Chapter 32: Anqi

Yang Xiang's fingers tightened on the edge of the plinth.

Lu Anqi.

Even now—covered in dirt, her dark braid unraveling, eyes rimmed with exhaustion—she exuded the same cold grace he remembered from university lectures. She had always walked a step ahead of everyone else. Calculated. Unreachable.

Yang opened his mouth to speak, but all he could manage was, "You… found the Core too?"

She didn't answer at first. Instead, her eyes swept over the chamber like a scanner, ignoring him entirely. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and precise. "This isn't the Core. It's a misdirection chamber. Designed to test vessel response."

"Vessel response?" he echoed.

"You're holding the copper seal," she said, stepping closer. "It only activates for specific biological markers. You're part of the original registry. That makes you… valuable."

Yang felt like the stone floor had shifted beneath him. "You know about the registry?"

"My father created it." Her tone was flat, as if she were listing a museum fact. "Before the project was shut down. You're not the first survivor. But you might be the last."

He stared. "Then why did he abandon it? Why was I left behind?"

She turned, ignoring the question. Her lantern cast flickering shadows across her sharp features. "You were never meant to be activated."

The words hit harder than he expected. He wanted to ask her if she remembered him—the awkward assistant sitting in the back row, always too quiet. But she already seemed miles away.

"Listen," she said. "We don't have time. The Core is awakening, and the vessel threshold is collapsing. The others—whatever's left of them—will come looking for you."

Yang's voice was tight. "And you came alone?"

"I didn't. My team was… absorbed."

"Absorbed?"

She looked at him then—really looked. Something flickered behind her eyes. Regret? Or calculation?

"They wore their own faces after," she said softly. "But they weren't mine anymore."