Chapter Text
The first day of the Abyss Sequence (for so it would come to be known) began with the death of a young man on the fifth moon of Gusu. His name never made it to the death registrars—he was estranged from his family, and no one noticed his absence.
On that same day, a group of New Imperial Disciples landed on that same moon, most of them hardly past their Allegiance Ceremony. They swiftly proceeded from the space dock to the Mo Estate, where multiple eye-witnesses reported monstrous creatures prowling at night.
“A portal destruction,” one of the disciples suggested. “A civilian must have decided it would be fun to play with antimatter.”
Their unofficial leader, Lan Sizhui, shook his head. “We’d be seeing a lot more damage if antimatter were in play. It’s something else.”
“Where else would the Azurals be coming from?”
“We don’t know that they’re Azurals.”
“Come on,” Lan Jingyi said. “Multi-limbed creatures eating people that just happen to be glowing blue? They’re Azurals.”
As he spoke, the Gossamer Class skiff they were riding beeped twice, signalling the beginning of its descent. The bickering disciples quieted as the skiff dipped beneath the clouds, slowly approaching the sprawling estate below.
Immediately, their eyes were drawn to the shield towers—four out of the five were untouched, their shimmering barriers surrounding the north, east, and south sides of the estate. But on the western side the tower was unlit, and the incomplete barriers spritzed with energy, leaving a gaping hole in the shielding.
As Lan disciples, they had seen shield damage before, but having an entire tower down was… intense. Gusu’s moons were not a kind place. Even if Azurals weren’t involved, the locals would still be in great danger.
Lan Sizhui gave his orders quickly. “You four, sweep the perimeter. Make sure that the working shields are still strong. Two of you come with me to talk to the Mo family. Everyone else, go directly to the damaged side. Deploy whatever temporary barriers you have with you, and keep your eyes out for any signs of Azurals.”
They dispersed immediately.
Wei Wuxian woke up with a buzzing sensation in his limbs, a telltale sign of a Bliss-induced hangover. It took him a moment to fully become conscious, during which he realized that his whole body hurt.
What had happened? The last thing he remembered was the cold of DarkSpace wrapping around him.
And this, wherever it was, definitely was not DarkSpace. It was cold here, but nowhere near the iciness that had killed him.
Right, he was dead. Or had been, at least—the deep ache in his bones made him feel unfortunately alive.
He groaned and rolled onto his side, straining to see in the dim light.
Empty eyes stared at him.
He choked back a scream, scrambling away from the body.
What the fuck?
From what he could see, there were deep claw marks on the boy’s body. But they didn’t seem to be purposeful—it looked like he had been stepped on by a large beast.
He started crawling toward the boy, slipping as his hand landed in something wet, and he held it up to the light, sluggish mind trying to identify the blue substance. “Azural blood,” he muttered, then frowned. If he wasn’t in DarkSpace anymore, why would there be Azural blood coating the floor?
Where was he?
A movement in the corner of his eye brought him back to the present. The boy’s fingers twitched, but nothing else happened. There was a stillness in his body and a glassiness in his eyes that was all too familiar.
The buzzing sensation sharpened, and Wei Wuxian abruptly realized that it wasn’t a drug side-effect: the air itself was vibrating, creating a low humming noise that was all too familiar.
He turned around slowly.
The portal floated half a meter above the ground, a glossy black against the grey walls of the room. Red light glowed around the edges, clarifying anything he’d been wondering—this was a glitched portal, leading into the DarkSpace.
The edges of it were blurry, and he could tell that the boy on the ground had tried and failed to close the portal.
Wei Wuxian sighed, and reached out a hand, tracing familiar shapes in the air. With a burst of energy, he closed the portal, the red light flashing across the room once before disappearing.
That done, he rubbed his eyes, trying to organize his thoughts.
So far, all he knew was:
- He was alive again.
- A random boy had managed to create a glitched portal and somehow pulled him out of the DarkSpace.
- The boy was now dead.
He sighed again, already tired of living.
The adjacent room had a datasplay, thank god. He waved a hand over the sensor, and it lit up.
Without the password, there wasn’t much he could do, but he could at least find some basic information. It was 0945 Standard Time. The most recent user on the datasplay was MoXuanyu, who he assumed was the dead boy. The device was linked to the ‘Mo Estate’ groundpoint, along the Ice Belt, which explained the freezing temperature. And most importantly: the year was 2275.
It had been thirteen years.
He picked around the two rooms a little longer, but didn’t find much. There was a cot in the corner of the second, along with a small stack of semi-clean clothes. The first room didn’t have much besides the body and an open door, barely hanging onto its hinges. Blue blood made a path to the door, then continued to the outside.
An Azural was on the loose, then. Even an injured one could wreck an entire town, and unless this Mo Estate was full of cultivators, they were in serious danger.
Wei Wuxian doubled back to the second room, grabbing the clothes Mo Xuanyu had left behind. He was, after all, still wearing the dirty prisoner’s jumpsuit that he’d been executed in.
He put them on without shame, enjoying the feeling of the loose grey robes despite their roughness. There was something nice about not wearing military clothing, especially since he’d done it all his life.
Appropriately clothed, Wei Wuxian left the small shack, glancing back only once. He felt a little bad about leaving the body just lying there, but the escaped Azural took priority. Unfortunately, he had no idea how long the portal had been open, or even how many things had come through.
The layout of the Mo Estate was similar to most middle-class families along the Ice Belt rimworlds—one central building, with small personal rooms spiraling outwards. He followed the path with practiced ease, shivering despite the thickness of his new robes.
It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of many voices, and he quickly drew back into the shadow of a building, listening closely.
“—yes, I saw them! So young and handsome, dressed up in those white uniforms—”
Someone giggled, and another voice added, “I even got a peek at their laser staff! They were glowing, you could almost feel the energy coming off of them!”
Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. Calling a tunshi energy disrupter a laser staff was like comparing a horse to a cat. Yes, they did have a similar shape to the ancient dao, and could be used similarly in close-quarters combat. A horse and cat both had four legs, so they must be the same, right?
Still, his ears perked up at the next statement.
“They’re still in the main hall if you want to see them. And you should, it’s not everyday we get such distinguished guests.”
More laughter, but Wei Wuxian was already slipping away towards the main building. Nearly all cultivators, no matter how strong, would have trouble dealing with Azurals. They were trained primarily as peacekeepers; they might have some knowledge of interdimensional beasts, but nowhere near enough to take down a full-strength Azural without back-up.
He, of course, was a different story. Hadn’t he pioneered Azural research, constantly discovering new things about the beings that crawled out of DarkSpace, hungry and vicious? The universe wouldn’t be the same without the discoveries of the Yiling Patriarch.
He moved to silently stand behind a pillar, shivering in the cold morning.
Beyond it, he could see several civilians, most likely members of the Mo family. But he had no interest in them; his focus was on the group of eight youths carrying tunshi disruptors.
They were dressed in white therma-robes, all bearing the cloud pattern of Gusu Lan Academy.
Deja vu clouded his senses as he remembered a different boy dressed in white, with a ribbon carefully adjusted across his forehead. That seemed like an eternity ago.
He refocused on what they were saying.
“Multiple portals appeared along the outside of the west shield, all of them unstable. In the morning, all our servants there were dead, with only one surviving. That one says she saw blue shadows moving in the darkness.”
It seemed like this Mo Xuanyu had summoned more than he could handle. Not only had the shield broken, leaving the Mo family vulnerable to the natural ice-forms of the planet, but he’d also let multiple Azurals escape.
Wei Wuxian looked at the group of cultivators a little doubtfully. Sure, they were Lans, and that meant they were well-trained, but they weren’t going to be able to take down an Azural.
The head boy spoke again, his voice calming. “We ask that all members of the family stay away from the west side of the estate. That’s where we will be doing our work.”
They bowed to the Mo family once more, before leaving the greeting hall.
Wei Wuxian followed them, careful to stay out of sight. They were going almost exactly to where he had woken up, which amused him greatly.
He watched as they set out bait and a triangular prism that looked oddly familiar. As Wei Wuxian watched, he realised why—they were his own invention! The prism would act as a powerful heat source, attracting all sorts of ice-forms.
From there, the cultivators would try to seal the area, locking the beasts in, and then bombarding them with energy from their tunshi swords.
It was a good plan, but Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but worry for the young cultivators.
He would watch, he decided, and step in if things started looking bad.
Night came quickly on the small moon, and from his hiding place, Wei Wuxian could hear the high-pitched calls of Azurals. More than one. His best guess was two, an adult and a juvenile.
He watched the cultivators make quick work of the ice-forms, but the Azurals were still closing in.
One of them was almost on top of the Lan cultivators.
It was a fully grown Azural, its giant, lizardlike body stretched between two buildings. It was larger than both buildings, and they creaked from the weight of it.
It bared its fangs at the young boys, snarling loud enough to wake up the whole estate.
In true cultivator form, they locked their swords, sending pulse after pulse of energy towards the Azural, who absorbed all of them.
They were no match for the beast, and they seemed to know that, given how pale their faces were. One was fumbling for a flare, and the others were desperately trying to keep fighting.
The cry of the second Azural split the night, and Wei Wuxian took that as his cue to enter the fray. Maybe the boys could defeat one, but they definitely couldn’t handle another.
He stepped out into the courtyard, making himself visible. And then he began to whistle.
It was a low, haunting tune that resonated in the courtyard, the sound growing larger as it bounced off of the walls.
The Azural immediately twisted toward him, away from the little Lans. Good, that was what he wanted.
They reacted strongly to any type of music—he had always preferred the dizi—as the music shattered their thoughts. If exposed to music for long periods of time, they would eventually go insane.
And wasn’t that what he was best at?
He moved closer, still whistling. Without his flute, he didn’t have a chance of making one go insane. The best he could do was get close, interrupting any thoughts the beast might have, and then—
Wei Wuxian slammed his hand on the ground, opening up a chasm to the DarkSpace. The buildings and the Azural all collapsed into it, as the ground beneath them disappeared.
As fast as he could, Wei Wuxian sealed the portal again.
It was that particular move that had turned the world against him. Portals weren’t meant to be messed with, especially so with glitched portals. But he’d found incredible ways to use the glitched portals, for which he’d been executed.
One down, one to go.
In the meantime, one of the disciples had sent off the flare, turning a brilliant green in the dark night.
Given their age, they’d have at least one older cultivator nearby to supervise. He just had to help them out until that cultivator arrived.
At that thought, he suddenly touched his face. He’d be instantly recognized, and then they’d glitch him right back into the DarkSpace.
Let them die and run away, or help them and get caught.
Wei Wuxian cursed to himself, and then startled when he was abruptly surrounded by the Lan boys.
“That was so cool!” one of them said. “Are you a cultivator, too?”
“Sort of,” he said. “Not really but kind of.”
“That made no sense,” one of the boys in the back said, but Wei Wuxian ignored him.
Yet another boy bowed before him, holding out his sword as properly as possible. “This one is Lan Sizhui. Thank you for your help.”
He shook his head. “We’re not done yet. There’s another, and it’s getting closer.”
As if on cue, an ear-splitting cry emerged from behind them.
The boys immediately moved into formation, swords pointing out. He couldn’t help but think how cute they were. Was that what he had been like, back in the day?
The juvenile Azural shrieked again, and their focus was instantly diverted to the youngling sprinting towards them.
“Shield lock!” Lan Sizhui called, and the boys instantly complied, each deploying their section of the greater semi-circle shield.
The Azural crashed right into their shield, but, Wei Wuxian happily noted, none of them flinched. They were well-trained indeed.
He started his whistle again, this time with a softer tone. Juveniles could become quite deadly as a response to music. The song he whistled now was more precise and specific to the juvenile Azurals.
He took a breath, and then guqin music filled the night.
Immediately, he looked up, and then looked down as fast as possible.
Hanguang-jun had arrived. He stood atop one of the roofs, his guqin before him and a cold look on his face.
What luck, he thought. Of all the people supervising disciple cultivators, it had to be Lan Wangji.
He kept up his whistle, this time trying to match it to the guqin in a loose harmony, but still being unobtrusive.
The Azural squawked, and Lan Wangji played another chord, making it writhe on the ground.
Now that Lan Zhan was here, he definitely couldn’t open another portal, or he’d be found out in seconds.
But he was spared the conflict when Lan Wangji jumped from the rooftop, sword extended, and pierced right through the thing’s ribcage.
As if they’d practiced, the younger boys ran forward, each stabbing another vital part of the Azural.
Wei Wuxian watched until he was absolutely certain it was dead, and he scrutinized the corpse as the light faded from its eyes.
He meant to slip away, but one of the disciples quickly caught his arm. “Let us introduce you to our teacher, and tell how you saved us.”
He heard Lan Wangji’s low voice ask an inaudible question to Sizhui.
“He appeared and saved us from the Azurals,” Sizhui quietly said. “He seems to have much skill.”
He tightly shut his eyes. He could hear Hanguang-jun’s measured steps as he circled around him, finally stopping to see his face.
There was a sharp intake of breath.
Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, forcing a smile onto his face. “Lan Zhan, what a surprise.”