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    Summary

    Xue Yang dreams of drowning. He is falling into the deep, the pressure of the water crushing his bones to splinters, rending his guts to mince. It feels like relief.
    The darkness pulls him close. There is blood leaking down his face, even though he no longer has a face.
    The Old Ones never learned to be gentle. They never had to. Their thoughts touch his and burn. Their tendrils reaching toward his body are a thousand razors cutting into his flesh. They pull him in, in to them.
    Then he wakes and the blood on his face is real. His hands are bound behind his back, he can't wipe the blood away.
    "We could just kill him," says the cultivator in black.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    30,306
    Chapters:
    3/3
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
    238
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