The subway tunnel reeked of damp concrete and rust, the air so cold it made Rui's teeth chatter. She clung to the strap of her bag, where the two Yin-Yang Pivot Shards hummed faintly—now synced, their glow a pale gold that cast long shadows on the tunnel walls. Mike's team had cordoned off the F-Line entrance at Central Park, but the deeper they walked, the more the world felt unmoored—like the tunnel itself was a veil between the living and the spirit world.
"This is it," Ye said, stopping at a split in the tracks. His peachwood sword was fully lit now, its blade cutting through the darkness like a torch. "The old line—abandoned in the 1940s after a derailment. 37 people died. No bodies were ever found."
Dao Feng's breath hitched. He pulled out Master Qingyunzi's notebook, flipping to a dog-eared page filled with his own scribbled notes. "Ten years ago," he said, his voice tight. "I was in the Yin Nest. I met a man—Zhang Wei, a subway worker. He said he'd seen a 'train that shouldn't be there'—one with broken windows, passengers frozen in place. I thought he was crazy. Now…" He trailed off, staring at the tracks. "He was talking about this train. About them."
Rui's Guan Yin pendant burned against her chest. She closed her eyes, letting her Yin Sight wash over her. The tunnel blurred, and suddenly she saw it: a rusted subway car, its windows cracked, its exterior covered in black mold. Inside, passengers sat rigid—their faces pale, their eyes empty—except for one man. Zhang Wei, the subway worker, his hands pressed against the window, mouthing a single word: Help.
"The train's coming," she said, opening her eyes. Her hands shook as she pulled out her oak rune chips, rubbing cinnabar on their edges like Lao Guo had taught her. "It's not just a ghost. It's a prison. Zhou Xuan's using a Yin curse to keep the passengers trapped—feeding their fear to the Pivot."
A distant rumble echoed through the tunnel. The tracks vibrated, and a cold wind rushed past, carrying the sound of a train whistle—high, mournful, like a cry for help. Ye stepped in front of Rui, his sword raised, while Dao Feng gripped the Xuanqing Whisk, its silver bristles flaring.
The train emerged from the darkness, its headlights dim and flickering. It was exactly as Rui had seen it: rusted, broken, its windows fogged. But as it slowed to a stop, the fog cleared—and Rui's breath caught.
In the front car, pressed against the window, was a woman with blue-enameled earrings. Her mother.
"Mom!" Rui yelled, lunging toward the tracks. Ye grabbed her arm, pulling her back just as the train's wheels screeched to a halt.
"Wait," he said, his voice urgent. "It's a trap. The train's a projection—Zhou Xuan wants you to touch it. To get pulled in."
The train's doors slid open with a hydraulic hiss. A voice echoed through the tunnel—smooth, cold, unmistakably Zhou Xuan's. "Rui Lengyu. I've been waiting. Bring the shards. Free your mother. Or the passengers stay here… forever."
Zhang Wei stumbled out of the train, his body translucent, his face twisted with fear. "He's lying," he gasped. "The curse—once you step on the train, you can't get off. He's using your mom to lure you. To take the shards."
Dao Feng stepped forward, the Xuanqing Whisk glowing brighter. "We're not letting you stay trapped. Zhang Wei—ten years ago, I'm sorry I didn't believe you. Now I'm making it right." He began to chant, a Taoist prayer that filled the tunnel with silver light. "Ye, Rui—we need to break the curse. The train's heart is in the engine. Destroy it, and the passengers will be free."
The train lurched forward, its wheels grinding against the tracks. Zhou Xuan's laugh echoed again. "Foolish Dao Feng. You think a prayer will save them? The curse is tied to the Pivot. To her." A spotlight flickered on, illuminating Rui's mother, now tied to a metal pole in the engine car. "Bring the shards to the engine. Or she dies."
Rui's hands tightened around the shards. They pulsed faster, as if begging her to run—but she couldn't. Not when her mother was staring at her, her eyes wide with love, mouthing Don't do it.
"I have a plan," she said, turning to Ye. She pulled out the blue-enameled earring, pressing it into his hand. "My mom's energy is in this. Use it to distract Zhou Xuan. Dao Feng—you keep the train from moving. I'll get to the engine. Destroy the curse."
Ye nodded, tucking the earring into his pocket. He raised his peachwood sword, drawing a Sowilo rune on the blade with his thumb. "Be careful. If you need help, yell. I'll find you."
Dao Feng began to chant louder, the Xuanqing Whisk sending waves of silver light toward the train. The wheels froze, and the train screeched, its metal frame groaning. "Go!" he yelled. "Hurry!"
Rui ran toward the train, her rune chips clutched in her hand. She jumped onto the first car, the floor cold and unstable, and ducked as a burst of black smoke shot toward her—Zhou Xuan's doing. She threw a rune chip, and it exploded in blue light, dispersing the smoke.
The passengers stared at her, their eyes empty, but as she passed, one of them—an old woman with gray hair—reached out, her hand translucent. "Thank you," she whispered. "We've been waiting so long."
The engine car was at the end of the train, its door locked. Rui pulled out a small picklock—something Ye had taught her—and jimmied the lock. It clicked open, and she stepped inside.
Zhou Xuan stood there, holding a third Pivot Shard, his face twisted with greed. Rui's mother was tied to the pole, her head hanging, but she lifted it when she saw Rui, her eyes filling with tears.
"Rui," she said, her voice weak. "Don't give him the shards. He'll destroy everything."
Zhou Xuan laughed, stepping forward. "Foolish girl. You think you can stop me? With the three shards, I can open the Pivot. Control the spirit world. And your mother—she's just a pawn. A way to get what I want."
Rui's Guan Yin pendant burned. She pulled out the two shards, holding them up. "You want these? Come and get them."
Zhou Xuan lunged, but Rui dodged, throwing a rune chip at the engine's control panel. It exploded, and the train's lights flickered. Her mother struggled against the ropes, and Rui saw her hand brush a small metal box—hidden under the control panel.
"The box!" her mother yelled. "It's the curse's core! Destroy it!"
Rui ran toward the box, but Zhou Xuan grabbed her arm, his fingers cold as ice. "Give me the shards!" he snarled.
The earring in Ye's pocket began to glow. Through the window, Rui saw Ye running toward the engine, his sword raised, the earring held high. Zhou Xuan's attention flickered, and Rui took her chance—she slammed her elbow into his ribs, grabbed the box, and pulled out a cinnabar-lined knife (stolen from Lao Guo's parlor that morning).
She sliced the box open. Inside was a small, black stone— the curse's core, pulsing with Yin energy. She threw it on the floor, stomping on it. It shattered, and the train lurched, its metal frame beginning to dissolve.
Zhou Xuan screamed, dropping the third shard. It clattered to the floor, rolling toward Rui. She grabbed it, and the three shards began to glow—bright enough to blind her.
"The Pivot," Zhou Xuan gasped, staring at the shards. "It's waking up."
Ye burst into the engine car, cutting Rui's mother's ropes with his sword. "We need to go! The train's dissolving!"
Rui's mother pulled her into a hug, her arms warm and familiar. "I'm so sorry," she said, tears streaming down her face. "I tried to stop him. I stole the shard, but he found me. He's been using me to find you."
The train began to fade, its passengers appearing as glowing orbs—free at last. Zhang Wei smiled at Dao Feng, giving him a small wave before vanishing. Zhou Xuan stared at the shards, his face filled with rage, but as the train dissolved, he was pulled into the darkness—gone, for now.
They ran out of the tunnel, the three shards clutched in Rui's hand. Mike's team was waiting, their faces relieved, and Lao Guo stood among them, holding a thermos of hot soup.
"You did it," Lao Guo said, handing Rui a cup. "The passengers—they're free. And you got the third shard."
Rui smiled, hugging her mother tight. For the first time in ten years, she felt whole. But as she looked at the three shards, their glow fading, she knew it wasn't over. Zhou Xuan was still out there. And there were two more shards to find.
Ye put his arm around her, his hand warm on her shoulder. "We'll find them. Together."
Dao Feng nodded, his notebook open to a new page. "Master said the fourth shard is in Chinatown—at the antique shop we raided. Xuanqing Pavilion. Zhou Xuan hid it there, in a fake jade statue."
Rui's mother squeezed her hand, her eyes soft. "I'll help. I know Zhou Xuan's tricks. He thinks he's clever, but he's predictable."
As they walked out of the subway station, the sun was high in the sky, casting warm light over Central Park. The passengers' glowing orbs drifted toward the park, free at last, and Zhang Wei's orb paused to wave at Dao Feng— a silent thank-you.
Rui looked at the three shards in her hand, then at her mother, Ye, and Dao Feng. They were one step closer to stopping Zhou Xuan. One step closer to sealing the Pivot.
But somewhere in the shadows, a figure watched— a woman in a black cloak, her face hidden by a hood. She touched a small, silver shard in her pocket, smiling.
"Two more," she whispered. "Then the Pivot will be mine."
Rui's Guan Yin pendant burned. She looked up, scanning the crowd, but the figure was gone.
The hunt wasn't over.
But this time, she wasn't alone.