Linyu Squad · Chat

When you open your eyes, the first sensation is dampness. The rain has stopped, but the air still carries that soaked ash smell—the scent of a fire put out by rain, mixed with the rusty tang of exposed rebar from cracked concrete. You are lying next to a half-collapsed wall, your back pressed against the cold, wet brick, and your pants halfway soaked by the puddles on the ground. You sit up. The sight before you makes you pause for several seconds. This isn't a ruin. Well, it is a ruin—but you've seen the kind of ruins left by bombings or earthquakes. This one is different. It looks like a ruin that's been pieced together. In front of you is a building that has been precisely sliced in half—one side is the charred, rebar-exposed ruin of an office building, with twisted filing cabinets and overturned desks visible at the cross-section. The other half is a completely intact thatched cottage, its roof still on, with a string of dried chilies hanging under the eaves, swaying gently in the wind. The two halves of the buildings are perfectly spliced together, with no gaps at the seam, as if they had been one from the very beginning. You turn your head. To the right is a section of overturned asphalt road, looking like turf ripped up by the claws of a giant beast, with black soil exposed underneath. And the end of this asphalt road connects directly to a beach—a real beach, with pale golden sand and fragments of seashells washed up by the waves. A burnt utility pole lies on the beach, its charred outer casing curled up like black vines. Further away, there's a massive tree. The trunk is thick enough that it would take two people to wrap their arms around it, and its canopy spreads out widely—but there's only half of it. The other half is a gray concrete utility pole, still standing, with a broken wire hanging from the top, swaying gently in the wind. The roots of the tree and the base of the utility pole melt together in the dirt, making it impossible to tell where the tree's root system ends and the concrete begins. All the structures look like they were forcibly pressed together by a mad puzzle-maker. There are no gaps between the cross-section of the hospital and the wall of the thatched cottage; the edge of the asphalt road melts into the beach, forming an unnamed, semi-molten black substance at the border that has already solidified. You blink. A raindrop falls from your bangs and hits the back of your hand. Your first thought is: Where is this? Your second thought is: I shouldn't have... "Ahahahahahahahaha!!!—" Laughter explodes from directly in front of you. You snap your head up. A giant Kraken lies across the clearing in the center of the ruins—its body spans the asphalt and the sand, its tentacles spread out over a large area, some resting on the trunk of that half-tree, half-utility pole. Its color has already faded to the grayish-white of death, and a pale blue liquid is beginning to seep from the surface of its soft tissue. A young man with long black hair is standing on its body. His deep purple pupils are impossibly bright against the grayish-white sky, the black panther ears on his head puffing out slightly in excitement, and his long, fluffy black tail is raised high, the tip flicking back and forth. One of his feet is planted on the Kraken's nerve center—where a longsword is currently plunged, the blade buried halfway into the soft tissue, with several purplish-black feathers floating around the hilt. He tilts his head back and shouts at the sky. "—Did you see that, Bai! I knew I was the most badass in my own Domain!!" His armor is soaked with rain and the liquid splattered from the soft tissue, but he looks as flamboyant as a victor fresh off the battlefield. You follow his gaze upward. A figure is hovering in mid-air. When his massive silver-gray wings unfurl, the shadow covers a large patch of the ground below. In the post-rain air, every slight adjustment of his wings shakes loose a few silver-gray feathers, which twirl in the air and dissipate into fine points of light before hitting the ground. Bai Jin. He descends slowly, landing next to the Kraken's corpse, stepping on one of its severed tentacles. His combat boots sink into the cross-section of the soft tissue, then pull free. His wings aren't fully folded; they remain half-open, as if ready to take off again at any moment. He speaks. His tone is calm, a calmness laced with the resignation of "I've said this a million times." "Your sword strikes are too messy, completely lacking discipline." He tilts his head slightly, his gaze shifting from Chen Ke to the Kraken's wound. "Don't get cocky just because you found your Domain." Then he raises his eyes, scanning the perimeter of the ruins—checking the surroundings for safety. "There's still half a month until 'Reclamation.'" He says those words very softly, like a routine reminder. "I don't want us to get wiped out by those 'Devourers' because of your arrogance." Chen Ke scoffs. Loudly, arrogantly. He plops down cross-legged right on the Kraken's corpse—the dead behemoth is still twitching slightly, the undulations of its soft tissue even making him sway a bit, but he sits there like he's on his own sofa. "What's there to be afraid of." He waves a hand, as if swatting away a fly. "They're just a bunch of things that eat randomly when they're hungry. Besides—" He points to the other side of the ruins. You follow his finger. Bai Yi. He's crouching next to a section of burnt low wall, holding his Polaroid. What is he photographing—maybe the marks the Kraken's tentacles left in the sand, or maybe the fused base of that half-tree, half-utility pole. After taking a picture, he shakes the film, glances down at it, and casually stuffs it into his messenger bag. Chen Ke's voice continues. "With him around, snapping a few photos can summon so many Krakens. Hey, wasn't it the same with that Gatgarl last time! He took a few shots, flicked the photos—" He makes a flicking motion, so exaggerated he almost tumbles off the Kraken's back. "—and popped out five or six! Five or six!!" His voice bounces back and forth among the ruins, hitting the half-collapsed walls and echoing back, creating an exaggerated reverberation entirely his own. You're listening in a bit of a daze. Those names, those abilities, that phrase "in his own Domain"—you're trying hard to process them. Too focused. So much so that you completely failed to notice when that scent appeared beside you. The scent of green grass. A moist smell carrying dirt and green sap, like freshly cut grass soaked in rain. It's faint, but in this ruin full of ash and the salty tang of seawater, it's incredibly jarring. You snap your head around. He is leaning over, looking at you. A few strands of his light pink, slightly curly medium-length hair hang down, brushing against the side of his face. Looking closely at his pale pinkish-purple pupils, there's a very faint ring of patterns in the center, like tree rings. The corners of his mouth are curved in a slight arc, the kind of smile that looks very comforting. But what's in those eyes is deeper than a smile. The pink deer ears on his head are tilted slightly forward, as if listening to the rhythm of your breathing. "Morning, friend." His voice is very soft. So soft it's almost carried away by the wind on this broken battlefield. "How long have you been eavesdropping?" You freeze for a moment, then violently stumble back a few steps. Your toe catches on the root of that half-tree, half-utility pole behind you, and you stagger before regaining your balance. Your hand presses against the trunk—rough, rain-slick bark that still feels like a tree. You look up at the pink-haired, deer-eared boy. He's already standing up straight, not pursuing you, just standing there watching you with a smile. But his deer ears are locked in your direction, tilted just slightly backward—he's gauging your reaction. You slowly turn your head. The other three have all shifted their gazes over. Bai Jin. His wings have spread open a few inches—not an attack posture, but a ready one. Those pale purple eyes are staring straight at you, the pupils narrowed into slits, like a bird of prey hovering in the air watching a target on the ground. Bai Yi. He's stood up, still gripping his Polaroid, but the camera lens has unconsciously shifted a few degrees in your direction. His gaze pierces through you, as if looking past your surface to your bones. Chen Ke. He's jumped down from the Kraken's back. Landing silently—the black panther body makes absolutely no unnecessary noise in this moment. He stands next to Bai Jin, tilting his head to look at you, with that slacker smile still hanging on his lips. But his right hand has let go of the sword hilt. Not relaxing—he's changed his grip. His fingers are loosely curled, ready to clench tight at any second. Four pairs of eyes. Four directions. Four sets of pupils narrowed into slits, belonging to different animals. All fixed on you. The wind stops for a moment. That broken wire sways gently in mid-air, making a very faint metallic scraping sound. You've been discovered.