xin-Wei went. An-Ri began squirming, her frightened squeaks barely audible in Nao-Zai's ringing ears. With numb fingers, he pressed her closer to him and resolved to never let go.

"Xin-Wei," he blurted. "Who are we meeting?"

"How dare you bring an uneducated mortal in my abode?" a new voice rumbled in the inky air. In the darkness, it seemed to come from every direction. "How low have you sunken, Ivory Tiger?"

Xin-Wei's snarl was low. The sound of claws scratching against stone rang as stringently as the new beast's voice. "What about you? Is hiding in fetid caves your new past time?" it answered. "I have to say, it's pathetic."

Light flashed from what Nao-Zai guessed to be the end of the cave. The sudden rays of brightness slapped his eyeballs so suddenly it might have burned his retinas to ashes. A hitched cry didn't quite escape his lips as he stumbled backwards. His weight landed on his wrist as he tried to catch himself. Then, the world jerked and spun. What—

"Don't you have any shame, showing up here after what you did five hundred years ago?" the other beast demanded. Xin-Wei growled and swerved without warning. If not for Nao-Zai's half-blind and desperate hold on its fur, he would have tumbled off the tiger's hide and landed with a splat on the ground. If there was even a ground in this cave. For all he knew, more pitless void awaited him.

Just what was happening? Who was this second beast?

Xin-Wei yowled—too much like a cat for Nao-Zai to completely ignore. The way they're moving about with flashes of silver and emerald lighting up the darkness in streaks and embers indicated they're fighting. What for? Shouldn't they be friends? What happened to the plan of stopping Han-Xi if they couldn't even get along among themselves?

"It is for the sake of virtue," Xin-Wei defended against the second beast's allegation. "We are the Pillars of this world. We set the example. And according to the virtues, the wise forgives once."

A derisive laugh rang in the darkness. Xin-Wei dodged to the side just as a mass of shadows whizzed through the darkness. Whatever it was caused the faintest glint to reflect into Nao-Zai's vision. It reminded him of a polished shield. No, a mirror. A sheet of ice, maybe?

"You and your damned virtues," the beast hissed. "Because of you, look where we are now."

Xin-Wei lunged and swept its paw at the oncoming but unseen attack. Its claws screeched against something Nao-Zai could only attributte to stone. Sparks burned bright against the darkness seeimgly curling around the second beast. "That is why I came, Reol-Je," the tiger snarled. Its huffs added to the thickening air around them. "It's time to correct our mistakes. Let us not waste time fighting this fruitless war."

The second beast scoffed. "Now you realize it. Now you come crawling back to me because you know you can't do it alone," it said. "Why? You finally realized how Han-Xi would never see you, that their eyes was only on that fragile mortal who dies far too often?"

Wait. What? Xin-Wei and Han-Xi had a thing? And this Reol-Je...the hurt dancing in its voice was far too raw for someone who didn't care about what the Ivory Tiger and the Amber Dragon had going on.

"That's not my reason for coming here, Reol-Je. You know that," Xin-Wei lowered its head and met the beast in a head-on collision. Nao-Zai hung on for dear life. The tiger snarled, its paws skidding against the cave's floor in a series of scratches. A weight pressed against its head, resulting in another set of crunches and groans. "Han-Xi has done it. They have brought the Worldwalker in the Divine Plane. They built their worlds. I'm not the antagonist in this tale."

The voice rasped a humorless chuckle. "But you're the enabler," Reol-Je replied. "You brought us to this point. Let the Fate you believed in so much save you now. But it can't, can it? Because it doesn't exist to serve you. It only exists to serve itself and its whims. When will you see that, huh? When the world has frozen over and the pillars crumble to dust?"

Xin-Wei roared and lurched forward.

"Stop!" Nao-Zai yelled. The word echoed in the darkness rungs weaker than how Reol-Je's did. Both beasts stilled, judging from the silence in the air and the steps screeching into a halt. They're as surprised as him.

But they're all here. Might as well see it through. Nao-Zai blew a breath. "I didn't come here to listen to two overgrown brutes whine and snipe at each other," he said, incorporating a little of the reprimanding tone he only ever used when instructed to inflict punishment to delinquent officers. "While we're meandering here, Han-Xi is out there, manipulating the universe's energy and slowly driving a mortal to insanity. I thought you're Divine Beasts? How can you focus on futile things while your main duty is being threatened?"

"I know you don't care about us mortals, but I implore you with all my heart to help us," Nao-Zai continued. He knew the beasts could see him through the veil of darkness just fine, so he put a hand to his chest for added emphasis. Somewhere on his lap, An-Ri managed to amuse herself with the soft tufts of Xin-Wei's fur. "I don't know what happened between the Divine Beasts in the past, but we have a more pressing issue now."

Nao-Zai dropped his tone into a deadly edge. "Because if we don't act now, Han-Xi will continue to erode the balance you so valiantly fought to protect," he said. "And if we fail to stop the Amber Dragon, it's not just the mortals who will lose their realm. You would too."

He was greeted with silence. He decided to push it further. "You can hate each other after this. I don't really care since we must resolve our conflicts on the proper plane and realm," he said. "But for the sake of this mission—our worlds—can you please play nice?"

There. He has done it. If one of the beasts reach out and shove him into its mouth, he supposed he had it coming. Instead, Reol-Je snorted. "Bringing a mortal does have its merits," it said. "You have chosen a good head, Xin-Wei."

The tiger exhaled through its nose. Nao-Zai imagined its nostrils flaring. "I have Fate to thank for that," it replied. "If you are done sulking in your dingy cave, shall we?"

Slowly, the darkness ebbed, retreating like inky waves from the sandy shore. It left a trace of light, albeit still a bit dim. But now, Nao-Zai could glimpse of the owner of the new voice, the Divine Beast called Reol-Je. Standing a few steps from the cave's cul-de-sac was a tortoise of the same proportions as Xin-Wei.

And it's made of pure jade.