“So… can you help me take this bracelet off first?”

Along its cracked rim, the bracelet sat like iron bedrock; Night Frost’s Mana washed over it like surf, and it didn’t budge.

Frustration first, then clarity—she guessed her stingy old master had carved the core Array Pattern deep inside. As long as that line held, the seal held.

And the other patterns were compressed at the center, like layers of knots around a lock. Without the matching Key, it wouldn’t open.

“You forgot? I already melted the Key.”

Night Frost knew; she’d watched it dissolve. Still, if the Array Pattern sat within, instruments plus her craft might cut it. Then she’d return to Cantata Two.

The Eye Orb hesitated, his glow dimming like a wavering candle. He had dragged her back, wanting her normal—if she reclaimed power, catching her again would be like snaring wind.

But they were short on blades. If Night Frost took back her strength, she’d be a pillar. With the Black Dragon and Miracle, her power might even lead them out.

The Eye Orb wavered like a leaf in crosswind.

Night Frost saw it. Calm rising before action, she lifted her hand and cupped him, a small star resting in her palm.

“I’m grateful. You gave me power. If you want it back, I won’t resent you—but not now.”

“The wounds and this pit aren’t your fault. I chose this heart, and I’ll bear the price. I still have things unfinished. When they’re done, I’ll return this heart.”

Her voice rippled through the not-big, not-small room, like bells in mist. In the Eye Orb’s sight, her gaze blazed steady, bright as frost-lit moonlight.

He slowly closed his lids, melting. He couldn’t refuse her.

No perfect path—only necessity. For now, cooperate. Until she gives the power back, he’ll guard her like a lighthouse—that, too, is his duty.

“Got it. Let’s go to that lab.”

He pointed to the elevator bay, where Ms Feng’s body lay in storage with scattered instruments. Usable or not, the place could still let Night Frost and the Eye Orb reclaim Cantata Two’s strength.

After that, meeting up with Lin would be much easier.

The Eye Orb pinged comms. Far off, Lin received the departure signal. He eased out of the office like a shadow, told Yin Tiancheng and Yin Chen Yue to hide in a cabinet, then slipped to the south elevator.

Night Frost’s Spatial Box went back to its owner. She changed into a nimble outfit, pulled two small knives for insurance—she doubted they’d scratch an Earth Dragon, but something beats nothing.

She checked her wounds; nothing fatal. Then she and the Eye Orb set out.

The elevator wasn’t far, a short walk in calm times, but Earth Dragons now packed the way like an ant tide—weak alone, dangerous in swarms.

Night Frost could carve and use wood figurines to mislead them, but she chose silence over alarm—no need to stir up Chu Qing, wherever she lurked.

They skimmed the edges of buildings like shadows hugging eaves, and soon slid cleanly to the elevator bay.

Lucky—these Earth Dragons weren’t clever; they ran preset routines like wind-up sentries. Keep distance, and you don’t trigger their bite.

The elevator was stalled mid-shaft. No problem—Eye Orb’s target was below. With a rope scrounged from a corner, Night Frost lowered them, inch by inch, to level B2.

“Supposedly, these spaces were left by a construction miscalculation. Add some load-bearing walls, and—poof—hidden lab. They call it a lab, but it feels more like a warehouse.”

The Eye Orb explained, tapping two commands on a screen. The gate rose with a slow, metallic sigh.

Night Frost stepped in. Rows of tall vats and jars filled her view—artificial bodies, alive yet flawed, like flowers grown from salt.

Ms Feng’s body floated inside a nutrient canister, tucked in the farthest, dullest corner.

The Eye Orb had modified that shell. Synthetic plus modified meant short life—three months to the limit. After that, it would age like burning paper, then collapse into chemical polymer dust.

No matter how you forge a shell, nothing beats your own skin.

Night Frost couldn’t help but admire. Her eyes filled with snow—dazzling, fearful white that stabbed like sunlight off ice.

The Eye Orb plunged into the nutrient bath; nerves unfurled like ivy from his back, lancing into Ms Feng’s hollow right eye. The endings docked with her brain, and his vision sharpened like glass wiped clean.

Following his instructions, Night Frost drained the canister. Ms Feng’s tentacles flexed, and shattered the glass from the inside like a breaking tide.

In that instant, the tentacles wrapped her vital parts like armor; suction cups unfurled under her soles, gripping the floor glittering with shards.

“Built body and still this modest, huh…”

Night Frost sighed, a sprinkle of teasing. She had hoped for eye candy, but Ms Feng gave her none.

Ms Feng stepped aside and slipped into a slick gel suit. She said the last time she came from the Divine Cult Modification Center, she wore the same—just under the clothes.

The suit hugged her tentacles like second skin. Normal clothes choke their bloom, hampering her full force. In this suit, tentacles could sprout at will; each limb would be sheathed and guided outward.

Even if she filled the entire room with tentacles, the suit wouldn’t tear.

“Great suit, sure—but it caps you, doesn’t it? Meaning, you’re strongest when you’re… naked?”

Ms Feng’s mature face flushed. Night Frost wasn’t wrong—only bare, she could unleash all ten parts of her strength.

“Then don’t wear it. I’m not gonna look.”

Night Frost muttered under breath.

“People need shame, okay! Even if I’m an Eye Orb at heart, going in bare screams pervert, not monster-slayer! And you won’t look, sure—but others will! One glance, and my reputation’s ashes!”

Night Frost raised both hands in surrender, and the sparring fizzled out.

Ms Feng regained her body and led Night Frost to a machine bed. She’d never used these—gene work doesn’t need industrial teeth.

Night Frost eyed the machine, brow tight. One wrong move and it’d shave her hand clean—still, those cutters might sever the last Array Pattern.

“He says—it’s ready!”

Ms Feng skimmed the manual on the Eye Orb’s tablet. Plugged the power, flipped a few toggles, and the milling blade spun up like a hungry wasp.

Night Frost swallowed. She wouldn’t stick her hand in—one drill slip and her palm would open like a new mouth; not better than the cut she took days ago.

“No, wait—it’s not ready at all.”

She had barely refused when a thunderous boom rolled from above. Ms Feng and Night Frost dropped the banter and climbed the rope fast.

Four-colored Magic Cannon lanced the firmament. The void cracked open from the inside out, like glass punched by a titan. A yawning Abyssal Rift bled dense Abyssal Aura, yet no Monsters spilled through.

Stepping out of the Abyss came Crimson, clad in scarlet Magic Armor. In her hand swung a bundle of metallic, mechanical Monsters. After Cantata Three died, those things went rabid and sprang from the black Abyss like sparks.

Crimson was set to leave, but they clogged her path. She cut them down in passing and harvested a pile of Magic Stones.

Night Frost and Ms Feng reached the undercity. Fourfold light had gnawed the Abyss, crumbling it into shadowed rubble. In the Rift’s heart stood Crimson, unwavering. From her angle, four-colored light speared the undercity’s reflection—through that hole, the radiance poured in like a river.

“What… what a terrifying Magic Cannon.”

Night Frost’s eyes widened. Crimson’s shot could breach the lock between these two Abysses.

Even so, the four-colored beam was being swallowed, inch by inch, by the closing Abyss like a tide devouring a sandbar.

“Plan change!”

Ms Feng spoke into the comm.

“Lin, take Yin Tianchen and Yin Chen Yue and go. The Abyss is broken. There’s time—and the entrance is just ahead of Crimson.”

Lin heard, peered out, and saw light spilling into the Abyss. That was the doorway.

Through that entrance, Yin Chen Yue could be saved, and Yin Tiancheng wouldn’t die. Lin gathered his courage, grabbed them both, and sprinted for the exit like stormwind.

“Forgive me, boss. Miss.”

He ran light-footed, burning every ounce of strength. He stepped on twisted metal like stepping stones and landed at the mouth of the hole, sure and steady.

As he was about to push them through, a voice—familiar yet strange—brushed his ear. Reflex flared; he shoved Yin Tiancheng and Yin Chen Yue out.

Gold-black flames bit his back, licking like Blades. The heat sliced his skin, stinging sharp as ice.

He turned into the fire and saw her—gold-black Magic Armor, dark-golden eyes, gently curled hair. Night Frost’s face, but Lin knew this wasn’t Night Frost.

He’d seen photos of Night Frost in armor—bright red-gold that etched his memory. The woman before him was more like her reflection on a dark lake.

“Reflection? Uncle, that’s rude.”

She saw right through him.

“I’m the real deal!”