Chapter 10: The Breath Before the Storm

Lin Xian awoke with the taste of something ancient on his lips, a flavor that spoke of forgotten places and long-lost names. His body felt heavy, as though it had been dragged through a labyrinth of dreams, each one more distant and fractured than the last. The monastery chamber was dark, save for the faint glow of the stone walls, which hummed with a strange, unsettling energy. It was the kind of silence that felt like it might consume him, a silence too deep for comfort.

Mei was beside him, her hands pressed against his chest. He could feel the warmth of her touch, but it was like it was coming from far away. The reality of her presence seemed almost unreal, as if she might dissolve into mist at any moment.

"You stopped breathing," Mei's voice trembled, strained with panic. "For five minutes."

Lin Xian blinked slowly, as if awakening from some terrible slumber. He could feel the weight of her gaze on him, the desperation there. Her hands were still on his chest, but he barely registered the sensation. He felt detached from his own body, as though he was floating outside himself, watching from a distance.

"I—" His voice was hoarse, cracking like brittle stone. "I'm not sure what's happening to me, Mei."

He sat up slowly, the room spinning around him. His body seemed to obey his commands sluggishly, as though it was no longer his to control. He reached for his forehead, feeling the lingering ache that throbbed behind his eyes, a remnant of the dream—or was it a vision? A nightmare? It didn't matter. It was still there, a part of him, echoing like a distant voice that had been calling to him from across the fold of time.

Mei's face was pale with fear, her eyes wide. "What did you see?"

Lin Xian hesitated, unsure of how to explain the fragmented reality he had just experienced. The dream, the rift, the ancient whispers—it was all becoming one, a tangled web of images that refused to make sense. But there was something about it, something undeniable. Something that knew him.

"I don't know." He shook his head, though the certainty of his words felt false. "It's like… I'm losing myself, Mei. And something else is taking my place."

Her hand gripped his arm, urgent. "You promised me you'd hold on. You promised you wouldn't let it take you."

"I… I can't promise that anymore," he said quietly, staring at the ground. The weight of his own words pressed down on him, but the truth of them cut deeper. "I'm not who I was before. Something inside me has changed. I don't know if I can fight it."

Mei's breath caught in her throat. Her fingers tightened around his arm. She needed him to be the man she had known. The man who had stood by her side through every trial. But this new version of him—the man he was becoming—terrified her in ways she couldn't put into words.

She drew in a shaky breath. "You have to fight it, Lin Xian. You can't let this—this thing—become who you are. You can't let them win."

The words were full of desperation, and she didn't even realize she was crying until a single tear fell and splashed against the stone floor. It felt so wrong, this moment. Everything felt wrong.

Lin Xian rose to his feet, swaying slightly. The air in the monastery chamber felt thick, heavy with some invisible presence, as if the very atmosphere had become a force against him. He looked at her, his eyes hollow with the weight of the nightmare's memory.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep fighting, Mei. The dreamgate—it's calling to me. It's not just a door anymore. It's a part of me."

The words hung in the air between them, an unspoken understanding settling over them both. The rift was closing in. Whatever force had been awakened inside him was pulling him in deeper. He could feel it—a presence, ancient and unknowable, stirring beneath his skin. And the more he fought it, the harder it became to resist.

Mei stepped closer, placing her hands on his chest, her touch grounding him. She spoke slowly, her voice soft but firm. "You are stronger than this. You can fight it. You just have to believe you can."

"I've believed for too long," Lin Xian whispered, his voice breaking. "But now… I don't even know who I am anymore."

There was a long silence, and the monastery seemed to hold its breath with them, the stillness stretching out until it became unbearable. The rift had come closer. He could feel it in his bones, the very air thick with the power of it. The rift-beast, a formless shadow of memory, was drawing nearer, and Lin Xian knew it wasn't just hunting him. It was waiting.

The ground beneath their feet shuddered, a low rumble echoing from the mountain's core. The monastery's ancient stones groaned as if protesting the coming storm.

Mei's eyes darted toward the window. Outside, the village far below had fallen into a deep, unsettling sleep. People lay unmoving in the streets, in their homes, wherever they had been when the sleep overtook them. It was the same as before—a collective slumber, a dream that had pulled them all into its grip. And in each of their dreams, the same name echoed: Lin Xian.

The door to the chamber creaked open with a low groan, and Serakai stepped in. Her face was pale, her expression grave. Without a word, she approached them, her eyes scanning Lin Xian.

"It's close," Serakai said. "The rift—whatever this thing is—it's almost here."

Lin Xian nodded slowly, his eyes distant. "I know. It's not chasing me. It's waiting for me."

Serakai's brow furrowed. "This is no ordinary rift-beast. Whatever is drawing it to you… it's not something you can face alone."

Lin Xian closed his eyes, and for a moment, the world around him disappeared. His mind opened, flooded with the sound of whispers—fragments of forgotten dreams, voices that weren't his. Ancient and powerful, they tugged at him, pulling him toward something vast, something that had been waiting for him long before he had been born.

He clenched his fists, trying to block them out, but the pull was too strong. The stone beneath his feet hummed louder, vibrating with an intensity that made his teeth ache.

"I don't know if I can fight this," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Then you'll have to learn how," Serakai said, her voice cutting through the haze. "Before it consumes you."

Mei looked at Lin Xian, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "You have to remember who you are," she said softly. "You have to fight for yourself. Fight for us."

For a long moment, Lin Xian stood there, his mind torn between the call of the rift and the fading remnants of the person he once was. The shadows in his mind had become too real, too powerful. And the price of his power had become clear. To control it, he had to surrender something—something that would never return.

He turned away from Mei, from Serakai, and faced the doorway, where the world outside waited. The storm was coming. And Lin Xian had no choice but to face it.

"I'll go," he said, his voice resolute. "I'll face whatever is waiting for me. But I need to know who I am—before it's too late."