Captain Heiman lay silent for nearly a full day. Not unconscious—his breathing was steady, pulse stable—but trapped somewhere between sleep and waking. A place of muted senses and distant echoes. The Silver Divide had done something subtle, invasive, and expertly controlled.
Jeng Minh stayed near the medical chamber for most of the night, seated with stillness sharper than steel. Bai Ye paced. Gao Ren prepared tonics and incense to flush lingering toxins. Yuan Shan guarded the door like a statue carved of mountain stone.
The Elite Guard lingered nearby, tense. If Heiman had been manipulated, twisted, or implanted with hidden commands… they needed to know.
Near dawn, Heiman's fingers twitched.
A moment later—his eyes opened.
Wide. Alert. Terrified.
"Captain," Bai Ye said gently, stepping forward. "You are safe. You're back in the fortress."
Heiman stared past him, pupils dilated, breath quickening.
"No…" he whispered. "No, we're not safe. None of us. You don't understand. They're—"
His voice broke into a wheeze as he tried to sit up. Yuan Shan moved to steady him, but Heiman recoiled instinctively, trembling.
Jeng Minh raised a hand.
"Everyone step back."
The room obeyed.
Only Jeng Minh approached the bedside—calm, measured, unthreatening.
"Heiman," he said quietly. "I am here. Focus on my voice."
The captain's frantic breathing slowed—barely—recognizing the command tone of Zhou Chen, the warlord… and the strategist behind the northern victory.
"Commander…" Heiman whispered. "They used mirrors. Not to confuse—but to enter. To read. To peel things away."
Bai Ye froze. Gao Ren's hand slipped to his dagger in instinctive fear.
Jeng Minh's gaze sharpened.
"What did they take?"
Heiman's hands trembled violently.
"They didn't take memories," he whispered. "They took emotions."
The room went cold.
"They stripped fear from me."
Heiman's voice cracked. "They didn't torture me. They studied me. I could hear their footsteps but couldn't turn my head. I wanted to scream, but the fear was… gone. Removed. Like scraping flesh from bone, but inside my mind."
He swallowed hard.
"They said fear was just one layer. They would take anger next. Then loyalty. Until nothing was left but obedience."
Yuan Shan's fists tightened. "Monsters…"
"No," Heiman whispered. "Not monsters. Scholars. They talked while they worked. Calmly. Precisely. Like dissecting a scroll."
Jeng Minh leaned forward.
"You said they stripped fear. Yet you fear now."
Heiman nodded rapidly.
"They gave it back. They wanted me to feel fear again—their fear. A fear shaped to a purpose."
Bai Ye's voice tightened. "What purpose?"
Heiman slowly raised his eyes, and the room felt as though the temperature dropped several degrees.
"To fear you, Commander."
Silence thickened the air.
Gao Ren whispered, "What?"
Heiman continued, voice trembling but clear.
"They said: 'Your commander is brilliant. Dangerous. But brilliance bends. We will fracture him through those closest to him. Those who trust him most will become the blade we use against him.'"
Bai Ye staggered back as if struck.
Jeng Minh remained still.
Unmoving. Unshaken.
The Silver Divide had declared their strategy:
Undermine Zhou Chen not by killing his men—but by poisoning their trust in him.
Heiman closed his eyes, pain etched into every line of his face.
"They didn't show me visions. They inserted… fragments."
He gripped the bedsheets tightly.
"Images of you standing with them. Of you giving silent orders. Of identical sigils carved into your armor. All illusions—false—but so vivid I almost believed them."
He looked up at Jeng Minh with broken confusion.
"I don't know what's real anymore, Commander. I don't know if I'm supposed to hate you. Or trust you. Or… or something else."
Bai Ye inhaled sharply. "Psychological inversion techniques. They've weaponized perception."
Gao Ren rubbed his temples. "Old Whispering Sect writings mention such methods… but they were banned, thought lost."
Yuan Shan growled, "We should destroy them all—every last one—before they do more harm."
Heiman flinched.
Jeng Minh spoke quietly, deliberately:
"Heiman. Look at me."
The captain obeyed, though his eyes flickered with confusion.
"You are not at fault," Jeng Minh said. "What you experienced was manipulation—an external force. The Silver Divide seeks to turn your suspicion into my weakness."
He took a step closer.
"And I will not allow any soldier of mine to break because of them."
Heiman's lips quivered.
"They said… if you oppose them, they will take more. Not men. They'll take minds. One by one. Until your army collapses from inside."
Jeng Minh's expression did not change.
"Then they have made one mistake."
Heiman blinked.
Jeng Minh's voice sharpened to a razor:
"They believe the mind is only something to be broken. I will show them it is something that cannot be predicted."
Bai Ye stepped forward. "Commander… what do we do now?"
Jeng Minh turned away from the bed and walked toward the map wall, each step filled with purposeful calm.
"We change the battlefield," he said.
"They fight in shadows and thoughts. So we fight them there."
Gao Ren frowned. "Meaning?"
Jeng Minh's eyes flickered with something cold and brilliant.
"We will draw them into a mental war. A place where they feel superior. A place where they believe they understand me."
He placed a hand on the western frontier of the map.
"And then," Jeng Minh whispered, "we show them a mind they cannot dissect."
Before anyone could respond, Heiman spoke again, voice soft but urgent.
"There's one more thing."
Everyone turned.
Heiman swallowed hard.
"They said they are not done with me."
Bai Ye's eyes widened.
"What do you mean?"
Heiman's voice cracked.
"They said: 'The first thread has been pulled. The second thread awakens soon. He will know when the dream begins.'"
A chill swept through the room.
Jeng Minh finally narrowed his eyes.
"A dream."
Heiman nodded shakily.
"They said they can reach us there."