The Corridor of the Eclipse was a living, breathing entity of pure, concentrated despair, and Lin Ji'an was treating it like a hostile health inspector trying to shut down her kitchen during the dinner rush.
She did not yield. She did not stop.
She swung her cast-iron spatula through the suffocating, pitch-black void, her Body Fusion core roaring like an open furnace.
The darkness shrieked, physically clawing at her Szechuan Red trousers, attempting to drag her backward into the agonizing, soul-shattering revelations of the first nine timelines.
"Your brother is an empty husk because of you," the shadows hissed, adopting the cold, bureaucratic tone of the Star-Seers.
"Your master threw away his celestial grace to become a drunken hermit for you. You are a parasite on the timeline, Lin Ji'an. Lie down. Let the cycle end."
