Sanzi’s Memories

Sanzi's breath was ragged. The purification circle still pulsed faintly beneath him, casting a golden hue against the frozen interior of the Ice Cathedral. His silver hair lay disheveled across his shoulders, no longer imbued with frost but warm with returning blood and life. His fingers twitched as if awakening from centuries of slumber. Kaito knelt beside him, steadying his weight.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” Kaito murmured, inspecting the faded curse marks across Sanzi’s skin. “Too long.”

Sanzi’s eyes fluttered open—no longer azure flame, but dim gray, heavy with memories.

“There’s… much to tell,” Sanzi said hoarsely. “And little time.”

Kaito helped him sit up against the shattered ice throne. “Start from where it broke. From the beginning.”

Sanzi coughed, then exhaled sharply. “It began with the Forbidden Pact.”

Kaito’s eyes narrowed.

Sanzi looked toward the cathedral's fractured ceiling, where moonlight filtered through a spiderweb of cracks.