Chapter 19
Chapter 19
They left the carousel zone still broken-down but no longer watched, and now Yun Xi and Milu stood before the maw of the Ghost-Train Tunnel. The entrance loomed like a dormant titan’s open gullet; bottomless darkness exhaled from it, colder and thicker than anything they’d felt in the carousel. Their flashlights clawed forward yet managed only a few metres before the ink-black swallowed every lumen.
The air was wet-ice against skin, thick with rust, mildew, and a stomach-turning stink of old blood mixed with mould. Worse, the dark kept sobbing—ragged fragments of wails stretched into far-off shrieks that stabbed the nerves like frozen needles.
“U-uh... S-Senior Yun Xi... it’s... scary...” Milu’s voice juddered; her slight frame glued itself to Yun Xi. The green spark at her staff-tip looked pathetic, barely lighting the circle of floor around her shoes—darkness ready to snuff it any second.
Cold climbed Yun Xi’s spine; the psychic sludge felt like breathing through glue. “Steady, Xiao Milu. Remember your guardian light? Totally epic!” She crushed her own panic, fingers tightening round the Eternal Dream: Prime Abyss bracelet—its coolness the only anchor she had. “Stick close.”
They stepped inside.
Instantly, clammy breath wrapped them as if they’d walked into some colossal throat. Beneath the torch beams, warped rust-eaten tracks resembled broken ribs; walls sweated slime, dark water-stains, and living bruise-like shadows that slowly pulsed. Far ahead, silhouettes of Shadowmares writhed, malice squeezing the air.
Twisted, once-human shadows clung to ceiling and walls—condensed terror of long-dead tourists—mute yet glaring. Semi-transparent slugs the size of sofas oozed across rails, dripping acidic black that hissed against the ties. They were immune to mind-strikes but radiated corrosive filth.
Every footfall rang loud, warped by echoing sobs into a ceaseless whisper designed to unmake reason.
“Milu—guardian light, full radius, now!” Yun Xi barked, sensing the girl’s glow worked best in this psychic sewer.
“Y-yes!” Milu bit her lip hard, forced the terror down. Crystal at the staff’s head ignited; a dome of silver-white washed outward, three metres across, sealing them inside.
BZZZ—!
The instant the shell formed it was like cold water on a fryer. Wall-crawling fear-shapes shrieked soundlessly, recoiling into darker cracks; wisps of purged black smoked off the edge. Inside, the gluey dread and the needling wails throttled back—lungs worked again.
“It works—brilliant, Milu!” Yun Xi felt adrenaline spike. “Hold it! Dian, prioritise the snot-slugs!”
“On it!” The indigo sphere blazed brighter, zipping round the dome’s curve, spitting Purification Bolts. Hit slugs sizzled, slowed, left smoking trails; under the guardian aura Dian’s kill-rate doubled.
Yun Xi joined in, slicing nodes—rust-pimples on the wall, warped bolts—then letting Dian finish the pinned horrors. They became a tiny spear of light hacking down the tunnel.
But depth swallowed distance; Shadowmares surged thicker, stronger. Milu’s face went paper-white, sweat beading; the shield wavered, shrinking. Dian’s shots slowed, flame dimming.
“Senior... I... can’t...” Milu’s whisper was almost out.
“Thirty more seconds—core’s dead ahead!” Yun Xi’s own skull rang; channeling Time Stardust this often was crushing.
Then—
A tsunami of hate erupted at the far end, louder than any single monster. A thousand layered screams hammered the air, solidifying into a psychic warhead.
BOOM—!!
Milu’s dome took the blow like a sledge on glass—shrinking to skin-tight. She spat blood, staff-light guttering.
“Xiao Milu!” Yun Xi’s heart cracked.
The backlash slammed her mind—
BZZ—!
—and flipped her into an ultra-mortifying illusion: she stood on the company New-Year stage, spotlights blazing, wearing Meng Yun Xi’s mortifying pink Lolita dress (lace, ribbons, the lot). Every ex-colleague, boss, even the pancake-granny downstairs filled the seats—while her phone, wired to the PA, belted her off-key “Love Circulation” at stadium volume. Wei Wu sat front-row, waving a glow-stick that flashed “Fly, little Yun Xi!” and staring like she’d been body-snatched.
“TURN IT OFF—!!” she screamed inside the hallucination.
IRL Yun Xi froze, pupils blown, cheeks scorched with shame; the bracelet’s glow flickered crazily.
“SENIOR!!” Milu shrieked. Ahead, the culprit—an apartment-block-sized Wailing Aggregate stitched from screams, shadows and sludge—lurched toward them. A dozen acid tentacles rose, ready to dissolve the intruders.
Milu’s shield was dying; her mind riverbed-dry. Yet one thought eclipsed terror: Senior Yun Xi must not fall.
“DON’T—YOU—DARE—HURT—HER!!” A scream tore Milu’s throat. Ignoring limits, she rammed every drop of love, need and homesickness down the oak staff.
BZZT——!!
The crystal went super-nova, birthing a solid wall of star-forged silver between Yun Xi and doom.
CRASH—!!
Tentacles and psychic wave smashed the barrier; spider-cracks webbed instantly. Blood streamed from Milu’s nose, her tiny frame shaking like a leaf, but she clenched through split lips and held. Vein-shot eyes blazed defiance.
The impact and that raw, love-soaked shriek cracked Yun Xi’s nightmare like glass.
She snapped back to find Milu’s battered silhouette standing between her and apocalypse.
“Milu!” Her heart almost stopped.
Inside her sea of mind, Meng Yun Xi’s voice rang clear:
“See them, Yun Xi? Shadowmares aren’t alive—they’re slag: leftover feelings and broken rules mashed together. Carousel joy, tunnel terror—same recipe. They’re ghosts refusing to die. To kill the core you don’t pulverise—you soothe. Find the key that calms the boiling emotion. Dilute the ink with clean water.”
“This one’s heart is a Fear Vortex of screaming shards. Use your power—comfort it. Give the terror a moment’s peace. That’s the opening.”
“Comfort... fear?” Yun Xi stared at the whirlpool of mouths. Impossible—yet Milu’s blood said there was no plan B.
“Yue Fei! Dian! Cover Milu—buy me seconds!” she rasped.
“Affirmative.” A tougher mind-barrier layered the cracked wall while Dian blazed like a mad comet, blasting tentacles back.
Yun Xi shut her eyes, hunting the calm she used to gentle her inner space-time dragon. She dipped into the bracelet’s river of hours, fishing not for stardust weapons but for the ancient hush between ticks of the cosmos. Silver-blue light pooled into a soft current, seeped through Milu’s barrier and Dian’s shield—harmless to friends—and slid straight into the Aggregate’s screaming core.
Humm...
The vortex froze—shards of fear trapped in amber. The monster’s mountainous body locked mid-lunge, tentacles drooping.
“NOW! DIAN—CORE—MAX OUTPUT!!”
A draconic roar answered. Dian compressed to a needle of indigo hate, lanced the stalled vortex.
Pop—
No titanic boom, just a bubble bursting. The colossus imploded, black sludge boiling off into harmless smoke. Within seconds the tunnel breathed free.
Milu’s wall winked out; she folded like cloth. Yun Xi dropped to her knees, cradling the girl.
“Xiao Milu—talk to me!” She wiped silver hair from a blood-streaked cheek.
Milu’s eyelids fluttered. “I... protected... you...” A tiny smile, then she was out.
Yun Xi swallowed the hot ache in her throat and hoisted Milu onto her back. “Sleep. You’ve done enough—leave the rest to me.”
Top of the Ferris wheel. Night wind howled a hundred metres up; city lights glittered like scattered galaxies.
Using the bracelet’s spatial nudge Yun Xi forced the rust-sealed hatch, carried Milu into the summit cabin.
A translucent cocoon—three storeys tall—pulsed on its axis. Across its skin, memories played on fast-forward: sparkling opening day, lovers kissing beneath neon wheels, children laughing... every scene greyed, stretched, dumped into the same ruin—rust, weeds, silence. The Cocoon of Termination: grief solidified.
She laid Milu gently in a corner, stepped alone toward the shadow egg, closed her eyes. Carousel joy, tunnel fear, Milu’s bleeding defiance—threads of the same story. She understood: this wasn’t an enemy; it was the world’s last sigh.
“Ancestor... I think I get it now,” she whispered.
She laid both hands on the bracelet. No blade, no lullaby—just farewell. Time was a river that carried away both laughter and pain; stars died to feed new worlds. From her palms flowed moon-silver mist, a tide of quiet good-bye.
The membrane drank it in. Grey images rewound: weeds un-grew, paint freshened, music returned—ending at the moment the gates first opened, bright with tomorrow. That single frame dissolved into motes of light, drifting off the night wind. One by one every memory unknit, the cocoon thinning to gossamer until, with a sigh, it turned to star-dust and vanished.
Weight lifted. Only empty cabin and distant city glow remained.
Yun Xi exhaled, legs suddenly jelly. She sat beside Milu. The girl woke soon after, lashes fluttering.
“Senior... did we win?”
“We won.” Yun Xi fished two squashed chocolates from her pocket—Wei Wu’s infamous “Physical Placebo” rations. “Here, sugar recharge.”
Milu studied the lumpy bar, then Yun Xi’s tired smile. Her own grin spread, star-bright. “So sweet! And... you’re amazing. Milu loves you most!”
Yun Xi ruffled the silver fluff. “And you’re braver than anyone. Partners from here on, okay?”
“Partners!” Milu echoed, eyes sparkling.
Later, city lights strobed the car windows as they rode home. Milu slept on Yun Xi’s shoulder, chocolate on her cheek. A CAMCC drone had met them, scanned the site, declared contamination zero, praised efficiency, promised consultant fees within 24 h and an “outstanding” practicum grade for Milu.
Inside her mind Yun Xi heard Meng Yun Xi’s lazy drawl, laced with approval:
“Not bad, little ancestor. You’re starting to look like me.”
“Huuu~ zzz... Huh? All over?” A sleepy yawn still echoed in her mind. “So, how’d it feel, adorable ‘me’? (.-`ω´-)”
“Those ‘leftovers of the timeline’—now you see they’re not just filth, right?” The thought brushed Yun Xi’s exhausted heart like a downy feather. “Understand where they come from and why they linger, and you can... guide them home. Joy needs the knot to loosen, terror needs a moment of calm, and the grief of endings needs a gentle goodbye... That’s the cadence of ‘time,’ the rhythm baked into ‘existence’ itself.”
“Today’s field test...” The voice stretched, smug. “I’ll give you... a passing grade! (●ˇ∀ˇ●) At least you didn’t lose that little Purification-aura pendant—Milu—and you even earned milk-tea money. Not bad, not bad~ Keep it up! zzz......” The presence powered down, slipping back into standby hibernation.
Yun Xi felt the cool smoothness of Eternal Dream: Prime Abyss against her wrist, listened to Milu’s steady breathing beside her, and stared out at the steel forest of a city—glittering, roaring, hiding endless unknowns. Fatigue rolled over her in waves, yet beneath it lay a clarity she’d never known: full, calm, almost bright.
A gut-level grasp of the Shadowmare’s nature, her first real grip on the delicate reins of space-time, and the battle-forged bond with Xiao Milu—comrades, shoulder to shoulder. This trip into the echoing ruins of Xinghui Amusement Park had already repaid itself far beyond whatever consultant fee was about to hit her account.
Still—the fee mattered. A lot. A whole lot.
“Yue Fei,” she called inside her head, absolute. “The second we’re home, find me a still-open bubble-tea shop. Large! Full sugar! Double boba! Three cups!” She paused, softening. “...One for Xiao Milu. She was... MVP today.”
A graceful silhouette flickered into view over her left shoulder, amethyst eyes cutting sideways. The venomous tongue auto-activated: “Foolish master, after massive psychic and mana depletion your first thought is liquid sugar and empty calories? Your weight, your circuit stability—”
“Yue Fei!” Yun Xi cut in, voice steel. “Order. And... victory party. For the starlight we won, for the comrade who stood with me, for... next month’s rent!” Reasoned, final, non-negotiable.
Yue Fei: “...Hmph.” The shadow vanished, already hunting for shops.
Yun Xi sagged back against the seat, eyes shut, smile small but real. Over her other shoulder, Xing Dian’s indigo orb bounced twice, sparks dancing—quietly cheering for sweet, sweet milk tea.
The echo of Xinghui Amusement Park had scattered into the night wind, but their story—and those three cups of full-sugar, double-boba triumph—had only just begun.