A Fracture in the Mirror of Revolution

The small waterfall before the secluded cave entrance wove a curtain of flowing tears. Inside, the damp air was charged with something heavier than water: silent betrayal. Jin Lian stood, her dagger still unsheathed, her ashen eyes fixed on Mo Tianyin, who looked like a statue carved from ice in the pale light of dawn. Between them, Kai knelt, gasping, his neck bearing red finger marks like a humiliating brand.

"Three lives... there's blood on your hands." Jin Lian's words sliced through the silence like a blade. It wasn't an accusation—it was a truth suspended in the wet air.

Mo Tianyin didn't raise a weapon in defense. He merely turned slowly toward the curtain of falling water, as if seeing scenes far removed from the present. "Blood… would have flowed far more if we had stayed." His voice was calm, yet carried a distant echo, like a man speaking from the bottom of a well. "Fang, and the others… bought us time. Time for the cause."

"The cause?!" Kai exploded, his voice ragged with pain and fury. "Did you hear their screams? Did you see Mai Ling's eyes? She looked at me… like I betrayed her!" A tear mingled with waterfall mist on his cheek.

"The real betrayal is hesitation!" Mo Tianyin turned abruptly, his eyes blazing with cold white fire. "Betrayal is putting petty emotions above the fate of thousands still born in chains! Above a girl who will be sold tomorrow in the new slave market Ling Bo is building from the ashes of the old!" He stepped toward Jin Lian, his shadow swallowing the dawn's weak light. "You… 'Doll of Tainted Blood'… have you forgotten why we started? Or has that first taste of victory blinded you with weakness?"

Jin Lian did not flinch. The dagger in her hand did not tremble. "We began to build a world where no one is born a slave. But what good is that world if we build its walls from the skulls of those we meant to save?" She looked around the cave at the six trembling survivors: mine workers, servant girls, teenagers. Their eyes shifted between her and Mo Tianyin, divided between old loyalty and new fear. "Is this the strength you speak of? A power that crushes the weak to defend an idea?"

A heavy silence. Even the waterfall seemed to quiet. In that moment, the cell was not just a band of rebels. It was a cracked mirror, reflecting the contradiction of revolution: a fire that frees… or consumes all in its path.

Kai rose slowly, clutching his neck. "I won't follow a man who sees my blood… my brothers' blood… as an acceptable price." He stood beside Jin Lian, silent defiance burning in his bloodshot eyes.

One by one, the six stepped from the shadows. Three stood behind Jin Lian and Kai — two women and an old man. Only two remained with Mo Tianyin — harsh-faced young men whose eyes gleamed with the same cruelty. The split was complete.

Mo Tianyin looked at the groups. He showed no disappointment, no anger. Only cold acceptance, like a finished calculation. "Weakness… is a contagious disease," he said, his words dripping ice. "Those who wish to die slowly under the weight of false mercy… follow the doll." He pointed his thumb at Jin Lian. "But those who want to see the system burn—even if we burn with it—follow me." He turned and slipped through the curtain of water into the world beyond, the two harsh young men silently behind him.

The cave felt suddenly empty, despite holding seven people. Jin Lian breathed deeply, finally sheathing her dagger. She had to lead now. But to where?

• • •

Lower Yulong City was under the rule of organized terror. Liang Jiuyong, "Lord of Heaven", had turned it into a laboratory of fear. New bodies were hung daily—not just "Tainted Blood," but even "Mixed Bloods" accused of "sympathy." More terrifying, however, were the abducted. People disappeared from their shacks at night and returned days later... changed. Their eyes were hollow, preaching the "virtues of the system," condemning the "Doll of Tainted Blood" as a demon. Liang employed advanced techniques: psychological torture, drugs that blurred reality and nightmare, and brainwashing that made victims deny their very identities.

Lord Chen was the executioner. People saw him leading "cleansing squads," his face devoid of mercy. But in his sharp eyes, there was another glimmer: the realization that Liang Jiuyong did not simply want to crush the revolution—he wanted to turn it into his weapon. Every "converted" victim was a message: Even your heroes can be broken and rebuilt to serve us.

• • •

Jin Lian and her small group—Kai, the two women (Ming, a former maid, and Lin, a mine worker), old Bao, and the teen Tao—became ghosts in shadow alleys. They no longer had a safe cave. Their hideouts were fleeting: an abandoned rooftop above a tavern, a basement behind a forgotten temple altar, even the filthy sewer network under the city. Life became a series of swift movements, secret whispers, and constant searches for food and water.

Kai was a coal of anger. "We must strike! Like we did at the slave market! Show them the doll still lives!"

But Jin Lian remembered the cave. She remembered Fang and Mai Ling. "A strike without purpose… is suicide," she said, studying a faded map of the sewers Tao had stolen. "Liang Jiuyong is waiting for that. He wants us exposed." She looked at the weary faces around her. "We need… something different. Something he won't expect."

"What?" Ming asked, her voice shaking with cold and hunger.

Jin Lian placed her finger on a point on the map: "Imperial Grain Sub-Depot." A place where surplus wheat and barley were stored before distribution to army camps and noble quarters. Heavily guarded, but… "Hunger is our weapon too," she whispered. "And not a weapon that kills the innocent."

Her plan was simple and bold: no fire. No direct theft. Contamination. Contaminate a portion of the grain with a non-lethal herb that caused diarrhea and fever — a plant whose properties she learned from Mai Ling in the slaughterhouse. The goal wasn't starvation, but to disrupt the system and force it to show weakness. To let the starving poor see that even the "Pure Blood's" food isn't untouchable.

"But how do we reach it?" old Bao whispered, his eyes widening at her audacity.

"Through here." Jin Lian pointed at a sewer route running directly beneath the depot. "There's a drainage grate… and a 'Shadow Spider' waiting for our signal."

• • •

Mo Tianyin, meanwhile, was building a different army in the Old City Graveyard — a forsaken place filled with broken headstones and thorny cypress trees. His new recruits weren't hopeful victims yearning for freedom. They were the angry and desperate, outcasts from both "Mixed" and "Tainted" blood, those who had lost everything and now desired only to burn. They were led by two lieutenants:

"The Deaf Blade": A hulking man whose tongue was burned with hot iron as a child for screaming during his master's lashings. Every emotion now translated into silent violence.

"The Serpent": A gaunt woman with reptilian yellow eyes, an expert in poisons and silent strangulation.

"Mercy is death," Mo Tianyin told them as they trained, slashing straw dummies made to look like guards. "Here, we revive the dead… by sending our enemies to join them." His plan was direct and deadly: a suicide assault on Liang Jiuyong's temporary palace. Use chaos and raw terror to kill the "Lord of Heaven"—or at least wound his image of invincibility.

When he heard whispers of Jin Lian's plan to poison the grain, he sneered. "Child's play. Liang Jiuyong won't starve from diarrhea. The system doesn't tremble from cramps." He looked to "Deaf Blade" as the man crushed a wooden dummy's skull in his bare hands. "Terror… is the only language they understand. And we'll speak it in fire and fury."

• • •

Night of execution. The sewers beneath the grain depot were a tunnel of dread. The stench was unbearable, darkness absolute, the sound of brave rodents echoing. Jin Lian led the group, her lamp wrapped in cloth casting just enough light for each next step. Kai carried the dried toxic herb, Ming and Lin carried an empty pail to collect grain samples as proof, Tao and Bao watched the rear.

At the rusted drainage grate beneath the depot, they saw the mark: a spider etched into metal with a fingernail. Then—a soft scraping from above. The grate slid open silently. A young face appeared—a teenage "Tainted Blood", eyes wide with both fear and courage.

"Xiao Feng… the Spider," he whispered.

They worked quickly. Xiao Feng pulled up the empty pail to collect grain. Jin Lian poured the dried herb into a small ventilation shaft that led directly into the storage floor. The bitter scent mingled with mold.

Suddenly, from deep in the dark maze—sounds. Not rodents. Heavy human steps. And… dog breaths!

"They've found us!" Kai hissed in panic.

Xiao Feng shut the grate swiftly. "Go! The main route is blocked! There's another exit… but dangerous!" He pointed to a narrow side tunnel, its water deeper and filthier. "It leads to the outflow beyond the walls."

No choice. They rushed into the tunnel. The water rose to their waists, cold and thick as mud. The stench nearly killed them. Behind, dog barks and guard voices: "Here! In the sewers! Don't let them escape!"

Running in sludge was a nightmare. Tao stumbled and fell. Kai dragged him up. "Faster! Don't stop!"

Suddenly—light ahead. The sewer's exit. The outflow river beyond city walls. But it wasn't starlight—it was torches! A squad of guards, red flower insignias glowing, stood waiting with drawn swords. Their dogs snarled. It was an ambush.

"A trap!" Ming screamed, hopeless.

Jin Lian scanned around. The slick concrete walls—too high to climb. Nowhere to run. In the guards' eyes—sadistic anticipation. In their dogs—hunger.

Then—above, on the street beside the outflow—a commotion. Shouts. Wood cracking. Then… flames! A fire burst from a wooden stall nearby, distracting the guards and dogs.

"Here! Now!" a voice shouted from above. Duke, the one-armed tavern owner, waved down. He threw a thick rope. "Climb! Quick!"

Their only chance. Kai pushed Tao first. Bao grabbed the rope with shaking hands. Ming and Lin scrambled up. Jin Lian was last. As she climbed, she felt a dog snap at her boot—teeth grazed leather but missed. The rope jerked her skyward.

Above, Duke pulled with shocking strength. "Run! Into the alleys!" he whispered, pointing to a maze of dark lanes. Behind them, the fire distracted the guards—but they were catching on.

They ran. Their breaths shattered glass in their chests. Finally, in a shadowed alley, they stopped. Safe… for now.

"How did you know?" Jin Lian asked between breaths.

His face, solid in shadow. "Liang Jiuyong… isn't a fool. He knew the sewers were weak points. He planted ears there." He pointed down. "But the 'Shadow Spiders'… we have ears among his guards too. I knew of the trap." Then added, his voice grim: "And… I learned something else. Mo Tianyin and his soldiers… they're attacking Liang's palace. Right now."

Jin Lian's heart stopped. The suicide assault! On the same night as their mission! A distraction—or… a deadly competition.

"Where?" she asked, her voice dry.

"In the western noble district. But it's a trap too. That place… will be a slaughterhouse."

She exchanged a look with Kai. No words. Just memories of Fang, Mai Ling. And blood about to be spilled in the revolution's name.

The fracture in the mirror was about to become a bloody shatter.

"We must stop them," Jin Lian whispered—not out of love for Mo Tianyin, but because every drop of blood spilled in the wrong battle was a loss for the whole cause.

They ran toward the western district, leaving the safety of shadow. Toward another blaze… perhaps the last one. And deep in the city, the first explosions rocked the noble pavements of "Pure Blood" palaces, as if the earth itself was cracking open centuries of wrath.

The revolution was devouring its own children… and the system smiled behind a curtain of fire and blood.