The silence of the Ghost World wasn't just the absence of sound. It was as if she was pressing on the eardrums, forcing the heart to beat unevenly, in an attempt to fill the void with her rhythm. After the failure with direct creation and the first, uncertain success with "repair," Leng Wei and his companions stood in front of the distorted metal spire like students facing an unsolvable task.
—So, the needle," Han grumbled, looking skeptically at the structure, which bent at an incredible angle, resembling agony frozen in metal. — And how are we going to "sew" with this needle? I have a couple of good blades, but I doubt they'll help.
"It's not about a physical instrument, you idiot," Jin retorted coldly, although there was the same tension in his eyes as everyone else. — It's about the will. About the targeted use of force. Leng Wei cannot create a new spire. But he can... convince this steeple that it is straight.
"He's right," Ling Mei said softly, moving closer to the spire but not touching it. — That's how... to see the essence of a thing under a layer of dirt. And wipe away this dirt.
Leng Wei nodded, still feeling tired after the first attempt. Creating a part of his room took a lot out of him, and losing it caused pain in his soul. However, it is a targeted intervention... it was different. More elegant and less expensive. It was as if he wasn't ramming the wall, but was looking for a secret latch.
He focused on the spire again. Instead of trying to straighten it by force of will, he tried to remember what the metal should be like. His coolness, hardness, and natural craving for certain shapes under pressure. He presented not a straight line, but the very principle of straightness, the idea of structural integrity.
At first, nothing happened. Then, with a soft, groaning creak, the top of the spire twitched slightly. Just a centimeter, but the bending angle has become a little less impossible.
— It's working! Lin Mei exclaimed hopefully.
However, the joy was short-lived. Gray translucent spots began to fall from the crimson sky like raindrops. They landed on the black glass soundlessly, spreading out into pools of indifferent, devouring Emptiness. One of these spots fell near the base of the spire.
The distorted metal in the place of contact with the gray sludge began to "cry" again, bending with a new, even more unnatural zeal. Leng Wei's efforts were nullified.
"They're everywhere,— Xiao Fei whispered, shrinking into a ball. "They're like white blood cells... and we are an infection. They feel the healing and try to stop it.
—So we need to work faster," Leng Wei said through clenched teeth, feeling cold sweat break out on his forehead. — And not alone.
He looked at his friends.
— Did you feel what I was doing? Not force, but... intention.
Jin nodded, his face focused.
—Vaguely. Like an echo.
— Try it. Don't help me with this steeple. Choose something of your own. A small one. Stone. A crack in the glass. Simply... imagine it as a whole. Don't recreate it, but remember how it should be.
Lin Mei was the first to respond. Her gaze fell on a small piece of black glass at her feet. She closed her eyes, and an expression of deep concentration appeared on her face. The shard trembled. Its sharp, unnatural edges became a little more smoothed for a moment, like an ordinary stone.
Han frowned and stared at the crack in the "ground" in front of him. Nothing was happening, and his face was flushed with tension.
—Damn it! I can't do it! My brain is not for this delicate job!
"Not with your brain, Han," Leng Wei said, without taking his eyes off the steeple. "With my heart." Remember something... simple. Solid. Motionless. The rock you sat on as a child. The hilt of his first sword.
Khan froze. His gaze became distant. And then the crack is in front of him... It didn't disappear, but its edges stopped spreading. She's frozen, stabilized.
Jin watched the distorted reflection in the pool of Emptiness without saying a word. He didn't try to remove it. I just imagined how the light should fall at a certain angle, creating a clear shadow. And the gray film receded for a moment, revealing a clear, dark glass.
They didn't create the world anew. Step by step, they restored him to his original appearance. And it worked. Slowly, painfully, but it worked.
Suddenly, Xiao Fei, who had only been watching, raised her head. Her eyes were filled with terror.
"They are.".. They're changing tactics. They realized that we are not brute force. They're sending... Echo," she said.
Figures began to appear from the crimson haze in the distance. Not shapeless shadows, but recognizable silhouettes.
Khan saw his dead comrades from the Gorge of Mourners. They came at him, not reproachfully, but with empty, indifferent faces, holding out their hands.
Ling Mei saw her father, but his face was distorted with cold disdain. "You don't belong here with these scum. You're a disgrace to our family," he said.
Jin remembered his first mentor, who relentlessly repeated: "Emotions are a weakness. You will never surpass me because you let them control you."
These creatures were not ghosts. They represented the embodied doubts and fears that the Void had extracted from their own minds and put into tangible form. They didn't physically attack, but they undermined their very will and right to change this world.
Leng Wei noticed that the concentration of his companions had begun to weaken. Ling Mei's shard sharpened again, and the crack in front of Han began to widen.
"Don't listen to them! — he exclaimed, feeling his own spire begin to bend with renewed vigor. — This is an illusion! The void is afraid! He's afraid we're changing the rules!
But his voice was drowned out by the growing hum that the Echoes made. They were closing in, their silent pressure threatening to destroy the fragile progress they had worked so hard to make.
Leng Wei realized that now the battle was not for the outside world, but for the inner world of each of them. He wasn't sure if they had the strength to keep the peace and protect their souls at the same time.