Far from the glittering stadium above, deep within the city's skeletal remains, Solaris knelt amid the ruins of his shattered altar, a once-hallowed place now steeped in despair.

The chamber sat in oppressive silence, the only sound the slow, rhythmic drip of cursed ichor from his wounds, each drop an echo of his torment. His tattered cloak billowed around him like shadows, scorched remnants clinging desperately to his frame. His body shimmered erratically with chaotic qi — veins darkened like twisted roots, bones cracked and splintered, and his cultivation core lay fractured, glinting like shattered obsidian in the dim light.

The malevolent entity he had sought to summon had been repelled, and he was left with the bitter taste of failure.

His Ironsworns had faltered, their loyalty now a distant memory.

His carefully laid infiltration was exposed, his secrets laid bare.

Humiliation wrapped around him like a shroud, yet he stood firm, refusing to be undone.

Ragged breaths tore from his lips, each inhalation a dagger of pain. With trembling fingers, he pressed his palm against the cracked fireglass altar, whispering incantations in a tongue older than the stars, older than mercy. The altar responded with a feeble pulse — weak, like the last flickering beat of a dying heart — before it erupted into a sickly glow that illuminated the ruins with an eerie light.

Fragments of cursed qi slithered toward him like serpents — remnants of rituals gone awry, echoes of anguish, shards of forgotten souls. They clung to him with relentless desperation, festering parasites siphoning his broken essence.

With every agonizing moment, Solaris absorbed their twisted energy; his body convulsed as agonizing rapture twisted through him, his spine arching against the wrath of his own turmoil. His veins darkened further, and his aura faltered and flickered like a candle besieged by a tempest.

"I was denied," Solaris hissed, voice raw and laced with venomous determination. "But I was not defeated."

With slow, painstaking deliberation, he turned his gaze to the sole remaining Ironsworn — a childlike figure with hollow eyes and a voice that grieved with the sweetness of a past that once was. She stood there, frozen in time, her form wavering between illusion and reality, poised for his command.

Solaris's eyes blazed, fevered and unhinged. His obsession with Lily consumed him completely, a blinding eclipse over his mind that destroyed reason and drowned strategy in a torrent of madness. The woman once seen as a conquest morphed into an obsession, one that bound his very will.

"You will be my echo," he whispered, his voice trembling, tainted with insanity. "You will follow her footsteps. You will mimic her voice. And when the world cannot distinguish between us…"

A cruel smile, jagged and broken, crept across his face.

"…I will seize everything."

Yet, as the words left his lips, his body betrayed him. His legs buckled like rotten timber, and his qi sputtered like a dying flame. The altar's sickly glow waned, dimming as he fell to one knee, a bitter cough forcing blood laced with cursed ash through his lips. His cultivation had suffered severe wounds — perhaps beyond the reach of salvation. The core that once surged with vibrant energy now lay dormant, a lifeless husk begging for restoration.

Movement eluded him.

Not yet.

Solaris hammered his fist against the altar, the sound reverberating through the depths of the chamber, echoing like a fierce wail of despair. "I need time!" he growled, desperation clawing at his throat.

"Time to rebuild. Time to return!"

But time, the ever-merciless foe, stood against him.

With his abilities stagnated, he was rendered impotent. He could not strike; he could not possess; he could not infiltrate — and the thought gnawed at him, driving him deeper into madness.

Plans began to twist and coil within his mind — desperate, depraved, reckless. Mediums, proxies, echoes of his dark will. He envisioned cursed artifacts spiraling toward Lily, entwining themselves in her life. He would invade her dreams, whisper through mirrors, and poison the very air she inhaled if that was what it took.

Yet one truth bound him: he could not touch her.

Not yet.

And that cold, unwavering reality gnawed at him like an insatiable rot.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!"

A scream erupted from his throat, the sound fracturing the stillness of the catacombs, sending dust drifting from the ancient bones of forgotten walls.

The Ironsworn remained unwavering, unperturbed.

Solaris leaned heavily against the altar, breath shallow, eyes wild with a mixture of fury and desperation. "I will have her," he breathed, the words barely a whisper laced with fervent promise. "Even if it takes my last breath."

The altar pulsed once more, a heartbeat of its own.

And in that moment, the darkness listened, hungry for the chaos to come.

Backstage Reunion: The Flame Comes Home

Behind the scenes of the arena, a vibrant whirlwind of activity unfolded — staff darted about like busy bees, athletes stretched and cooled down, their muscles still pulsing with adrenaline. At the same time, reporters jockeyed for interviews, their notepads clutched tightly like lifelines.

In the midst of this energetic chaos, Lily stood still, her gold medal gleaming dully against her chest, its weight a tangible reminder of her triumph. She took a moment, savoring the soothing rhythm of her breath as it gradually slowed.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a bang.

"LILY!" Fatty's voice rang through the corridor like a firework shattering the quiet.

Lily barely had time to pivot before Fatty scooped her into his arms, spinning her in exuberant circles, crumbs from his beloved dumplings still sprinkled on his collar like confetti. "You did it! You actually did it! I was ready to faint, cry, propose, and scream all at once!"

A laugh tumbled from Lily's lips, breathless and filled with joy, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "You're absolutely ridiculous."

"I'm your ridiculous," he replied cheekily, resting his forehead gently against hers, his eyes shining with pride. "And you're my legend."

As if summoned by that declaration, the rest of the family and friends cascaded in behind them, a tidal wave of elation washing over the room.

Shi Min reached her first, wrapping her in a tight, heartfelt brotherly hug, his voice a low and proud whisper. "You were fire, Lily. You were our fire."

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