CHAPTER 04

  A SINCERE GIFT

  SOURCE: FLUIX_CITY_RELAY_9

  Xu woke to a Pitquake.

  Why did they put this thing so close to my bed? Did they not hear how loud this damn thing is?

  Maybe the movers didn’t survive the trip, and someone else finished it?

  He glanced down. The eye on his leg blinked. He stared up at his new ceiling. The eye stared up at its new father.

  I miss my old ceiling…

  and my old leg.

  New dorm. New bed. Same inexplicable smell drifting through the air—poverty.

  A purple glare caught in his peripheral vision.

  Hm?

  Xu pushed himself upright.

  On the small desk in the corner, sat a black box he’d owned for three months without thinking much about—or at least, he pretended not to.

  It was the only thing his dad had left him.

  Sometimes he’d keep it at the bottom of his bag, buried under spare uniforms, broken equipment, and everything else he didn’t want to look at—but he still brought it.

  He always knew exactly where it was.

  He had never opened it.

  He’d never once been ready to.

  Xu reached over and turned the box slowly in his hands. Faint light leaked from the seam.

  Xu sighed. His chest tightened.

  Dad… I should—

  I can’t keep acting like he isn’t… gone…

  …

  He began to slowly crack the box.

  A sharp, alien purple bled into the walls. The rest of the room seemed to fall away.

  He slowly reached forward, his mouth hanging open slightly.

  What…

  Is this?

  A purple crystal sat on its gold throne. Red velvet hugged the inside floor of the box with white silk lining its top.

  He slowly removed it from its—

  Time coagulated.

  The Pit went silent. The air stagnated as if locked into a permanent thaw.

  Xu held very still.

  Something’s…

  …

  Doom seeped up the back of his skull like a whisper.

  Xu’s chest tightened further. His eyes flickered.

  The pill sat out.

  It stared.

  When did—?

  The spear’s head had also motionlessly emerged at some point from under the bed. An eyeless twisting spire of iron—

  watching.

  Silence compressed, the way a scream suffocates in outer space, leaving only a thin, constant ring.

  His eyes shot to the right. The edges of his vision contracted and bent. Reality seemed to zoom out.

  The vase’s lid hovered, held up by a tangled mass of items that had unknowingly assembled.

  They watched.

  …

  They all watched.

  An inch behind my neck…

  …

  There’s—

  Rattle.

  The door.

  Xu did the only reasonable thing he could think of and unreasonably threw the crystal into the Pit.

  Everything snapped back almost instantly.

  The Pit slammed shut and resumed its steady vibration. The pill vanished. The spear withdrew.

  Somewhere in the building, a pipe knocked, and the familiar background hum seeped back into the world like he had taken out a set of earplugs.

  Xu opened the door.

  Vance stepped inside without asking. Deep-set shadows pooled under his eyes.

  Even if he didn’t sleep, it shouldn’t be that bad…

  "Xu." He started.

  "I owe you an apology."

  Xu shifted.

  He looks genuinely torn.

  "That accusation this morning... The way I spoke to you." Vance rubbed a heavy, calloused hand over his face.

  “That… wasn’t the conduct of an instructor. You didn’t cheat. You’ve never cheated. I knew it before I even said it, and I said it anyway because I couldn’t process what that could mean... and... that doesn’t change my responsibility."

  He exhaled, a long, rattling breath. "I’m sorry."

  …

  “It’s… fine,” Xu said eventually.

  Vance’s shoulders loosened slightly, like the apology had cost him something personal.

  “I don’t really know what to say, but for what it’s worth…” Xu shrugged faintly.

  “I wouldn’t have picked any other instructor.”

  A small, bone-tired smile crossed Vance’s face.

  "Xu, I really appreciate that." He nodded once, his professionalism somewhat returning, and turned toward the door.

  His hand hit the knob.

  But his knuckles had turned white against the metal.

  He stopped.

  …

  "Um—something else I can help with…?"

  Vance didn't turn around right away. When he did, the drill instructor he knew was gone. He just looked like a frail, aging man staring through him.

  "Everyone has their secrets, so… I’m not asking you to gut yours... but... how did you do it?"

  “I don’t kno—”

  "Eight years." Vance cut him off, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.

  "I’ve been stuck at the eighth stage of Zero for eight years. I watch kids like Taylor and Lee, and now—even you, walk in and match my life's work in just… months.” His voice broke. “I watch you kids step off your starting lines… but none of you… None of you knows that it… That… was my finish line."

  He choked for a moment.

  "I didn't start as a teacher, Xu. I wanted to chase the peak too. I sacrificed everything I was to just get a little further. I hoarded resources, I looked the other way when the Sect chewed up good people, I… I… stepped on others’ necks... JUST for a CHANCE to step into something greater, only to find that I was never even on the guest list..."

  Vance’s face tensed, a mix of grief and profound exhaustion.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Xu asked hesitantly.

  “Because… I see myself in you. And I can’t… I can’t watch myself not chase that dream in a world where I had a real chance. Xu, you have a real chance.”

  He pointed a trembling finger at Xu. "So please… Don't… waste this, Xu," his voice cracked, the gravelly edge breaking entirely.

  "Whatever freak accident or hidden legacy you stumbled into... for the love of god—just... don't be me." A few tears slipped from the corners of his eyes before he turned away.

  He left as quietly as he’d come.

  Xu stood there for a moment after the door clicked shut.

  I had no idea Vance carried all of that... If I knew, I’d tell him. I just…

  The Pit vibrated behind him.

  Wait I… Why, why, why did I put the crystal there?

  He shuffled over and looked down.

  Wha—

  The bedsheets were wound tight around the lid, every fold disappearing into the opening like they’d been fed through a hungry mouth.

  Here goes.

  It didn’t lift.

  He pulled harder.

  It felt like the lid was being held from the inside by dozens of tiny, stubborn hands.

  “I—“ Xu inhaled slowly, dropping his forehead against the cold vase.

  They used my own sheets against me.

  He sat back and thought deeply about how he had ended up in this moment.

  “Okay,” he said at last.

  “You know what? Let’s talk.”

  He rummaged through his desk and pulled out a cloth bundle of Spirit Stones. He tried to slide one into the gap.

  It didn’t budge.

  Huh.

  …

  I wonder.

  Knock. Knock.

  Xu’s eyebrows were high with expectation.

  Nothing.

  Figures.

  He set the stones aside and scanned the room for something to pry with.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Krrrrr.

  The lid creaked open and through the seam—

  THE PILL.

  “I should have known… you…”

  He stepped forward.

  Clunk.

  The lid snapped shut.

  MAYBE I SHOULD JUST BURN THIS ENTIRE COMPLEX TO THE FLOOR JUST TO TAKE YOU WITH ME.

  Xu controlled his breath.

  Patience.

  He waited.

  Then stepped back.

  Krrrr.

  A rope flew out—or rather, a rope-like collection of items adorned with the purple crystal.

  The rope landed on the Spirit Stones. They were tugged forward slightly as it retracted into the vase…

  Oh, so money talks now, does it?

  Then, one of the spirit stones moved by itself and walked the rest into the vase.

  NOW!? THE TIMING COULD NOT BE WORSE.

  He brought a mid-grade cultivation pill. Not one of his good ones, but respectable—for Xu.

  This phrase applied to everything he owned.

  Knock. Knock.

  Nothing. Then a faint shuffle. Silence.

  He brought a bundle of Spirit Herbs, the kind that would’ve cost two weeks of cultivator-in-training income—at least it would have—if they paid him.

  Shuffling. Quiet consideration. Then stillness.

  He pressed his ear to the side of the Pit.

  Hummmummmummmm.

  Light seeped through the ring around the lid.

  A breakthrough?

  That’s definitely a breakthrough glow.

  The pill… is having a breakthrough.

  …

  Using my materials.

  …

  Xu stood very, very slowly.

  He looked at the Pit.

  He took a moment to consider everything in his life that had somehow led to the bliss of this instant—the test, the eye, the strip search, Vance’s apology, one hour of sleep.

  And promptly began to beat the living hell out of the Pit.

  Clink.

  The spear, who had been watching all of this from under the bed, recoiled.

  Xu didn’t notice at first. He was very focused on making everything in the pit regret not being born with arms.

  The spear pressed itself against the wall, iron tip tucked inward.

  It wasn’t aggressive.

  It wasn’t spiteful.

  It was frightened.

  Of him.

  Xu finally clocked it, retreating further beneath the bed.

  “Wait,” he said quickly.

  He stood up.

  “No—hey. I wasn’t— I’m not… this isn’t about you.”

  The spear did not appear reassured.

  “The Pit!” Xu said helplessly, gesturing vaguely.

  “I mean, you know what the Pit is like. You live with the Pit. You get it, right…?”

  The spear coiled tighter.

  Xu’s stomach dropped.

  Why do I feel so—?

  He gasped.

  “Me? I wouldn’t. I would never—”

  The Pit couldn’t take it.

  Objects poured out with the force of a coordinated assault. For a brief instant, Xu was overwhelmed from nearly every direction, mostly by things he once recognized as his own belongings.

  They all retreated, successfully dragging away the spear from its potential abuser and leaving the crystal by his feet as if they had paid the price for peace.

  “Me…?” He whispered incredulously.

  The lid shut. The sheet slid back into place.

  Silence.

  Xu stared down at the crystal. Then at the Pit. Then at the space where the spear had been.

  He remembered the way it had pressed itself into the corner.

  They’re just items…

  He stood there, trying to make that feel true.

  It didn’t.

  Hmmm.

  He went back to the Pit and sat down in front of it on the cold floor.

  Hmmmmmmmm.

  No. I’m not doing it.

  Vance’s face flashed through his mind.

  Xu’s face started to soften.

  …

  “I scared it,” he said quietly.

  “That wasn’t cool.”

  His eyes were locked onto the floor.

  “I scared the spear. It didn’t do anything wrong, and I scared it anyway, and that was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry...”

  The Pit was quiet.

  “I know you’re not—I don’t totally know if you can understand me, but... I mean, I know your things. I… know that’s what you are, but…” He paused.

  “But you guys are a part of my life too. It’s chaotic. Messy. And honestly… overwhelming. And you—I shouldn’t have… ever treated you like that. Genuinely.”

  Silence.

  “The spear deserved better. You all did. You didn’t ask to be what you are… and… I didn’t ask to make you what I think I did… and… none of this is anyone’s fault except mine. And I handled it badly.”

  He meant every word.

  …

  “You.”

  A voice arrived in his head without warning.

  “Others perform sincerity like a weapon, wear it like masks, and trade it like currency—you gave it freely to things that could neither harm you nor reward you.”

  “That—is the deepest core of what I am.”

  “This is a gift, but also a responsibility. It will be you, or it will be no one.”

  A gold light bloomed in his chest, but it felt like something that had always been a part of him.

  Xu sat on the floor, purple crystal in hand, eye on his leg, Pit full of sentient objects—and thought with total conviction:

  Fuck.

  I’m pretty sure that was Source enlightenment. I’d really rather not become a dice…

  And I STILL don’t have my spear.

  …

  What remained of his spirit stones plopped out of the vase.

  Like an apology.

  He threw them against the wall.

  Xu was late to practice.

  For some unknown reason, he arrived without a weapon.

  “Where’s your spear?” Lee asked.

  Xu considered how to explain that his spear was captured by protective custody, and inside a sovereign pit state governed by household items following an international—likely universal-level incident.

  This requires careful management.

  “Couldn’t find it,” he said casually.

  FLASH

  A gold light flashed inside his chest.

  “I lost it—” he blurted, his eyes widening.

  FLASH

  It burned hot this time.

  “It was taken into my vase by a horde of living items.”

  WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?

  WHY WOULD I SAY THAT?

  Lee stared at him for a long moment.

  “Brother.”

  “I only got an hour of sleep,” Xu said defeatedly.

  FLASH

  “An hour and thirty-six minutes of sleep,” he blurted once more.

  Lee raised an eyebrow. “I guess that explains whatever the hell you just said to me—kind of.”

  …

  “Did something happen—“

  “Something happened,” Xu confirmed.

  Lee nodded slowly, with the manner of someone who had learned not to ask questions.

  “Uh huh… well—uh… need a weapon?”

  “I need several things,” said Xu.

  “A weapon is on the very, very long list.”

  The eye on his leg blinked under his robes where no one could see it.

  Xu closed his eyes tightly and sighed.

  It’s okay, today is the best day I’ve ever had.

  FLASH

  Today is a decent day.

  FLASH

  Today is dogshit.

  Local cultivator acquires Supreme Sincerity of the universe. Immediately uses it to accidentally confess that he got robbed by his own things, using only his own bedsheets.

  (Also, shoutout to Vance for dropping the most tragic, emotionally devastating backstory of his life, only for Xu to immediately turn around and get into a domestic dispute with a vase.)