Chapter 7Through Shadows and Stone

The moment the Fox Spirits lunge, Zobito steps in front of me.

No weapon.

No drawn stance.

She simply raises one arm—open hand glowing with ethereal blue light—and catches the lead Fox Spirit mid-pounce with a flat-palmed slam to the floor that sends a thunderclap echoing through the shrine. Celestial energy ripples outward in concentric rings of sapphire light.

The Fox Spirit crumples without a sound, its form shimmering with golden sparks before dissolving into wisps of amber smoke.

The others falter, eyes narrowing with violet fire, tails bristling with crackling electricity that fills the air with the sharp scent of ozone and burning fur.

Zobito’s head rotates precisely, her neck joints clicking softly like clockwork gears. A low chime hums through the hall as glowing lines along her arms and chest pulse brighter, shifting from blue to emerald green. The air crackles with static electricity, making my hair stand on end.

“Hostile confirmed.
Civility protection protocol: engage.”

The Black Husk Soldiers charge, their obsidian forms trailing tendrils of shadow that writhe like living darkness.

Zobito moves through them like a storm given form, her movements a blur of calculated precision that leaves trails of golden light in the air.

She doesn’t slice. She doesn’t kick. She shoves, slams, pivots—each motion releasing bursts of golden energy that scatter the shadow soldiers like leaves in a hurricane. The air fills with the metallic tang of ancient stone and the sweet scent of Celestial energy, like jasmine and starlight mixed together.

A shoulder check knocks four Husk Soldiers into a pillar, shattering ancient stone. Emerald light explodes from the impact, sending shards of crystal flying in a starburst pattern. The sound is like breaking glass mixed with thunder, and I can feel the vibration in my chest.

An open-handed sweep sends another flying backward into its allies, limbs scattering like brittle twigs. The air crackles with violet lightning as the shadows dissipate, leaving behind the acrid smell of burnt shadow and the cool touch of displaced air.

I duck under a fallen beam and shout, “Left side! Behind you!”

Zobito doesn’t turn—she simply spins, her body rotating in a perfect arc that sends her hair streaming like liquid silver. Dropping into a low wide stance, she punches the floor with both fists.

A shockwave ripples outward in waves of golden energy, the stone fracturing in geometric patterns that swallow the charging Soldiers into crevices of her making. The ground glows with runic symbols that pulse with ancient power, and I can feel the heat radiating from the glowing symbols through the soles of my shoes.

“Warning acknowledged.
Your support: efficient.”

My heart nearly bursts with adrenaline.

“Efficient?! No, you’re awesome!” I yell, scooping up a glowing Celestial crystal and hurling it like a dodgeball at a charging Husk Soldier.

The crystal bursts like fireworks, releasing a cascade of rainbow sparks that dance around the soldier’s face. It starts running in circles like a headless chicken, its shadow form flickering between solid and ethereal.

Zobito then snatches that same soldier mid-lunge and throws it into the air, where it slams into a column twenty feet up with a hollow crunch that echoes through the chamber like a gong. The impact sends ripples of golden energy through the stone, and I can smell the ancient dust that rises from the impact.

The ceiling groans.

“Ouch… overkill.”

Debris rains down with a sound like hail on a tin roof. Dust clouds the air, swirling with motes of magical light that tickle my nose and make me sneeze.

But it isn’t enough.

The Fox Spirits’ egos are as bruised as their swollen faces. They’ve regrouped, and they snarl with ferocious intensity. More are coming.

A different, deeper yip.

And then the ground shakes.

No—it trembles.

From the shadows, the Rock Guai steps forward.

Three times Zobito’s height. Shoulders like collapsed mountains. Its face a melted mess of stone and moss and something that shouldn’t be breathing, with eyes that glow like molten amber.

Each step sounds like a temple falling sideways, the ground cracking with geometric patterns of golden light. The air vibrates with each footfall, and I can feel the ancient stone trembling beneath my feet like a heartbeat.

Even the Fox Spirits fled quickly.

I swallow hard.

“Zobito,” I say carefully, “that one’s… probably not going to be impressed by your open-hand technique.”

Her head rotates precisely, her eyes glowing with analytical blue light as she processes the threat. The mechanical sound of her neck joints is eerily precise, like a clockwork doll coming to life.

“Threat: extreme. Probability of success: 34%. Probability of collapse: 97%.”

“Cool cool cool, I don’t really like those odds,” I mutter, backing up. “So we’re running now, right?”

“Negative.
Protection protocol: prioritize host exit.”

She steps forward, and the ground cracks beneath her heel, golden energy rippling outward like water from a stone dropped in a pond. The sound is sharp and crisp, like breaking ice.

The Rock Guai swings a boulder-sized fist, its arm trailing streams of amber light.

Zobito catches it—barehanded—and the stone beneath both their feet shatters into concentric circles of golden energy. Her body sparks with violet electricity, arms straining, but she holds the punch, barely, like a dam holding back a tidal wave. The air crackles with static, and I can feel the heat radiating from the point of impact.

That’s when I spot it.

A cracked support beam above the Rock Guai. Just barely hanging, its surface etched with ancient runes that pulse with fading light.

I duck behind a column, cup my hands around my mouth and shout in my best echo-mimic Fox Spirit yip:

“Phalanx! Charge at the Rock Guai!”

Some of the Black Husk Soldiers stutter mid-step, their legs dancing in confusion, arms waving madly. They run up to group-hug the Rock Guai’s arms, their shadow forms wrapping around the stone like living darkness. Again, not the command I was hoping for, but something is working in our favour. The Rock Guai, distracted by the soldiers’ embrace, stares at this whimsical chaos with confusion—so surreal even the rock lets out a deep, rumbling giggle that sends vibrations through the floor. The sound is like distant thunder mixed with the grinding of massive stones, and I can feel it in my bones.

Zobito, hearing the Rock Guai’s laughter, follows my gaze—

—and slams the Rock Guai’s fist sideways, redirecting the force into the wall. Golden energy explodes from the impact, sending ripples of light through the stone. The explosion is deafening, and I can feel the pressure wave hit my chest like a physical force.

The beam cracks. Splits. And collapses.

The ceiling caves inward, burying half the chamber in dust and rubble with a sound like a thousand books falling from a shelf. A pillar of golden light shoots upward through the opening, illuminating the night sky. The air is thick with dust that coats my tongue and makes my eyes water.

“Zobito!” I yell. “Time to go!”

“Acknowledged.
Emergency egress: initiating.”

And with that, she turns, grabs me around the waist in a gentle-but-terrifyingly-strong arm, carrying me like an upside down ragdoll—

—and begins to run.

The shrine is falling apart around us, magical energy bursting from every crack and crevice.

Zobito runs—not fast, not graceful—but like a freight train carved from willpower, one hand wrapped around my waist like I’m a scroll she isn’t about to lose. Her feet slam against the stone floor, sending dust clouds up with every impact, each step releasing bursts of golden energy. The rhythm of her footsteps is like a heartbeat, steady and unrelenting.

Behind us, the swarm erupts.

Black Husk Soldiers pour from cracks in the walls, their shadow forms trailing streams of violet light that hiss like steam. More Fox Spirits scramble overhead, barking orders in sharp, percussive yips that crackle with electricity and make my ears ring. From pits below and vents above, new shapes emerge: spined shadow-crawlers with eyes that glow like embers and smell of burnt charcoal, flying things like glass-winged beetles that scatter rainbow light and hum like distant wind chimes, a wave of skittering limbs and snarls that pulse with dark magic.

“How many are there?!” I shout over the roaring wind.

“Within my sensor range, two hundred and seventy two,” Zobito says calmly, her voice shifting to a more natural tone that sounds almost human, warm and reassuring despite the chaos around us.

“Accurate. Very helpful!”

Another wall collapses behind us, more shadowy shapes pouring out in a cascade of violet light that smells like burning rubber and tastes bitter on my tongue.

“Actually, make that three hundred and five.”

Her feet slam against the stone floor, sending dust clouds up with every impact. Statues crack, releasing bursts of golden energy. Arches crumble, burying a small squad of soldiers in a shower of magical sparks that sting my skin like tiny needles.

“Minus ten, maybe?”

Then I hear it—the command yips.
Three short, one long—instantly, the Husk Soldiers shift formation, their movements synchronized like a dark ballet. The sound is sharp and precise, like military drums echoing through the chamber.

“Wait… wait—!”

I twist in Zobito’s grip, looking back.

The Fox Spirits aren’t just barking.

They’re directing.

The swarm isn’t random. It’s tactically responding.

Like an army.

“Zobito! The foxes—they’re controlling the soldiers! Shut the yips up, stop the swarm!”

“Acknowledged.
Command disruption: priority.”

Zobito pivots hard into a side tunnel, legs hammering. The Yaoguai turn to follow—
—until I cup my hands and mimic a yip I’d heard earlier.

“Hrrip-rraah—!”

The front line of Husk Soldiers jerk, stopping mid-sprint.

They turn toward each other. Some stumble. One smacks another in the face with its shield, sending red sparks flying that crackle like fireworks and leave the air smelling of burnt peat.

“YES!” I howl. “You guys are so grounded!”

One Fox Spirit leaps toward us from a ledge, fangs bared, its form trailing heat that leaves a warm trail in the air.

Zobito doesn’t flinch. She drops a shoulder and slams into the wall—

—bringing the ceiling down on top of the ledge. Stone shatters in a burst of golden energy, the Fox Spirit disappearing in a cloud of magical dust that sparkles like glitter and smells like crushed quartz.

A second tries to leap past her—

“On the right!” I shout.

Zobito lifts her knee and clotheslines the Fox Spirit mid-air, sending it flipping backward into a support beam, which cracks loudly and collapses onto the skittering swarm. The impact releases a wave of golden energy that ripples through the air like heat waves on a summer day.

“Disruption: achieved.
Path: opening.”

Up ahead, the tunnel splits again. One fork collapses under falling debris, magical energy bursting from the rubble. The other leads upward, toward a broken shaft of daylight that glows with ethereal light.

And just as we reach it—

The Rock Guai crashes through the wall behind us.

It roars—low and guttural—and flings a chunk of wall after us like a boulder, the stone trailing streams of amber light.

Zobito turns, shielding me with her back—
The impact explodes against her armour, sending golden sparks flying in all directions that sting my exposed skin like tiny needles.
She stumbles forward.

“You okay?” I shout.

“Minor damage.
Priority unchanged.”

The Rock Guai grumbles, turns around to push a boulder, its massive form glowing with ancient power.

“Uh-oh, the big ugly’s trying to block the entrance!”

Zobito crouches.

I feel a rumble through her body, like a distant earthquake building to a crescendo.

Her back unfolds—panels clicking open with mechanical precision, light gathering—and with a soft whisper of displaced air, ethereal wings unfurl like morning mist given form. They’re not solid but made of pure light, translucent and iridescent like dragonfly wings, their delicate membranes pulsing with rainbow light that casts dancing shadows on the walls. The wings seem to breathe with her movements, expanding and contracting like living things.

“Flight protocol: engaged. Calculating trajectory.”

“YOU CAN FLY?!” I shriek.

“Affirmative.”

Zobito launches upward, kicking from the crumbling floor. Golden energy explodes from the impact, propelling us into the air with a force that makes my stomach drop.

The swarm screams behind us, clawing at the walls, their shadow forms reaching upward like dark tendrils. The sound is like a thousand angry bees mixed with the screech of metal on stone.

The boulder is narrowing the exit. I can see the moon through the cracks, its silver light filtering through like liquid mercury, but light is fading quickly.

A few Black Husk Soldiers try to leap after us—
I throw a can of Sarsparilla from my backpack at their eyes. “BACK OFF!”

The soda can pops, distracting them with the sudden burst of foam that smells sweet and sticky. They scream in horror, their shadow forms flickering with confusion like broken television static. “Take that! Enjoy preservatives and tooth decay!”

Zobito soars, and we keep charging faster, bursting through the crumbling roof of the shrine like a star punching out of the earth—until the shrine bursts open above us, moonlight pouring down in silver streams.

“WE MADE IT!! I’m not dead!” I look back down, and the shrine is completely sealed by the boulder. I hear a faint collision noise, and the swarm must’ve charged into the Rock Guai.

In mid-air, we emerge, basked in Zobito’s Celestial energy glow, ragged and soaring, into the moonlight above Shen.

The world flips.

Zobito’s wings flare wide, their ethereal membranes catching the moonlight and refracting it into a thousand prismatic shards. They’re not rigid like metal but fluid and organic, rippling with each movement like silk caught in a gentle breeze, their rainbow light dancing across the night sky.

Below us, the cracked ruins of the Celestial Shrine groan, the weight of a thousand years finally collapsing.

“Hold on tight,” Zobito says, her voice shifting to natural language mode, warm and reassuring like a friend’s hand on my shoulder.

She twists mid-air, shielding me with one arm.

Then—

Zobito’s wings pulse with pure light—not with fire, but with ethereal energy.

A surge of pale gold and violet radiance streams from her translucent wings, illuminating the night. The air vibrates with magical energy, sending ripples of brilliance through the clouds, making the sky shimmer like a vast, living ocean. Her wings seem to drink in the moonlight and amplify it, becoming brighter with each beat.

Behind us, a single trail of light lingers, rising for seconds into the clouds. It shimmers with ancient hums that pulse with violet-golden energy, a resonant frequency I feel in my chest—like the heartbeat of the universe itself.

High up in the air, and far, far away I see the Heartland Empire as a distant glow on the horizon, its vast expanse stretching beyond the rolling mountains. The capital city is just a shimmer of golden light against the dark landscape, like a constellation that has fallen to earth. The violet-gold trail of light we’ve left behind streams across the night sky like a comet’s tail, painting the heavens with colours.

The capital stands there, unaware that its salvation has just escaped from the depths of the Celestial Shrine. Our light trail pierces the clouds, its radiance mingling with the distant city lights like two stars finally finding each other across the vastness of space.

Destiny is whispering to me, exhausted, its voice soothing me to sleep with the gentle rhythm of a lullaby. My eyelids are so heavy now, but before I drift off, I catch one last glimpse of our light trail—a bridge of violet and gold connecting the fallen shrine to the sleeping palace, like a promise written across the stars.