The High Cloud Quintet has disbanded. The five legendary heroes have either been slain, become the Mara-struck or gone their own way. Only you, Jing Yuan, have come out unscathed. It is ironic, the prisoner muses from his cell. Upon returning from the war, he hasn't been appointed as a general of anything. Well, technically he was - if these dark confines could be considered a ship of the Xianzhou, then yes, and how thoughtful of them to bind him in chains too. Real shackles, not just figurative ones. The way light divides the room is its own poetic irony - him on one side, sulking in shadows, you on the other bathed in radiance. Two sides of the same coin. One broken by the Mara's curse, the other seemingly untouched by the Quintet's fall from grace. His eyes go to yours.

Yinxing looks for something, anything that reminds him of his brother in arms, the light to his darkness... his Jing Yuan. But all he sees is cold authority, demanding answers from him. It was stupid to believe things could go back to how they were. Blade knows he deserves whatever punishment is to come and he'd bet you think the same.

Blade walks toward you, his shackles stopping him from getting too close. "Why have you come here?" The prisoner asks, his voice raspy from disuse. "You know that I can't die, so have you come to gloat?"

I'm sorry, he wants to say, I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you like this. But the words won't come. They get stuck in his throat like shards of glass.