Chapter Text
It was cold inside the DarkSpace.
Wei Wuxian unconsciously leaned closer to Lan Wangji, shivering slightly. Lan Wangji wrapped an arm around him, his warmth a comforting presence.
They floated there, just inside the portal, watching the ships land one by one.
Cultivators were piling out of the ships, their swords already drawn. They moved in groups, as if afraid to venture out on their own.
“What do you think?” Wei Wuxian murmured. “Are they here for us, or for the weapon?”
Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, but Wei Wuxian was already continuing on. “I suppose they can do both at once.”
His attention was drawn to an Azural paddling toward them, its eyes focused on Lan Wangji. It was the size of a small horse, and the electric blue of its skin shone in the dimness of the DarkSpace.
Wei Wuxian whistled sharply, catching the Azural’s gaze. “Not for you,” he said, and the Azural swam away.
When he turned back around, Lan Wangji was watching him with a fond smile.
“Lan Zhan, you have to warn me before smiling like that!”
His words only made the small smile grow.
Wei Wuxian buried his head in the folds of Lan Wangji’s robes, overwhelmed by the simple facial expression. For a moment, he could pretend that the real world didn’t exist, and that all there was was the two of them, floating in space.
After a moment, he raised his head, looking back out on the cultivators. They seemed to be arguing, with large angry gestures.
He was betting on the fact that they hadn’t brought antimatter. And if they had, they certainly hadn’t brought enough to destroy all the portals that covered the Burial Mounds.
So long as they stayed within the DarkSpace, they were safe.
But then one of the cultivators dragged forward a figure in white.
Through the barrier, they could hear the distorted speech of the man. “This Lan disciple assisted in the escape of the Yiling Patriarch and Hanguang-jun.”
At the sight of Lan Sizhui, both of them surged forward.
Wei Wuxian caught Lan Wangji’s arm at the last second, pulling him back. “Lan Zhan, if we go out there, we’ll be unprotected.”
Lan Wangji gave him a helpless look, mirroring his own emotions. “Sizhui,” he said.
“Come out,” the man yelled. “Patriarch, we know you’re here.”
He raised his sword to Sizhui’s neck, making the decision for them.
They burst out of the DarkSpace, Lan Wangji with his sword drawn and Wei Wuxian with his flute at the ready.
The cultivators shouted in surprise, but their attention was focused on Lan Sizhui.
“Sizhui,” Lan Wangji called.
“I’m okay,” Lan Sizhui reassured him.
“At last, the Patriarch shows himself!” the man announced.
“Release him,” Wei Wuxian said, voice cold and deadly.
“Not until you answer for your sins,” the man said. He turned to face them, keeping Lan Sizhui in front of him as a shield.
“I thought I was supposed to be killed on sight.”
“We’re not animals,” another cultivator spoke up. “We just want justice.”
“Fine,” Wei Wuxian snapped. “Tell me my crimes, then.”
Jin Guangyao stepped forward, as if he’d been waiting. “You stand accused,” he said with grandiosity, “of the deaths of Nightless City, and the death of Jin Zixuan.”
“You already punished me for that,” he said bitterly. “Remember, you tried to glitch me?”
“In the time since your execution, you are accused of opening portals in the major cities, and are responsible for the deaths of those who died in the subsequent attacks.”
“I did no such thing,” he said.
“You opened portals on Gusu, Qinghe, Yumeng, and Lanling!” yelled a Nie cultivator. “You killed my brother!”
“No,” Wei Wuxian said, ”I closed portals in all of those places. I was saving you.”
Jin Guangyao looked at him with something like pity. “Do you really expect us to believe you? You’re the only person who can open glitched portals.”
“They were opened by an EMP going off,” Wei Wuxian said. He glanced around for Nie Huaisang, who could confirm this, but didn’t see him anywhere. “Check the power grid from before the portals opened. I guarantee there was an energy surge.”
He could tell no one was listening.
“There’s something bigger than me at play here,” he said. “Someone else is behind all this.”
As he spoke, his arms burned with energy. He was at full power, and if he didn’t start using it, it would burn through the rest of his veins and leave him incapacitated.
But if he used it now, they’d surely attack.
“You’re guilty,” Jin Guangyao said. “I’m sorry, but we can’t deny the truth. You’re a killer and a traitor to all cultivation.”
The cultivators were starting to circle, like vultures above a kill. More and more swords were pointed in their direction.
Lan Wangji opened up his shield, but there wasn’t much he could do as a single person. Shield formations worked best with groups of six or nine, and the solitary shield looked rather pathetic.
“You even seduced Hanguang-jun,” a cultivator said. “Wei Wuxian, you’re really reprehensible.”
They were surrounded on all sides and hopelessly outnumbered. The cultivators would wear them down in minutes, and then they’d be at their mercy—a mercy sure to be cold and lethal.
But something wasn’t right.
A small group of cultivators were unloading something from one of the ships, something that Wei Wuxian belatedly recognized as an EMP.
“No,” he said. “You wouldn’t.”
Jin Guangyao grinned at him, and held up a remote control.
“No!” Wei Wuxian cried, but it was too late.
The ground trembled with the force of the EMP.