"Your name is... Xie Xie, right?"
Little Purple lightly touched his forehead. His fingertip rested between Xie Xie's brows, featherlight, as though touching the surface of water. A cool breath of energy seeped from his fingertip and coursed through Xie Xie's meridians, holding together the shattered, still-crumbling edges of his Sea of Spirit, suppressing the churning flecks of golden light, and drawing out his pain bit by bit.
"Hah..."
Xie Xie braced one hand against the ground and held Little Purple's wrist with the other. His fingers clamped around it, his knuckles white. Beads of sweat rolled from his temples and dripped onto the water, sending out tiny rings of ripples. His chest still heaved violently, and something seemed to block his throat, making every breath harsh and heavy.
"I... am. Xie Xie."
He spoke weakly. His voice was hoarse, as though squeezed from the depths of his throat. His eyes had reddened, and moisture clung to his lashes. The mental storm had struck him hard. To protect him and keep him from losing his instinct to resist, his brain had forcibly replayed the most deeply etched experiences of his life.
Including... his mother's death.
That scene flashed again. The white hospital room, the smell of disinfectant, the figure on the sheets who had wasted away to skin and bones. Her hand rested lightly on the back of his, as though it might slip away at any moment. She had said something, but he could no longer remember what. All he remembered was that her hand had been cold when it slipped from his.
"I'm... truly sorry about what happened. Please forgive me, Xie Xie."
The God of Destruction had connected to Xie Xie's Sea of Spirit back during the inheritance. Everything Xie Xie had just seen, the God of