Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

New Kunlun. Origin Era, year 468.

Now.

The ride to the Council Chamber had never felt longer.

Yi was leaning against the back wall of the elevator, his eyes staring into nothingness. His claws were digging into his paws, and he welcomed those spikes of pain as a brief respite from the anxiety he was feeling. 

“Breathe,” Eigong nudged him quietly. He could see her with the corner of his eye: her posture perfectly straight, her head held high and her one hand resting on the railing while the other one was clutching a tablet to her chest.

He almost smiled to himself at her mask of flawless composure. He followed her suggestion, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

“I am,” she admitted. “But they need to hear it from me.”

Yi gave a nervous nod, then let the air out as the elevator arrived at the Root Pinnacle. Eigong adjusted her hold on her tablet and stepped out into the hallway. He trailed close behind her. He could feel his stabilizer’s rhythmic vibrations as it tried to soothe his heartbeat.

The ornate door opened before them, inviting them to the meeting that was about to change the course of history.

Twelve years earlier.

“...and thus what we now know as the Tianhuo virus originated,” concluded Eigong. Her words rang through the Council Chamber before fading into deadly silence.

Yi caught himself holding his breath. The tension in the room had been growing with every spoken sentence, and the fact Eigong had managed to deliver her entire speech in her usual matter-of-fact tone without ever losing her composure was nothing but striking.

If he hadn't known better, he'd have thought her emotionless—and he was acutely aware that was exactly what the rest of the Council must have been thinking right now. He could see it in their eyes: shock, disbelief, betrayal… Everything he’d felt just days before.

Yet, contrary to them, he’d learned the truth from a different Eigong: a tormented, guilt-ridden woman in a desperate need of reassurance. But right now all traces of that woman were gone, meticulously hidden behind the facade of the Council’s stoic leader.

And the contrast was honestly terrifying.

“E-esteemed Sol Eigong…” Yanlao spoke up, finally breaking the silence. His eyes were wide open, his small figure pressed against the back of his chair as if he wanted to sink into it and disappear. “Allow me to ensure that I understood correctly. Are you implying that…” he swallowed, dreading the words that were about to leave his mouth, “the Institute is responsible for the creation of the virus?”

“I am not implying that, I am starting a fact," said Eigong, her gaze locked on the old Sol. “But yes, your understanding is correct.”

“So… you knew all along?” said Nuwa. Yi could almost see in real time as she swiftly transitioned from the stage of denial to anger, leaning against the table and baring her fangs. “Then why the hell didn’t you tell us!”

“This piece of information is extremely sensitive.” Eigong seemed unmoved by the girl’s confrontational tone. “And considering the dangers it potentially poses in the wrong hands, I elected to keep the number of people informed to the absolute minimum.”

“You elected?” hissed Fuxi. “So you’re telling me you’ve essentially created the most efficient bioweapon of our era and decided not to tell your primary investors about it?”

“Investors? What about us?” Goumang was visibly struggling to control her voice. Her eyes were wide, fixated on her former mentor. “How can the Council operate if our very leader is withholding information from us?”

“The Feng Clan didn’t give you funds just so you could wipe the entire race out, Eigong!” spat Nuwa. Fuxi had to hold her with one arm to stop her from shaking.

Eigong opened her mouth, but Yi decided to beat her to it. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“Easy. I think we are missing the point here. We can all agree that putting solarians in danger was never Sol Eigong’s intention, and her decision to keep her findings secret was only meant to ensure our safety.”

Nuwa rolled her eyes theatrically, while Goumang glared at Yi with a low growl.

“And who let you speak, rookie?” she snarled.

“Temper your words.” There was a hint of warning in Eigong’s tone. “Sol Yi is equally a member of this Council as you or I, he needs no permission to voice his mind.”

Goumang leaned forward, almost baring her teeth at the older woman.

“Do not equate him with me,” she hissed. “We all know he’s in the Council only because you put him here!”

Eigong held her gaze, her expression perfectly still. 

“It is true that Sol Yi was my student,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I had suggested him for this position because I believed in his competence, however the decision to elect him as a Sol belonged to the entire Council.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think there’s any point in dragging Yi into this conversation,” said Kuafu. Goumang clenched her teeth.

“There isn’t? Then why is he the only one who doesn’t seem surprised by the news?” She turned to Yi. “You knew…”

The sheer rage and betrayal in her eyes filled him with a weird sense of guilt. He could feel other Sols’ gazes on him too: Kuafu, Nuwa, Lady Ethereal… all of them silently disappointed.

“I only found out a few days ago!” he countered. “Sol Eigong told me she was about to inform the rest of the Council as well.”

Goumang huffed, arms crossed over her chest. “Or she just accidentally said too much in front of her favorite pet.”

“Enough.”

A shiver ran through Yi, as if that single word had been capable of lowering the temperature in the chamber by a few degrees. Goumang was left with her mouth half-open, while a few other Sols retreated further into the safety of their seats. The slightest raise of Eigong’s voice sufficed to put them all back in their place—a quick, effective reminder why she continued to be their leader.

“If you would like to personally insult me or anyone else in this room, you are welcome to do so outside of the meeting,” she was telling her ex-student now, her sharp tone leaving no room for discussion. She was standing tall, with her head held high and her shoulders perfectly straight—an epitome of poise and grace. Yi couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. It was so easy to forget it was all an act…

She finally turned away from Goumang, gracing each Sol with the same steely gaze. “I understand the truth is hard to bear. But it does not change our course of action. Finding the cure for Tianhuo remains our priority, but as the pandemic spreads, my team and I can no longer carry this research on our own. Therefore, I will be sharing our findings with other divisions of the Institute, and I ask you, distinguished colleagues, to redirect your scientists, biologists and bioengineers to my Research Center. Any additional resources at our disposal will be invaluable.”

At first her request was met with nothing but silence, as the Council was still gathering the courage to speak. To Yi’s surprise, Kuafu was the first one to do it.

“So are we supposed to just… ignore the fact this entire situation is essentially your fault?” He was doing an admirable job at controlling his voice. It sounded almost confident, but more so just baffled. “Pardon my audacity, esteemed Sol, but this doesn't sound like something we can just pretend is not a big deal.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” said Eigong. “But I ask you to think about this reasonably: right now the time spent on reminiscing and pointing the blame is time wasted. We must focus on the task at hand.”

“And that's it?” Kuafu's eyes were wide in bewilderment. “No explanation, no apology?”

“And what exactly would an expression of remorse on my part change, Sol Kuafu?”

He blinked. “Excuse me? You started a global pandemic, hid the truth from us and you still can’t bring yourself to offer us as little as an apology?”

“Oh, but respected Sol Eigong is right, a Fangshi shouldn’t bother themselves with such trivialities,” mused Jiequan. A smirk had been playing in his lips throughout the entire meeting. “Besides, I think her spectacular discovery is nothing to apologize for. What did you call it, young Feng? The most efficient bioweapon of our era?” He clasped his hands, his fangs aligning into a wide grin. “I like it!”

Yi glanced at the Sol of Discipline with mild concern. He hadn’t been in the Council for long, and he could never tell whether Jiequan was being serious or not. Eigong decided not to comment, however, instead returning her attention to Kuafu.

“For the past ten years I’ve been doing nothing but searching for a way to cure Tianhuo. I believe this proves my determination to amend my mistake sufficiently.”

“I think that’s the bare minimum you should be doing at this point,” huffed Fuxi.

“I can confirm, Sol Eigong has been working really hard,” Lady Ethereal spoke up quietly. Yi looked at her: he’d almost forgotten she was even in the room. “And I agree: we cannot take back what has already happened. All we can do now is try to stop this pandemic.”

“It’s not really a choice if the alternative is everyone dying. Of course we have to do something.” Nuwa crossed her arms over her chest.

Yi cleared his throat, causing a few heads to turn towards him,

“We need to work together,” he said. “Sol Eigong's team is small and, as she already stated, they have insufficient resources. And besides, it was the Council who’d issued the Immortality Project in the first place, so it should be the entire Council who deals with the consequences.”

He heard a loud thud, as Nuwa slammed her fist against the table.

“Don’t you dare imply we had anything to do with this mess!” she hissed.

“But young Sol Yi is correct, Miss Feng,” mumbled Yanlao, stroking his whiskers in thought. “Even though it was our predecessors who made those decisions, we have to carry their legacy.”

“Whatever you say, old man,” murmured Jiequan. He turned to Eigong and gave her a nod that almost seemed genuinely respectful. “Distinguished Sol, you have my full support. You may use the Transmutation District’s resources as you please. I will watch your progress keenly.”

“I can delay our less urgent projects for now,” said Lady Ethereal, giving the older woman a slightly awkward smile. “My team is at your disposal.”

Kuafu looked from one side of the table to the other, his brow furrowed so much it almost covered his eyes.

“Wait, aren't we going to vote on this or something?” he asked.

“Solarian lives are not a subject to vote,” Eigong said sternly. “I think you will agree.”

“So you'll suffer no consequences, huh? Well played, Eigong.” Fuxi shook his head. “Alright then. The Feng Clan will continue to fund your research… But I demand a detailed audit on your monthly spendings from now on.”

“And as soon as the cure is found, we're cutting your funds,” added Nuwa.

“Very well,” said Eigong, unmoved by the younger woman’s piercing gaze. She turned to the other side of the table. “Esteemed Sols Ji and Yanlao?”

Ji only nodded, silent and passive as always. Yanlao continued to stare at the table, droplets of sweat seeping into the creases of his brow.

“The young man is right, we need to reap what our ancestors have sown…” he stuttered. “I-I have always trusted Lady Eigong’s judgement and I shall continue to do so.”

“I offer my support as well,” said Yi. Eigong met his eye and for a split second her gaze softened.

Goumang let out a frustrated huff.

“Alright. But I’ll let you know, leader, that this entire situation sickens me.”

“I agree for once,” uttered Kuafu.

Eigong gave a curt, respectful nod.

“Thank you, colleagues, for your understanding. Sol Kuafu, I hope that you will be able to put your feelings aside and cooperate. Sol Goumang, I would like to have a word with you after the meeting.” It wasn’t an order, or a threat—but she definitely made it sound like one. “And now, let us proceed with our usual schedule…”

Yi leaned back in his chair, suppressing a sigh of relief. As he had expected, things didn’t exactly go smoothly, but it was nothing Eigong couldn’t handle. He shot a quick glance at Kuafu: the ginger-haired Sol was looking at Eigong with narrow eyes and a distrustful expression. Perhaps Yi could talk to him about it later. As much as he understood his friend’s disappointment in their leader, they had to trust she had picked the best course of action.

Now, with the backing of the Council, their chances of finding the cure would potentially increase. Their situation was still dire, but at least the truth was out, and Eigong didn’t have to bear the responsibility anymore. Yi felt a faint glimmer of hope in his heart. Maybe things were finally going to be okay…

Four years later.

The coldness he was feeling in his bones wasn't at all related to the chilly air of the night. He sat on the windowsill, his robe billowing in the wind—a trace of bright yellow against the dark sky.

He stared into the distance, neon lights of New Kunlun blurring into meaningless smudges. Noise of the city barely reached him this high up… not that he could hear the clamor anyway.

All he heard was the echo of his sister’s crying.

His fingers continued to linger over his temple, frozen in the same spot he’d ended the call minutes ago. He felt like he’d lost the ability to command his own body, his muscles feeling limp, bitten by the cold.

His mind wasn't doing much better. He barely registered a knock on the door, dismissing the sound as a distant background noise. Only when a voice reached him, it pierced his consciousness deep enough to shake him from his paralysis.

“Yi,” said Eigong, an underlying hint of annoyance in her tone. “I've been trying to reach you for the past hour. Where have you–”

“My parents are gone,” he said, cutting her off. If he cared to notice, it might have concerned him how hollow his words sounded.

He heard Eigong stop in her tracks. A moment of silence passed, as she didn't dare—and he didn't bother—to move. When she eventually spoke up, her voice was much softer.

“My deepest condolences.”

He said nothing, eyes locked on the flurry of lights. Eigong sighed, taking a few steps forward.

“Was it due to a Tianhuo infe—”

“Oh, you bet it was a Tianhuo infection, what else?!” Yi jumped off the windowsill back into the darkened room, finally turning towards her. He expected his vision to clear, but the blur persisted, getting even worse as something wet and hot started welling in his eyes. Eigong stood mere meters away, now staring at him in bewilderment.

“I fully sympathize with your grief, Yi, but—”

“Don't you even dare say that!” he hissed. “You brought this upon them. If it weren't for your damn experiments, they would still be alive!”

“Child…”

“I am not your child!” His growl rolled through the room like thunder, bouncing off every surface and pouring out of the window, only to finally be drowned by the city noise. “My parents are dead because you murdered them, along with millions of solarians!” His throat began to hurt. He didn't care. “Every day you read death reports and you see numbers. Absurdly high numbers. Do you even realize these are real people? Do you ever stop to think how many families you've split or how many children you've orphaned? Of course you don't! All that matters to you is your blasted research!”

Though Eigong's expression remained perfectly still, a range of emotions was cascading through her eyes. Yi spotted pain in those two polished onyxes, and it only made his blood boil hotter. All the suffering she'd caused, and she dared to feel hurt by his words?

“How come the virus hasn't killed you yet?” he croaked. His temples were pulsing, his head felt heavy and the last thing he wanted right now was to look at this woman. “Is it some sort of fate's twisted joke? Everyone else is going to die but you?”

“Stop it. You're being unreasonable.”

Her calm, controlled voice was enough to make him snap.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” he roared, tarnishing his last functional vocal cords. “You too belong in a flower field! Do us all a favor and join all the people you killed!”

“Yi…”

“Get the fuck out! You shouldn't have fixed my heart if you knew I’d spend the rest of my life in a wasteland!”

The echo of his words lingered in the room for a moment before giving way to deadly silence. Tears were streaming down Yi’s face, his small body trembling with rage. The blurry image of the scientist in front of him sickened him. He wanted her gone. He wanted her dead…

Eigong continued to look at him, her jaw clenched and her lips pressed into a thin line. She hadn't moved an inch… One could say she'd been turned into stone, if it weren't for her eyes—glimmering like a night sky reflected in a pool of water.

Eventually, she took a breath, blinking away the stars. She turned around, heading towards the door.

“You are eligible for a bereavement leave,” she said without meeting his gaze. “Go home. Stay as long as you need. Once again, on behalf of the entire Research Institute, I offer my sincere condolences to you and your sister.”

And with that, the door shut behind her, leaving Yi alone.

He stood there, minutes drifting by, as his anger began to shift back into numbness. He felt his legs move, but couldn't be troubled to think where they were taking him. Saturated colors of the Empyrean District living zone crossed his vision. Familiar shapes of the Central Hall loomed over him. We walked and walked, until his body collapsed onto a low stool and his tongue felt a burning taste of alcohol. Wine slid down his throat, filling his chest with a sharp burst of warmth. He wasn't sure if the drink was good, but it sure as hell was potent.

He asked for another glass. Then another. The heat managed to stuff the void in his chest, the sour taste became all he needed to focus on. But, as he reached for the fifth glass, something grabbed him by the hand. Something heavy, soft and orange.

“I think you've had enough, buddy,” said Kuafu. His face was spinning ever so slightly in Yi’s eyes. It took him a moment to put the words together.

“Go away…”

“Getting sloshed it's gonna solve anything, you know?” Kuafu’s strong hands grabbed Yi by the shoulders, forcing him to look at him. The frown slowly faded from his brow. “I've heard the news. I am very, very sorry.”

“Who… told you?” asked Yi, staring at him blankly. Kuafu shook his head.

“Eigong did. We had been looking for you earlier and—”

“That bitch…” hissed Yi. The image of that accursed scientist invaded his thoughts again…

“What?” stuttered Kuafu, his eyebrows meeting his earline. “Wait, wh—”

“She killed them, Kuafu!” yelled Yi, paying no attention to who was listening. A half-empty glass of wine was sent flying as he slammed his fist against the table. “She killed everyone! My parents! She let the virus destroy our entire race!”

His friend just stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

“You’re… technically correct, but…” He sighed. “Yi, I know you're upset, but blaming Eigong isn't going to bring anyone back. You know that.”

“Oh really?” huffed Yi. The world was floating before his eyes like a stormy sea.

“Yeah. Way back when she announced she was the one responsible for the virus, I was pissed too. The fact we were working under the person who had caused this entire mess was a slap in the face for all of us.” Kuafu's features twitched in a grimace. “But there's a reason she's still the Sol of Knowledge, right? Whether we like it or not, if there's someone who can fix this, it's—”

“She should be dead.”

The words left Yi's mouth before he had a chance to even think about them. His voice sounded hollow, flat, as if he was stating an obvious truth.

Kuafu shook his head slowly.

“And do you really think one more death is going to solve anything? Because I believe we've lost enough. We don't need to add to what the virus has already taken from us.” He squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Besides, you don't really think that way, do you? I mean, she was your mentor. When the truth came out, you were the first one to forgive her.”

Yi stared at him in disbelief. Forgive her? Had he really done that?

“I guess I was just stupid,” he murmured.

“So you were okay with her hiding the truth from us, but as soon as the consequences affect you personally, you want her dead?” Kuafu sighed. “Yi, it was you who convinced me to trust her…”

“Yeah, yeah, fine!” Yi blurbed the words out. “I was blind, okay? Blind and stupid. But now I’ve been enlightened.”

“No, you’re just drunk as hell.” Kuafu shook his head. “You better think about this again when you’re feeling better. For now, go home. Give yourself some time to grieve. Please.” He took Yi under his massive arm. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your apartment so you can pack your things.”

Yi wanted to protest, but it turned out he had no strength to resist being pulled towards the living district. All he could do was stare at the ground, forcing his feet to stop tangling and preventing his head from falling onto his chest. His mind was still a blur, barely able to piece together cohesive thoughts. And yet, despite the haze, one stubborn realization was becoming abundantly clear.

It wasn’t just his parents who had died to him tonight.

Xia. A week later.

He’d almost forgotten what the scent of grass and the touch of wind felt like. When he closed his eyes, for a moment he could pretend that nothing had changed.

But as his vision was flooded with endless fields of flowers, it dawned on him that this was the reality he was forced to live in.

He sighed, bowing his head before two gravestones looming over him—his parents, whom he refused to speak to for months, now perpetually silent. He wanted to regret his behavior, he wanted to blame himself for not using the time he had with them to its full potential, he wanted to feel remorse for leaving them and vowing to never return… But all he really felt was emptiness.

Yes, he’d left them. And for what? A dream of making Penglai a better place? Of improving people’s lives? All he really did was abandon his family just to work with the very woman who’d brought this catastrophe upon them.

He’d known the truth for years and yet he chose to stay with her. He couldn’t think of her any differently than as his mentor, despite the amount of solarian blood she had on her hands. Did it really have to take his parents’ death to finally wake him up?

“I should’ve never left,” he murmured.

A warm, delicate hand rested itself on his shoulder.

“You couldn’t have done anything,” Heng said softly. “No one could. Please, don’t blame yourself, dear brother.”

Yi let her words wash over him. She was right, there was nothing he could do to prevent his parents’ passing. As long as there was no cure for Tianhuo, he was entirely helpless.

And finding the cure, whether he liked it or not, remained in Eigong’s hands.

He looked at his sister and her calm, bright face managed to soothe him a little. He covered her hand with his own, allowing himself to feel her closeness for a moment.

“I know who’s responsible for this mess, Heng,” he said. “It’s my very own mentor.”

“Lady Eigong?” The girl’s brows rose slightly. “She made the virus?”

“Accidentally,” Yi admitted. “One of her experiments went wrong, and…” He shook his head. “And now here we are.”

To his surprise, Heng let out a quiet chuckle.

“I remember you said something about failed experiments being a learning experience,” she said. “Right before your Mystic Nymph exploded.”

“There’s a difference between blowing up a butterfly and starting a global pandemic!”

“Is there?” Heng gave him a small smile. “Neither of you wanted to do it.”

He wanted to deny it, to tell her she was wrong. But he couldn’t.

Because deep down, he agreed with her.

The explosion, the virus… They were both consequences of one unfortunate mistake. It just so happened that in Eigong’s case they were much more dire.

But the situation was analogous. If Yi had miscalculated the power levels a little more than he did, he could have blown up his entire village. If Eigong had been just a little more careful, or had slept a bit longer the previous night, then maybe all of this could have been avoided…

Pointless as they were, these speculations only reminded him of something he’d already known. Eigong wasn’t a murderer, and one slip of her hand didn’t make her one. She wasn’t at fault for his parents’ death, and yet he’d blamed her because he needed to blame someone.

He sighed, absently stroking his sister’s hand.

“What do I do now, Heng?”

“You know I can’t tell you that… But I think you already know.” She smiled. She was always smiling. His little ray of sunshine… “As much as I’d love you to stay, you're still on your mission. And I think there’s someone who needs you more than I do.”

Yi turned his head away.

“I don’t even know if I can help her. I don’t know if she’ll want me to help. I’ve told her some awful things when I was angry…”

“I’m sure she’ll understand. Friends bicker all the time, don’t they?”

He blinked. “Friends?”

“Of course!” She grinned. “You’re quite fond of her, aren’t you?”

Yi took a moment to consider her words. He’d always admired Eigong: she was the pillar of modern science, a brilliant mind and an excellent teacher. He was thankful for the privilege to call her his mentor. But a friend? He’d never thought of her in such categories…

“I… think so,” he admitted. “But I don’t know if she sees it that way…”

Of course she does, he immediately corrected himself. His thoughts drifted back to that one visit to her lab: her tired, haunted expression, her eyes, begging for understanding, and her faintest smile when he had forgiven her. The fact she'd chosen him to tell the truth to, that she’d trusted him enough to lay her feelings bare in front of him… It was so obvious she considered him more than just a student.

Had he always been too blind to notice? Or had he just forgotten because of his outburst?

He closed his eyes, allowing his sister's warmth to soothe his mind.

“I guess there's only one way to find out, isn't there?”

New Kunlun. Three days later.

As Yi stepped into the lab, his heart dropped at the sight of a lone figure illuminated by a pale glow coming from a lamp above her. Eigong was slouched over her desk, a dozen or so flasks full of clear and colorful liquids displayed in front of her, along with empty vials, measuring cups and other gear Yi wasn't particularly familiar with. Shadows crept around her, as if trying to reach out to her through the protective ring of light.

Her eyes were half closed, visibly struggling to focus, but her hands seemed to move on an autopilot. She opened one flask and poured its blue-ish containments into a vial. Her finger tapped on the glass rhythmically, carefully counting every drop. She put the flask down and exchanged it for another one. Same procedure. One, two, three drops. The flask returned to the desk. She stirred the containments, then took a pen and noted something on her tablet. Another flask. One, two, three, four, five drops—the last one half the size. The mixture changed color to yellow. She put the flask down. Made a note. Stirred. Again. Then again. Then a—

“Mentor?”

The flask slid out of her hand, shattering against the counter. Pale blue liquid spilled over the desk and onto the floor, taking some of the glass shards with it. Eigong inhaled sharply, swiftly sliding off the chair to avoid contact with the substance. She looked at the mess for a second, uttering something that was almost certainly a curse, then took a piece of cloth from a nearby shelf and proceeded to wipe the damage.

Yi felt a spike of panic.

“It it—”

“It's not toxic,” she cut him off. “Just very expensive, and I believe this was the last batch.” She sighed, grabbing a pair of tweezers and carefully removed the glass pieces before continuing the cleanup. Yi cringed.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to startle you…”

“No harm done,” she said flatly. “Accidents happen.”

She finished wiping the counter and the floor, then gathered the glass shards through the cloth and disposed of them into the waste container. Then she returned to her desk, still refusing to meet her student's gaze. When she spoke up again, her voice was quiet. Hollow.

“I thought you'd be staying in Xia for longer.”

“I considered it, but… I realized I'd be more useful here,” he admitted. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you.”

Eigong closed her eyes. Pale light raining down on her made the lines on her face appear even deeper. She looked like a walking corpse…

“Then talk.”

Yi took a breath, making a few steps forward.

“Mentor, I… I want to apologize. I understand I have overstepped my boundaries—”

“Correct. You have.” She finally looked at him, her gaze piercing him right through the heart and throwing his stabilizer off beat. She seemed like she wanted to be mad at him, but couldn't find the strength to do so. Instead, all he found in her eyes was pain, coupled with deeply rooted exhaustion. “Tianhuo taking my life won't change anything, Yi. All it's going to do is rid the Council and the Institute of its leader, delaying the research on the cure even further. If we still wish for any chance to end this calamity, I cannot afford to die.” She bowed her head, letting out a mournful sigh. “Is the fact I'm still alive fate’s cruel joke? I'd say yes. Every time I look at these flowers, I want nothing more than to be turned into one of them. But dying would be an easy way out, and I owe it to all Solarians to keep living… Even though we both wish it were otherwise.”

“No.” Yi shook his head fiercely. “Please, don't say that. I didn't mean it. I just… I wasn't thinking clearly. I'm so sorry…”

“I want to tell you I'm disappointed, but I also realize I'm in no position to blame you,” she said. “Your anger was completely justified.”

“But it shouldn't have been directed at you,” he countered. He felt like an insolent child, incapable of controlling his emotions and lashing out at the first person who happened to be near him. Even though this person was already carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and didn't need him to rub salt in her wounds.

Eigong looked up at him. He'd never seen her so… raw. The facade of the calm, confident leader was completely shattered, leaving nothing but a tired, broken woman. For the first time, Yi realized how dangerously close to giving up she had come. Fifteen years of trial and error, dead ends and ever-present guilt had taken a grave toll on her body and psyche. She wasn't exaggerating when she said death would be a welcome release. 

And Yi, in his blind rage, had wanted her dead…

The realization sickened him. How could he’ve even thought something like that? How could he’ve been so stupid? This was the woman who'd saved his life, who'd believed in him ever since the day they’d met. She’d taught him everything he knew about science and the art of combat. She'd been infinitely patient with him, stern but never harsh, demanding but never cruel. She'd given him so much and all she ever asked in return was his loyalty. And this was how he was repaying her…

“Mentor…” he spoke up softly. “Their death was not your fault.”

Eigong shook her head.

“Denying the facts doesn't change—”

“You didn't kill them. The virus did.” He sighed. “They're gone, and we can't do anything about it. But what we can do is make sure no one else shares their fate in the future.”

Eigong simply continued to stare at him blankly. A symbol of wisdom and resilience, now looking so hopeless. Defeated.

He couldn't bear to see her in this state.

Driven by some impulse he couldn't explain, he reached out and placed his hand on top of her gloved one. The gesture made her pupils widen briefly, but she didn’t back away. They were hardly ever this intimate with each other: Eigong would sometimes touch his shoulder in an act of praise or reassurance, but other than that they kept their distance. However, right now Yi felt like she needed a physical reminder that she wasn't alone. 

Like she needed a… friend.

“We will find this cure,” he said, meaning every word. “You’ve been working on it for so long, we must be close.”

Eigong watched their hands resting atop the desk. Her expression told Yi she wanted to believe him, but couldn't quite bring herself to.

“I hope you're right…” she said eventually.

They remained like this for a while, allowing silence to wash over them. Yi observed as his mentor struggled more and more to keep her eyes open and stop her head from dropping onto her chest. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“That’s enough for tonight. You should go home.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Breaking any more flasks and wasting resources surely won't benefit anyone.”

“It's not just about the flasks. You need to take care of yourself too. How can you continue the research if your body fails you?”

Her eyes told him she'd beg to differ, but decided not to argue with him any further. Instead, she nodded reluctantly. She broke her hand free from Yi’s grasp, took her tablet and switched off the lights. Yi followed her into the darkened hallway.

Wordlessly, they made their way through the depths of the Institute and then the Central Hall before reaching the living district. Though Yi’s apartment was in a completely opposite direction, he accompanied Eigong to her very doorstep and waited patiently, as she looked for her keycard.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

“I am,” she said, forcing a tired smile onto her lips. “Try to rest as well, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

He bowed his head. “I’ll do my best. Have a good night, mentor.”

He turned around, heading towards his own quarters, but he didn't go far before her voice caught him.

“Yi?”

He looked at her over his shoulder. Eigong was still standing in front of the door, right where he’d left her. As their eyes met, her expression softened.

“I'm glad to have you back,” she said, and he had a feeling she didn't mean just his return to New Kunlun. He turned to face her properly, giving her a small smile.

“Of course. Where else could I possibly be?”

Two years later.

When Yi stepped into the Research Institute, he felt as if he’d just entered a hive. Rivers of students, interns and professors rushed through the hallways, ready to get swallowed by the endless maze of brightly lit corridors. Higher floors housed classrooms and general-purpose laboratories, where freshmen could freely experiment under their mentors’ watchful gazes. Further down, wide, panoramic windows revealed more specialized labs—homes to some of the most top-of-the-line equipment in any university on Penglai. Bold, experimental inventions were patented and adapted here, free for any scholar of the Tiandao Council to use and innovate upon.

Rivaling the ancient Kunlun worship sites, these couple floors were nothing but a massive temple devoted to the only god their residents trusted in: science.

And today Yi’s goal was to find their High Priestess.

He joined the crowd at the entrance, but as he made his way further and further down into the labyrinth, the sea of people began to thin out. Only a handful of personnel had access to the wing dedicated to the Tianhuo research—Eigong wouldn’t allow any low-ranking workers or inquisitive students to wander around her domain. Fortunately for Yi, his position as a Sol granted him the necessary clearance.

Even though he visited this floor often, he still felt like a stranger in her territory. 

It didn’t take him long to locate her lab, but when the door slid open in front of him, not one pair of eyes turned his way.

He could see the entire Tianhuo research team, working like well-oiled cogs in a sophisticated mechanism. Some were studying samples under microscopes, but most of them directed their attention to their screens. A focused silence was interrupted only by occasional clings of glassware, soft hums of centrifuges, or hushed exchanges between the scientists. A potent smell of disinfectant filled the room, doing its best to drown out any other chemical odors.

No one cared to break their concentration enough to see a splash of yellow among the white robes. Especially not Eigong: Yi found her at the rear of the room, looking at a monitor over another scientist’s shoulder.

“We have observed a substantial replication decrease over here,” said the man. His finger traced a long column of numbers displayed on the screen. “The results were identical each time we performed the experiment. My hypothesis is that if we increase the dosage—”

“Sol Eigong!” Yi called out. That finally caught the attention of not only his mentor, but the entire team. Surprised gazes quickly turned into respectful bows, while Eigong's expression morphed into a frown.

“Sol Yi,” she greeted him formally. “Can I be of assistance?”

He lowered his head before her out of habit.

“Apologies for the interruption, but I need a word with you.”

“Right now?” Her brows rose slightly. Yi gave an eager nod.

“Please, it's important.”

Eigong looked at him for a moment, as if trying to read from his face alone what the matter was, before turning to her colleagues.

“You may proceed. I will join you shortly.”

With that said, she gestured at Yi to follow her into her office in the neighboring room. She switched the lights on, revealing a small, yet neatly organized space, filled with documents, scrolls and spare chemical gear. Two photos hung over the desk: Yi’s own face was staring at him from one of them.

The door shut behind them, separating them from the ambience of the lab. Eigong made her way to the other side of the desk and sat down, still towering over her disciple.

“I'm all ears,” she said, dropping the official protocol. “What happened?”

Yi took a breath. He had one shot at this…

“Well, nothing happened, I just had this thought…”

“You came all the way down here to offer me a thought?”

He nodded. “There’s one thing you haven't tried in your research yet.”

The narrowing of her eyes was so subtle that anyone who hadn’t spent over a decade with her wouldn’t have noticed it. But Yi did.

“Elaborate.”

“You said Tianhuo was synthesized by merging solarian cells with those of Fusang, right?”

“Correct. The synthesis was rejected entirely.”

“But… my cells have also merged with Fusang.” He placed one hand over his stabilizer. “Somehow, this is keeping me alive. It heals my wounds. It does exactly what you wanted your experiments to do!”

Eigong was giving him a long, thoughtful look.

“Correct,” she repeated after a beat. “I must admit that your symbiosis with Fusang is rather unique.”

“Then this is where we should look for a solution!” He took a few steps forward and climbed onto a chair; he had to stand on top of it to reach the woman's eye level. “Although I won't believe for a second you haven't considered it at some point in the past.”

“Of course I have,” she said without hesitation. “I’ve debated on it extensively, but eventually I’ve deemed the risk too high. What you are suggesting would require dissecting your heart, which is an unknown, volatile construct. Any accidental damage may be catastrophic. Should something go wrong, it would cost science the only living example of a successful solarian-Fusang cell symbiosis, not to mention Penglai would lose one of its most valuable engineers.”

Yi stared at her blankly while his brain attempted to process her words. She was… refusing to perform an experiment because of a mere possibility of a failure? She, the most daring, controversial scientist of the generation?

“But…” he began hesitantly, “you've told me time and time again that science demands taking risks. If you've already tried everything else, this is the only way forward, and I think there's a real chance this data will help you figure out the cure—”

“I don't think you've heard me,” she cut him off, her voice suddenly sharp. “I could kill you, Yi.”

Her gaze was so intense he could almost feel it drilling right through him, but he stubbornly refused to look away.

“You won't.” To him, it was a fact.

A faintest twitch of her eyelid.

“And where's that certainty coming from? As we both know, I, too, can make mistakes.”

“But you've done it once already, haven't you? You can do it again.”

“That was a very different circumstance. You were on the verge of death already, I was forced to improvise—”

“Eigong.” The name sounded wrong, almost blasphemous coming from his mouth. Even though they were now equal as Sols, and even when he didn’t need to follow the protocol, he couldn’t think of her as any other than his ‘mentor’. And he always addressed her as such. 

But now his mentor was being inexplicably unreasonable. And he needed her to listen.

He went on before she could comment on that plain display of disrespect. 

“You know this isn't about me or you. It is saving solarians that is our priority. Even if it kills me, maybe it’s going to be worth it in the end.”

“Maybe,” she echoed coldly. “And if not? How does losing a remarkable scientist such as you benefit us?”

“I know it’s risky, but—”

“I think I've had enough of your thoughts, Sol Yi.” There was finality in her tone. “Now, forgive me, but I have an extensive sample analysis to perform and a team to watch over. I must get back to work.”

Yi clenched his teeth so hard it hurt. The moment Eigong tried to get up from her seat, he shot his arm forward, grabbing her by the wrist.

“No, we're not done,” he snapped. “I can't believe you're willingly overlooking the most obvious course of action.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, as her mask of composure began to crack.

“You're crossing a line…” she warned.

“And you're just being a coward!” he spat. “There's literally no logical reason not to try this! Are you scared or what?”

“Yes, I am!”

Silence.

Sol Eigong never raised her voice. No matter how many times Yi angered her in the past, no matter if he argued with her or refused to follow her orders, she never shouted at him. Hearing it now was like a sobering slap to the face. He blinked, while his fingers slowly loosened their grip on her hand.

“Of what?”

She simply looked at him, her lips pressed into a thin line and her breathing heavy. The answer hung in the air, never to be spoken out loud. A few long heartbeats passed before Yi understood this conversation was over. He bowed his head in surrender.

“My apologies, mentor. I’m in no position to tell you what to do. This is your research, and I shouldn't interfere.” He jumped off the chair, turning away from her. He could still feel the weight of her gaze. “I’m sorry for disturbing your work. Good luck with today's session.”

He made his way towards the door, but before he had a chance to leave, she stopped him.

“Yi.” Her voice was softer than he’d expected.

He glanced at her over his shoulder: she was leaning against her desk, supporting her forehead on her elbows, suddenly looking very tired.

“I… need to think about this.”

He gave her a sour smile.

“Alright. But I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”

“I don't,” she admitted quietly. She seemed… defeated. “I’ve never had.”

*

“This is your last chance to turn back,” said Eigong, readying her syringe. “I will not hold it against you.”

“No.” Yi looked up at her, though he failed to meet her eyes. Lying flat on a surgery table, he could hardly see anything but the pipes suspended under the ceiling and the blinding lights shining down on him. “It's alright.”

“Very well.” She brought the needle to his neck. “Be still.”

The kiss of metal on his skin was so quick he’d barely noticed. He managed to look at the woman's face: her mouth was covered with a surgical mask, her eyes focused on the tools she was preparing.

“So… what exactly are you going to do to me?” he asked conversationally.

“I don't think it should concern you since you'll be blissfully unaware of the entire procedure,” said Eigong. “But if you're curious, I'm going to remove your stabilizer and run a few tests to determine whether your heart can function without it. If successful, I'm going to cut into the organ, take a number of samples and—”

“You know what, forget I asked.”

The lines around her eyes aligned into a dry smile, though it quickly faded into her usual stern expression.

“I trust my skills and years of experience, but I need to once again inform you that, given the complexity of the task, there is no guarantee of success.” She sighed, then looked down at him, finally meeting his eyes properly. “Even though I am going to take all necessary precautions, I can't promise you're going to wake up, Yi.”

He probably should have been concerned. Scared even. But it didn't even cross his mind. Maybe it was due to the sedative that was just beginning to work, slowly numbing his senses, or maybe he couldn't bring himself to worry as long as it was her who was cutting him apart.

He wasn't sure if it was a dream or a blurry memory, but he could recall her skilled hands operating on him years ago. Even though his mind was hazy, his heart stumbling and his body in pieces, somehow she made him feel… safe.

His eyes fell shut, and his breathing slowed down, as if something was pulling him into a deep slumber. Still, he found himself smiling.

“Everything's going to be okay,” he said, his voice distorted by the drug. He felt the table shift slightly as Eigong sat on the verge beside him.

“Baseless assumption,” she mused. He let out a quiet chuckle.

“Sorry. I can't explain. I just… know it.”

His mind and body finally gave up. As his consciousness faded, he imagined Eigong's hand resting on top of his head, stroking his fur tenderly. And then he dreamt of her voice—soft and soothing, like a gentle breeze in the wake of spring.

“Sleep peacefully…” she whispered, “...my child.”

*

A sound of beeping brought him back from the void. It had been there for hours, invading his consciousness. Persistent. Annoying.

He wanted it to stop. He wanted to fall back asleep…

His head felt light, his thoughts difficult to grasp. He refused to open his eyes, instead choosing to remain in the darkness' blissful embrace.

He couldn't feel his body, and he started questioning whether he even had one. He attempted to move his limbs, but received no response from his nervous system.

A spike of fear pierced him, suddenly awakening him from the haze. His eyes snapped open. Vague shapes appeared before him, drowned in barely distinguishable shades of black. Long lines hang above him, like tangles of Primordial Roots. He could have sworn he saw them writhe, reaching out to him, wanting to suck him into their web, to reunite with a part of them that was inside him… He tried to move away, to hide, but his libs could have as well been made out of led.

His heart stumbled and then the pain finally hit. It flooded his chest like a volley of needles, penetrating the organ, pushing onto his chest and taking his breath away. Panic arose in his mind. Every inhale made the sensation worse and he had a choice to either suffer or suffocate. He clutched his heart with his trembling hand: he could feel the vibrations of his stabilizer, as the device tried and failed to keep up with his hectic pulse.

The beeping got louder. Quicker. Whatever it was, he really, really wanted it to shut up…

He lost control over his breathing, his body making its own attempt at keeping him alive. Air flowed through his lungs rapidly, too fast and too little. Black tentacles continued to loom over him. Impatient. Hungry…

White light flooded his vision, and he reflexively squeezed his eyelids shut. There was a rustle of cloth, a sound of quick footsteps and—

A warm hand resting on his shoulder.

“Easy,” whispered a familiar voice. It sounded more raspy than usual, as if it hadn't been used for a long time. “Everything is going to be alright. Breathe.”

He didn’t know how. His body wasn’t his to control anymore.

Blessedly, the voice noticed his struggle.

“Slowly. The same way we did during our training sessions. Inhale, exhale.”

Heeding this simple guidance, he forced his lungs to stretch and let some air out. The pain was almost blinding, but even in his barely conscious state he knew following the voice’s instructions was his only way of surviving.

He felt his hand being pulled away from his stabilizer, and then four boney fingers began to adjust the device. He gathered the strength to open his eyes. His mentor was leaning over him, her attention locked on his jade ring and the tablet it was connected to. Her jaw was clenched, her gaze attentive—a skilled surgeon in her element.

And yet, something was off. Her root-hair had been released from its usual bun and was now cascading down her shoulders, and the dark circles under her eyes appeared deeper than ever. As she moved, light caught something glimmering on her cheeks. Almost like… drops of water.

The vibrations abruptly quickened in his chest: it was as if every beat of his heart demanded conscious effort from him, and his small form simply couldn’t handle it. 

The hyper-awareness of his body was making him sick. The nauseating feeling of blood hitting his temples, the burning pain in his chest, and that awful beeping noise… Why couldn’t it all go away?

A weak cry escaped his throat, and he felt Eigong’s hand giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“Keep breathing,” she said in a soft, yet urgent tone. “I just need to find the right frequency…”

“Make it stop…” he begged. He could hardly recognize his own voice. “Please…”

The woman looked at him and only now did he notice the redness of her eyes. She moved her hand from his shoulder up onto his head, gently stroking his forehead with her thumb.

“It’s going to be alright, Yi. Just a moment longer…”

Her fingers danced around the stabilizer, making further micro-adjustments until Yi finally felt his heartbeat gradually slowing down. He took a sharp inhale, as the system at last began to work properly, removing some of the weight from his heart and aiding it instead of fighting against it. Relief washed over him, drowning his anxiety. The pulsing in his head quieted down, along with the beeping of the monitors.

“Thank you…” he whispered. Eigong’s only response was a small, exhausted smile. She unplugged the tablet from the jade ring and put it away, before taking a closer look at Yi’s condition.

“How are you feeling? Does it still hurt?”

“No, it’s…” He took a deep breath just to make sure. He felt a spike of pain, but it was nothing compared to the torture he’d just been through. “It’s much better. Thank you.”

Eigong nodded, yet her gaze kept snapping back to the monitors, as if to confirm he wasn’t lying.

“Did you get everything you need?” he asked.

She blinked. For some reason it took her a few moments to answer.

“I…” She trailed off and cleared her throat. “I did. Blood and tissue samples, scans, DNA sequences… I already sent them to the lab, my team has been looking at them for the past two days.”

Yi’s brow furrowed. “It’s been two days?”

“Three, actually. Seventy three hours to be precise.” She sighed, allowing her eyes to close. “I’ve told you it was going to be difficult…”

He stared at her blankly, weakness returning to him all of a sudden.

“Something… went wrong, didn't it?” he asked.

“Indeed,” Eigong confirmed. She rubbed her eyes with one hand, and she seemed surprised to find her fingers wet. “But not wrong enough to be unfixable. With your regenerative abilities restored and your stabilizer back online, you should return to full health in a couple days.”

He continued to search her face for any more clues, but she refused to provide him with any. There was obviously so much she wasn't telling him: no matter how hard she tried to hide it, it was clear to him he had come dangerously close to dying.

He hoped her efforts would pay off, if the samples she took actually ended up helping with the cure’s development… But at the same time, it was hard to look at her like this: eyes closed, shoulders slouched, barely holding herself upright. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her this exhausted—neither after the most intense training sessions, nor late nights spent in her lab. Something about this sight, so unusual and out of place, made his chest tighten. 

“You should rest,” he told her as softly as his hoarse voice could muster. She gave him a headshake in return.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not. You look like you're about to pass out.”

“And you're still unstable. I need to make sure—”

“Mentor.”

She looked at him and the sight of her eyes shook him to the core. Red, swollen and teary, filled with a bizarre mixture of anxiety, despair and fatigue—an image no one in the Council had ever seen, nor was ever allowed to. It was but a small window into whatever hell had broken loose in her head, but enough to make Yi’s heart ache anew. To think she brought herself to this state because of him…

She could have just let go, he thought. But she didn’t. Not when he was just a strange child, and most definitely not now. Even if it took all of her strength, she would continue to perform those miracles. For him.

He carefully took her hand from where it was resting on the table and brought it to his stabilizer, letting her feel its subtle vibrations that accompanied his heartbeat.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You have fixed whatever there was to fix, and I can handle myself from here. You go to bed.”

Normally, she would have probably tossed him a quip about giving her orders. But in her current state all she could do was nod. 

“I'll send a nurse to check on you in a bit,” she said. “Try to sleep as well, the surgery has strained your body profoundly.”

“I didn't plan on doing anything else.” He gave her a small smile. “And… Thank you. For keeping me alive.”

She let out a huff, averting her gaze.

“No need. As I've previously stated, your life is quite valuable to solariankind and to science as a whole. If something happened to you…” She hesitated for a moment. “It would be a great loss. So it is in our best interest that you keep living.” 

A reasonable argument. After all he was both a Sol, and a unique specimen. And yet…

He might have imagined it, but she sounded like she hadn’t saved him purely out of ‘interest’.

“I hope this whole ordeal will be worth it in the end.” Eigong sighed, her fingers tracing the edge of the jade ring absently.

Yi found himself nodding. The steady beeping of the monitor, the faint vibrations of his stabilizer, the oddly comforting weight of Eigong's hand on his chest… It was all slowly lulling him to sleep.

“It will,” he whispered, letting his consciousness drift away.

For her sake, it better is.

Six years later.

Once again, it was long past midnight when Yi was making his way down the Institute’s deserted halls. All traces of sleepiness had been gone from his body since the moment Eigong called him half an hour ago. There was a barely concealed sense of urgency in her voice, one that made his heartbeat quicken and his mind run wild with theories. She hadn’t told him what the matter was, but one thing was certain: something had happened.

It reminded him of an identical scenario, back when she’d revealed the truth about the Tianhuo virus to him. That night completely shifted his worldview and his perception of her—and he had a sinking feeling tonight wasn’t going to be any different.

His feet knew the way to her lab better than his eyes did. As he stepped inside, he was welcomed by the exact same sight as ten years before.

A flower in a cylindrical container, casting a faint glow into the darkness of the room. And Eigong, leaning against the glass, waiting for him.

Yi took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm his nerves.

“Mentor,” he said with a hasty bow.

Instead of a greeting, Eigong grabbed her tablet from a desk and handed it to him.

“Read,” she commanded.

He looked at the screen, heart pounding in his chest. It was the latest report from the Tianhuo cure tests. Parts of it were highlighted, coupled with annotations scribbled in Eigong’s neat handwriting. He glazed over the key points: test sample, the experiment, used methods… he had already memorized the preamble. But the further he read, the longer he had to linger on every word and number. This time something was much, much different…

“Ninety seven percent success rate, no secondary mutations…” He looked up, only to find Eigong’s onyx eyes locked on him.

“This is it.” Her voice was faint, as if she couldn’t find the courage to believe her own words.

Yi nodded slowly. He turned his gaze back to the report and read the final paragraph again. Then again. And as he did, he couldn’t help a wide grin spreading across his lips.

“Yes, this is it.” He met Eigong’s eyes and noticed she was smiling too: a sight so rare and precious it only added to his excitement. “You’ve done it, mentor. You’ve defeated Tianhuo!”

Now.

“I’m dying to know what was so important that you had to summon us outside of our monthly schedule, Eigong,” said Nuwa the moment Sol of Knowledge entered the Council Chamber. To Yi’s surprise, most of the members were already there—save from Ji, whose understanding of time and punctuality was rather… loose, and Fuxi, whose health had been on a steady decline for a while. Yi quickly climbed up onto his chair beside Lady Ethereal, but his mentor remained standing.

“Patience, young miss Feng,” chimed Yanlao. “I’m positive that esteemed Sol Eigong is about to enlighten us about the purpose of this meeting.”

“Indeed,” Eigong confirmed. “My apologies for calling you here at such short notice. However, the news I'm about to deliver are of utmost importance.”

“Then how cruel of you to keep us waiting.” Jiequan leaned forward slightly, his signature smug smile playing on his lips. “I was forced to reschedule my transmutation session because of your call, so I hope you make it worth it.”

Eigong shot him a brief, unamused glance. She folded her hands behind her back and took a deep breath.

“My fellow distinguished Sols,” she began. Her voice echoed through the chamber, demanding attention. “Twenty two years ago we faced a catastrophe unlike anything we have seen in the current era. Ever since then, we’ve been working tirelessly to restore order and defeat our invisible enemy.” She paused, looking every member of the Council in the eye. “And today, I am thrilled to inform you that our struggles have finally come to an end.”

There was an exhale. A whisper. A few uncertain looks being shared.

And then something almost as unbelievable as the news itself: a genuine smile brightening up Eigong’s features.

“Distingushed Sols,” she said. “We have at last found the cure for Tianhuo.”