Ji-hwan moved like shadow beneath the palace.
Past the guards. Past the sealed doors.
To a cell so deep, even the rats had forgotten it.
A woman sat hunched in chains inside.
Her eyes were milky with time. But when she looked up—
she smiled.
"Ah. So the little phoenix returns."
Ji-hwan didn't move. "Lady So-hwa. Or should I call you what you once were—Seoryeon's mouthpiece."
So-hwa laughed. It echoed, brittle as bone.
"She speaks still, boy. Through prophecy, through pain. Through you."
Ji-hwan moved closer.
"I remember what you did. How you poisoned the court. Turned her into something…"
He stumbled.
Something not human.
So-hwa leaned forward. "And you came to ask how to undo it. How to break the chain."
Ji-hwan remained silent.
But that silence—
was enough of an answer.
So-hwa licked her dry, cracked lips. "Then I'll give you the truth. But truths like this always demand blood."
She extended her hand. "Your hand, Ji-hwan. You carry the mark. The soul-thread. I can touch it."
Ji-hwan paused.
A memory seared behind his eyes—Seong-min dying, Seoryeon laughing, the smell of blood on winter snow.
Then, he reached out.
Her fingers closed around his palm—cold as death.
She spoke in a soft whisper:
"To destroy what holds you captive, you must incinerate that which gave you life."
And with that, a flood of visions—
A temple falling.
Seong-min in chains.
Ji-hwan shouting his name as flames engulfed the sky.
So-hwa laughed through everything.
"It starts again. And again. Until you pay the price."