rogue_5

As for Wang himself? When has he ever cared for others' advice? He wants to win, of course. From the dawn of heaven and earth to the moment all things fade into oblivion, such a match is rarely met, such an opponent rarely found—what weiqi player would not wish for victory? For the sake of this victory, he sits atop the Shadow-Moon in unending inference, until his hair grows white and his body and mind both begin to fail him. There is always a price to pay to peer at Heaven's design.

But, what is victory? His past loathing and hatred, burning for a century, still blaze bright in his heart. For that 'chance to succeed', for that distant so-called 'continuation' of life, will he push the mortal realm before him into the muddy waters? This... mortal realm that might not be quite so dull after all.

It seems the machine's judgment is nothing remarkable either. An ending like this would be a great defeat in his eyes. He rolls a new stone between his fingers, beginning yet another round of calculation.

The sky shimmers as a giant meteor falls.

Sui lifts Its head, watching the visitor from the stars beyond approach the ground.

Whenever a meteor's arc streaks across the heavens, It is the first of Its herd to raise Its head.

Curiosity, cognition, consideration. What Its herd lacks, It had already evolved.

It believes It knows everything there is to know about everything: Its origin, Its species, Its land.

And thus the only things left that bring It pleasure seem to be these rare gifts from the cosmos.

The meteorite lands, then spreads across the ground. In the time it takes Sui to take one insignificant breath, a huge ring is born from the stone, floating in the air above the northern reaches of the land.

This time, the ring catches the interest of the herd. They see a radiance gather within it, which then displays a bizarre, alien vista. Within that sea of thousands of floating rocks, a great boulder shaped like a cube appears, coming to a stop above Their great land.

A 'ship'. That is the name the lifeforms named 'humanity' call the stone they live within.

A yawn, and a blink, and the environment They inhabited for countless eons has changed—

Countless structures have been defined and become a part of Their cognition.

Yet another ring, a gate used by humanity to come to this place, lands in the far south.

Amidst the lava flows in the deepest depths of the sea, that substance so hostile to Feranmut life, a cluster of steel constructs develops.

By the side of the moon, a miniature companion comes to completion in its shadow.

As for Its kin, those who were first to establish relations with humanity already have a herd of descendants, a people who are half-man and half-beast.

Sui did not reject communication, but It would not participate in this so-called 'research' and 'experimentation'. Up above the rapidly changing land, It holds onto Its dispassion, sensing the transformations wrought by supernatural evolution.

Would humanity's development be able to aid Its own evolution? Sui considers the possibility, but after countless years of inertial thinking, a rather more warped, impractical idea begins to take shape within Its thoughts—

Humanity can become <i>tools</i> for Its evolution.

It believes that with another hundred years, or a thousand, It would be able to raise Its head high above all of humanity without a care, just like how It did amongst the herd before they arrived.

Sui looks towards the sky. Within the distant void, a few stars are consumed by the darkness.

Wang pauses the memory here.

As humanity follows the scroll into the depths of the Tomb of Sui, Wang walks along the other side of the scroll.

It was he who made it, so naturally it will loyally adhere to his strategy: humanity will stir the memories of Sui, and leave behind that trace of ink upon the scroll, priceless beyond measure.

At the same time, by being within the Tomb, he must join in this game as well. From Sui's truest, naked, unadorned memories, he will find the key to defeating It.

But at this precise moment in time, he does not follow that particular path of obsession.

He follows Sui's gaze out of the corner of Its eye, steps beyond the boundary of Heaven and Earth, enters the cold companion in the shadow of the moon, then walks to the side of a researcher in a heated debate with colleagues.

Wang stops here, taking in the scene for a moment. He then turns his head, his eyes fixed on the thing in front of him.

It is an ordinary tree. A curved one with jade branches and green leaves. There is no glass enclosing it, nor is it suspended in any medium. It grows here in accordance with the laws of nature, in the middle of this place filled with inorganic artifacts. Perhaps the only reason for its existence is to remind humanity of the thrum of life amidst all this steel.

With a wave of his hand, Wang places this moment into his sleeve, then disappears from the memory.

It was part of a scene Sui had only inadvertently glanced at, a mere set dressing for the ancient civilization's ingenious superstructure, but it afforded the chance for a Sui proxy to be born.

From the tree within that vague memory, he makes a treasure, one he will always keep by his side.

Wang decides to entrust this truest of memories to him. With the help of his power, Wang will be able to leave an eternal mark within the Tomb of Sui.

Surely, the eighth sibling, will also be ecstatic upon seeing this gift.

Wariness ultimately triumphs over anger and foresight. The final choice of the True Lung is to not flash the blades of Yan at the bestial Sui.

This reverence is soon rewarded.

The people of Yan are able to traverse the entirety of the land, hunting and sacrificing every Feranmut they find in the name of their god. Between the freezing icefields and the burning sands, there flies only a single banner.

But it does not stop there.

Sui senses humanity's discontent. It understands why it came to be, for they are creatures bound by blood and emotion. When Its thoughts caused some of them to be erased, it was only natural that the flame of vengeance burned bright within their hearts.

It had bestowed Feranmut-slaying spears unto man, knowing there would come a day that those spears would be pointed at It. It had seen the cold light shining off their points before, and It would not afford humanity a second opportunity.

Its past experiences had given It inspiration. Before conquering Its oceanic kin and the inheritors of prehistoric man's legacy, Sui decides to first solve Its own problems.

Prehistoric humanity had once combined their cells with those of Feranmuts, creating the race known as 'Elves'. It had not partaken of this union, and so had none of these creatures to accompany It.

A slumbering Feranmut can still know of all things, for the 'Feranmut proxies' born during this time can observe and understand things in Its stead. Once the Feranmut awakens, all that belongs to It shall return to their source.

What It needs are not elves, nor proxies. The growth and development of humanity is beyond even the causality-transcending power of the Feranmut to contain. Its fallen kin are proof enough of that. So why not present Its body as a gift to them?

Yet another True Lung, yet another hunt, but this time, their target is the god who bestowed power unto them.

Rivers of blood flow, and corpses are strewn across the land. Yan has paid a heavy price. But in the end, they are victorious.

The body of Sui is offered up in sacrifice, just as Its former kin were. But the one accepting the offering this time is the King of Mankind.

All is according to Sui's plan.

Humanity believes they have overturned the mountain squatting atop them, overcome that temperamental supreme power pulling their strings. They believe they have grasped onto freedom.

Its head is severed and kept as a memento, Its bones are used to construct nomadic cities, and the masses feast upon Its flesh. Every part of It that existed upon this land is partitioned by humanity.

And so It lives on, within the body of every human.

After a millennium of both peace and turmoil, Oripathy is eradicated, Feranmuts are extinct, the ocean is conquered, and the races live in harmony. As a civilization, this is Its golden age, one grand enough to suffuse the hearts of each of Its members with hope for the future. With the starpod destroyed, humanity steps from its cradle for the very first time, and ascends to the twin moons. Every 'Terran' feels irresistibly drawn towards theories about the future and what lies beyond the star-strewn sky.

As for those few who have survived from that prehistoric age—Friston, the Doctor, Kal'tsit—they do not understand how humanity, as it is now, is able to break free from the Observers' confinement, and avoid the extinguishing of all life.

Of course they could not understand.

What they see is individual and collective, society and civilization.

Not even the greatest minds of the era would have expected that they live within the body of Sui.

The basic units that once formed the bodies of Feranmuts have been replaced by 'humanity'. What is known as the realm of Yan is Its body, transcending cause and effect.

As It had never been truly destroyed, then in this foreseen future, It will be eternally unassailable by the destructive logic of the Observers.

In this one aspect, It has surpassed all life! Now, Its body shall expand to fill the entirety of the universe! It shall grow, and grow, until existence meets with nonexistence, the finite touches the infinite, entropy's increase collides with its decrease. When that time comes, It will be but one step away from ultimate victory!

This is but Sui's dream, Sui's imagination, Sui's arrogance.

Wang turns this absurd delusion into an obstacle for the rite-takers to deal with, so that this dangerous, ambitious dream will be shattered at the hands of man.

The elderly carpenter and a group of disciples bid farewell to Ju, leaving this land that will soon descend into chaos.

Even though they have walked far, Ju can still hear their weeping. Many of them had been born under Ju's steps, and had confronted Feranmut and humanity both in order to stop the two sides from coming to conflict, in accordance with Ju's teachings. But now, war has come.

A war between man and Feranmut, a war between species, a war that promised no rest nor quarter.

And so, Ju took those that followed It, those who were close, to become Its elves, and 'drove them out'. This way, they would not have to suffer the pain of choice.

It was also so that It may implement what gave Its life meaning without burden. Those rules that had formed between It and them, and the vision of peace It had preached.

A low hum echoes across the land, and a mountain steadily emerges by Ju's side.

Once, They were as beasts, unthinking and uncommunicative. Humanity's arrival not only changed the land, but it also irreversibly changed how Feranmuts treated one another.

At the very least, in this age of imminent extinction, cooperation becomes a choice. Just as humanity behaves.

They sense the gaze of Sui falling upon Them, along with the hostility and pride within that gaze. As for Them, not even the most ancient and venerable Hou holds even a wisp of anger in Its heart.

The trickle humanity had fed Sui has matured after many years of evolution. Its curiosity and arrogance have changed It completely. Ju and Hou are well aware that It has long been the Feranmut who most resembles humanity. Its command over humanity, using them to slaughter Its kin? No different than any other king in human history.

But this is Its nature, Its governing rules, Its essence of being. With evolution as Its base, It was destined to look at Its kin from angles They could not perceive. In the aftermath of this inevitable clash of biology, Ju and Hou accept this outcome.

And so, after reprimanding this excessive, unnatural portion of evolution, They will give Their bodies unto Sui.

When nature's cycle renews // When the law nears perfection,

For in time, They shall return.

The megastructure on the dark side of Terra let out a wail. None had expected the first omen of ruination to be so low, so deep, an unstoppable shaking that could be felt everywhere. Rumors spread, and the entire land turned to panic. Now, atop a vast river, a lone raft carrying three sails away from the crowd, towards the horizon. Two of the three are drinking together, with a most peaceful and quiet atmosphere.

'A nice argument, but your logic is flawed.' The peculiar-looking artisan keeps shaking his head. 'According to you, those who know themselves do not understand, but rather can never know freedom.'

The plain-dressed elder across from him is rather interested in this debate, taking his time with his reply as he takes them on a different tack: 'I have a story, one that is quite relevant. Several years ago, before the land had become a complete mess, I was traveling the far southern seas, where I saw a musbeast as big as a man's palm...'

The artisan rudely interrupts him: 'Your story's the same as your argument, Brother Hou. I've been listening for thousands of years now, and I figured out the rules long ago. You're thinking of saying 'The heart is large, perhaps larger than the ocean is deep', aren't you? You should know when to stop deluding yourself.'

The elder does not mind the offense, instead laughing at how his slow wit stubbornly refuses to change. He turns toward the third occupant of the bamboo raft. He does not partake in the drinks, nor does he join them in debate. He simply looks toward where they came from in silence. Here, with the shore long out of sight, naturally he will no longer have to see the panic-stricken eyes of those trying to put on brave faces, the conflict at all hours of the day as the end neared, or the clamor that gives him a headache.

'What say you, Wang? Where has your unfettered freedom gone this time?' The elder kindly passes him a cup of wine. Wang accepts it, then places it back down onto the raft: 'It is a habit of mine to not drink while I do things.'

'I had no idea you were such a stickler for law and order.'

'Just watch, Wang. Brother Hou's about to point at that cup and tell you it's got no wine in it—that you must not be bound by such distinctions.'

The three men on the raft give each other knowing smiles.

Law and order bind only the body. If the heart wishes to be unfettered and free, it cannot be shackled by worldly things,' says Wang.

In this life, people come and go. Old matters left unfulfilled are mixed with new bindings, inevitably tangling together like strands of silk.

This particular thought is of no need to speak out loud. He merely turns to the plain-dressed elder: 'As for you, if you truly have this freedom you speak of, why would you appear here?'

The two ponder the meaning of Wang's words, and find a new point of view within. They return to their debate with renewed vigor, heedless of the darkening skies above their heads or the strengthening waves around them.

Their jar of wine, stamped with the emblem of Yan's army, is near-empty. An ancient custom of the army is to see off advance teams. In these trying times, Feranmuts and the humans of Yan turned from foe to friend, standing together on the front lines against the end. The wine symbolizing trust and valor, too, was shared with them. The main armies maintain their distance from them, awaiting their signal.

As the raft approaches the end of the great river, their chatter and laughter are drowned out by a clamorous noise on occasion: not just the sounds of the river's flow, but also the sound of countless joints bending, countless limbs slamming against the ground as they march, and countless humans bellowing out as they give their all in battle. Their raft has finally drifted to their destination. Beyond the land known as 'Terra', within the boundless abyss of its dark side, the enemies from beyond the sky are about to break through humanity's greatest defensive line and invade the known world. The sky is shrouded, with not a single ray of light allowed through. More enemies are gathering at the other end of the megastructure humanity once used to move to and fro between the land and the Shadow-Moon, so that they may descend on Terra.

The flags of many nations were torn apart in the attack. The corpses of their soldiers are strewn together across the battlefield. The river shakes violently from tremors in the ground, as the bamboo raft gently berths.

'Think carefully, Hou. If you step into this battle, you shall never have the freedom you desire.'

'If one walks alone with the pure spirit of heaven and earth, how can one be limited by life and death?' Wang answers on behalf of the plain-dressed elder. The elder looks up to the sky and laughs, and with his two companions, they move themselves towards the battlefield.

The primordial fog shrinks back, and gloomy night becomes brightest day.

The smoke rises from the censer in spirals, standing steady on its stone platform. In the depths of its belly, the Feranmut yet slumbers. He feels that his own body has become lighter, as if he has turned into a wisp of smoke rising through a hole in the censer, floating across the heads of the Candleholders and Imperial Guards, floating past the sealed stone door of the mausoleum, floating through the skies above Baizao, towards distant lands.

He is Sui's sole proxy, born bearing the entirety of Its wrath. And so, his mission is to make humanity, make the True Lung, pay the price for betraying their gods.

Avoiding the encircling Imperial Guard, the searching Candleholders and the ensnaring Tianshis, he walks the land, alone. As the great wild hunt has proven, relying solely on the might of Feranmuts is insufficient to destroy humanity. Thus, he does not mind blending in with the crowd, twisting man's society and order to his own ends, so that he may throw all they have created into the flames.

After the hunt came hardship, with refugees and bandits milling about the land. The end of the Hundred Clan Rebellion saw the realm's treasury being squandered to near-exhaustion. The hunt was not simply for conquest or the defense of the nation. While future generations will know of it as a great feat for their benefit, in the here and now, a single thought of the True Lung first brought corpses strewn everywhere and the collapse of the ancient order. The people can not yet see any outcome of felling the Feranmuts; all they know are the bowls of plain congee they cradle, so thin you can see the bottoms through the grains.