He felt himself fall with perfect clarity.
He had lost.
His head kept buzzing, buzzing without end.
He lay on his back atop a mound of corpses, his battered body like a torn rag doll. Blood seeped from every wound, and every bone wailed in agony.
He saw Xiao Fan fall too, his body already mangled beyond recognition.
Flames licked at flesh and blood, and charred skin twisted into a blackened silhouette.
He saw countless Ancient God Beasts crawling over his body.
Bathed in his blood, they cheered.
He was unwilling to accept it.
He was furious.
"I understand..."
A roar rang through his mind:
"The Ancient God Beasts interfered with Xiao Fan's perception. They made him see things that weren't there. Sometimes, even I was affected."
Endless resentment tangled in his heart.
He struggled to raise a hand, a hand that seemed to hold up the sky, as though it would unleash his mightiest power.
"Brother, slow down."
Memories from long ago suddenly swept over him.
"You're running too fast, Brother."
"When we get back, I'm telling Mother you bullied me."
The girl's voice trembled softly, like a stream of music drifting down from the clouds and rippling through his heart. Clear as dew, elusive as mist, every note glimmered with heavenly radiance.
He froze, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.
This was the dream he couldn't bear to lose.
It was the first, and only, landmark in his life.
He had spent his whole life pursuing it, yet he could never again reclaim that first taste of carefree idleness.
He would never find it again.
His coldness, his madness, his obsession—all were like countless futile climbs, carrying him farther from that unreachable shore even as they made him yearn for it all the more.
"Little Sister..."