An hour later, the eggs fully hatched.
But before that, I was a mess.
I had been pacing in tight, uneven circles, my palms sweaty, heart thumping like thunder inside a ribcage that felt far too small.
My father noticed first.
He reached out and rested a steadying hand on my shoulder. "You look like you're about to pass out," he said with a soft laugh.
"I just…" I stopped. Because how could I explain it?
"One of the eggs, just one—felt familiar."I pondered slowly.
Not in a way that made sense. I'd never met it. Never touched it before today. But somewhere, deep inside, there was this pull this overwhelming sense that someone I'd lost was inside. Someone waiting to return to me.
I was about to be reunited with… them. I didn't know who they were. But the ache of that missing presence—now close again—was so strong I could hardly breathe.
"I know it sounds strange," I whispered.
My father's hand squeezed gently. "It doesn't. Not to people like us."
That made me smile, just a little.
We stood like that for a while, both watching the two eggs shimmer with inner light. He let me lean against him, grounding me in silence.
Then, in his usual gentle-dad way, he chuckled and said, "By the way, you'll need to head back to school soon."
I blinked. "Already?"
"The Federation sent notice. Apparently, your Uncle Hanji actually managed to upload and register your awakening results."
"I blinked. 'Uncle Hanji? The Hanji Fan Hanji?'"
He grinned. "Yes. That Hanji. Looks like he's not as unreliable as you keep saying."
I snorted. "That's debatable."
"But," my father continued, "it wasn't just him. Master Sun took care of the final submissions himself. You'll have to thank him the next time you see him."
"Definitely," I said, surprised and touched. "I will."
And just like that, the nerves settled. My father had that effect on me. Always had.
I stood straighter. I was ready now.
Then the smaller egg—the size of an adult hand—shivered. Thin cracks traced along the shell like lightning, glowing faintly from within. A soft chirp escaped as the top finally gave way.
And there it was.
A translucent baby eagle emerged, blinking as if light was new to it. Its feathers shimmered like frost in morning sun—half-solid, half-ghost. One wing was firm and formed. The other… wavered in and out like mist. There, then not. Whole, then fragmented.
My breath caught in my throat.
And then I cried.
I didn't mean to. The tears came before I could understand them.
It looked just like Maximus.
————
Memory Fragment: Hu Yumei
————
But just before the egg cracked open, a memory surged—unbidden, raw, sharp as mountain wind.
Another life.
Another name.
Hu Yumei.
I was coming home from a rescue mission, exhausted, my boots caked in mud, and my coat torn down one sleeve. I hadn't even made it through the gate when the call came through: someone had sighted the target. No time to debrief. No time to sleep.
Undercover op. Poacher syndicate. Australian outback. Something about a golden eagle nest discovered on a remote cliffside. A bounty of fifteen million yuan had been floated through black-market channels to whoever could bring the eagle back alive.
I flipped.
"I just got back! I haven't even changed—"
But I was already zipping my pack shut. Fury rolled through me, but so did something else. A gut-deep, bone-level instinct. If I don't go, they'll ruin it.
I flew to Australia, spent two weeks backpacking and gathering intel, biting through dust and bad leads. Infiltrated a group of smugglers by pretending to be a thrill-seeking merc. Lied my way into their trust. Fed them just enough misinformation to delay their search.
When they finally moved out to "find" the nest, I made my move—neutralized the lead poacher, extracted the primary data they'd stolen, and set their GPSs on a lovely, eagle-free detour.
Then I scaled the actual cliff alone.
It was high. Windy. The kind of cliff that had killed people just for looking at it wrong.
At the top, the nest was there. Massive. Empty.
Something had been here. Something violent.
Shredded feathers, fragments of shell, even small, twisted bodies—half-born, never-breathed. My throat closed. It looked like something had attacked mid-hatching.
I almost turned back.
But then I saw it.
Half-buried in scorched sticks and lead debris, tucked behind a charred rib of branch—an egg. Small. Cracked. Covered in soot.
I reached out.
Held it in gloved hands.
It was still warm.
I packed it slowly. Delicately. Used every bit of insulation I could find, built a soft cradle out of the inside of my gear. I didn't dare move fast. Every jostle felt like betrayal.
I climbed down. Took the long way home.
And for three weeks, I watched over that egg like a soldier guarding a fallen comrade.
No heat lamp. No sleep.
People in the barracks called me ridiculous.
"It's dead already."
"You've finaly cracked, Hu Yumei huh?."
"Why waste time?." But then—he hatched.
Maximus. He was so small.
And he only had one wing.
A lopsided, fragile little thing with a fierce glint in his eye and a cry like thunder distilled to a whisper.
They laughed at me.
But I didn't care.
Because the moment I held him—I knew.
He'd been worth every lost hour.
"Later, I retired and went back to school to become a veterinary surgeon, finally realizing my true passion: saving furry friends. Giving them a chance when no one believed they had one."
———
The same softness in its sharp gaze. The same cautious steps. The same eerie strength for something so impossibly fragile. But this one… this one had a wing. Almost.
And then, as if the recognition unlocked a key in my soul, something shimmered through me like a current.
———-
Name: Phantom Eagle
Class: Soul Beast
Grade: High-Rare Assassin-Class
Bonded With: Fan Yumei
Location of Bonding: Storming Cliff Cradle, under oathbound test
⸻
🧬 Bloodline:
—
"An assassin-class beast from advanced beastal societies—feared, not for its power, but its silence."
Maxius is a rare soul beast whose second wing is a phantom—completely undetectable. It deceives by appearing crippled. But in truth, it manipulates visibility and perception to lure in threats, before striking unseen and untraceable.
⸻
📜 Titles:
—
• The Eagle That Cried Wolf
• Trickster Bird
• One-Winged Slayer
⸻
⚔️ Attack Skills:
—
• Phantom Blade – Slashes with a soul-forged wing unseen to the senses
• Blind Feint – Feigns weakness mid-flight before releasing a sonic dive attack
• Aether Pulse Dive – Drops from high altitude and phases briefly between dimensions, reappearing behind enemy lines
• Predator's Mirage – Creates a mirror image to draw aggro and deliver a precise strike while cloaked
—
🛡️ Defense Skills:
• Ghost Feathers – Activates an aura that scatters light and qi, rendering Maxius semi-invisible and dampening incoming aim-based attacks
• Null Step – Temporarily shifts Maxius into the edge of the spirit realm to avoid physical or elemental strikes. Cannot be used while attacking.
—
☠️ Weakness:
—
Beast struggles against area-of-effect techniques and omnidirectional sensory fields, which can detect or suppress his cloaking. His low base endurance makes prolonged battles risky if his deception fails.
⸻
🧷 Classification:
—
• Element: Wind / Shadow
• Type: Deceptive Assassin
• Size: hawk-like height, lean-bodied
• Temperament: Cold, protective, eerily intelligent
• Current State: Newly Hatched and Bonded,
———
I stared at it with awe and more than a little dread.
What had I been given?
Then the larger egg—the football-sized one—began to hum.
It split with a sound like wind chimes in a forgotten forest.
What stepped out made my breath stop all over again.
A deer.
Fawn-sized, pure white, its fur smooth like snow untouched by time. Resting gently on its head was a crown of small flowers—soft hues of blue, blush, and moonlit white. But it was the antlers that left me stunned.
Crystal.
They shimmered and refracted the soft light like prisms, far too large for its body. The moment it moved, they tipped it forward, making it stumble awkwardly before catching itself with an almost embarrassed twitch of the ear.
I turned to the deer, and something pulled at my chest—an invisible thread. I reached inward, through soul, through self.
And I found him.
A warm current rushed up my spine and settled behind my eyes.
Then: clarity.
—————
Name: Emerald Spirit Deer
Class: Ancient Soul Beast
Grade: Legendary Healer-Class
Bond Compatibility: Rare and Resilient
State: Successfully Bonded
Bonded With: Fan Yumei
⸻
🧬 Bloodline:
—
"Of the Ancient Mythical Crystal Spirit Deer Family."
An ethereal being that resides between the soul and the self. It does not simply heal wounds but mends spiritual damage, fractured instincts, and lost purpose. Known across lore as a beast of forgotten realms and silent salvation.
⸻
📜 Titles:
—
• Soul-Thread Weaver
• Silent Antler of Clarity
• White Deer of the Forgotten Path
⸻
🛡️ Skills:
—
Healing & Support Skills:
—
• Soulwalk – Enters another's spirit realm to restore what was broken
• Instinct Guard – Shields internal instincts and consciousness from corruption
• Cleansing Antler – Purges malignant energy or cursed soul links
• Memory Weave – Restores or gently erases unstable memory fragments
• Bound Pact – Forms permanent stabilizing bond with one chosen partner
——
Attack Skills:
—
• Crystal Bloom Pulse – Releases a burst of emerald soul-force through her antlers, disrupting hostile energy and causing spiritual backlash in corrupted foes
• Mindroot Pierce – A targeted horn thrust that bypasses surface defense and delivers a shock to an enemy's will center, inducing disorientation or passivity
• Forest master Gaze – Emits a focused stare that projects oppressive spiritual pressure on one target; weak-willed enemies may stagger or freeze
——
Defensive Skill:
—
• Veil of Serenity – Wraps herself and nearby allies in a misty soul-shield that nullifies spiritual toxins, dampens mental interference, and reduces qi-based projectile damage for a short time
——
☠️ Weakness:
—
Beast is most vulnerable to raw, sustained physical force—especially brute force attackers -type beasts who lack spiritual instability and ignore soul-focused interference. She's also weak while soul-walking.
—
🧷 Classification:
• Element: Spirit / Nature / Light
• Type: Healer & Stabilizer
• Size: Juvenile – Antlers reach just below the knee
• Current State: Newly Hatched, Bonded, Emotionally Synced
———
I let out a shaky breath. I understood now why my heart had trembled when I first saw him.
I was frozen. In awe. In confusion. In something deeper than either.
And then pain bloomed in my wrist.
I gasped.
A burning sensation tore through the skin of my inner wrist, and glowing symbols began to form—twisting, pulsing with foreign geometry. My pulse matched their rhythm. My breath locked in my chest.
Then a voice echoed inside me. Not heard through ears, but known through soul.
——
─────────────
🔮 My Soul Function Gift
─────────────
• Gift Name: Fallen World Inner Dimensional Sanctuary
• Type: Healing & Dimensional soul World travel
• Class: Unknown (Mutation-Class)
• Status: Not Active
• Sync Level: 58% [Not Stable]
• Activation: Triggered at Soul Beast Hatching
• Designation: Dimensional | Support | High-Risk Utility
─────────────
🌀 DIMENSION OVERVIEW
─────────────
• Dimensions Linked:
— My Soul World
— A world like a Earth, before it evolved
——
• What It Gives Me:
✓ A space to train my beasts
✓ A place to heal them—fast, deep, clean
✓ A surgical zone— A vet clinics
✓ Somewhere I can push skills beyond limits
——-
• Time Shift:
1 hour outside = 2 full days inside
——-
• Zones I Can Access:
◦ Combat Arenas
◦ Recovery Rooms
◦ Fallen World Vet Clinic
◦ Archive of Lost Medical Relics
─────────────
⚕️ VETERINARY MODULE: Not Active
─────────────
• I Can Perform:
– Surgery, regeneration, bone-mending
– Detoxification, infection purges
– Pain suppression and mental release
——-
• Tools I've Found So Far:
✓ Old vet gear I somehow *know* how to use
✓ Medicines that don't exist in this world
✓ Healing scrolls written in half-lost languages
✓ Catalyst relics powered by qi—or blood
——
• Passive Buffs Inside:
+50% Healing Speed for beasts
+20% Mental Recovery (Beasts Only)
─────────────
🐾 BEAST ZONE FUNCTIONS
─────────────
• Death Isn't Final there
• Pain Is Real—but doesn't linger
• Skills grow faster after failure
• Emotional spikes or hard-fought battles sometimes uncover relics
• Number of beasts synced scales with my cultivation tier
─────────────
⚠️ LIMITATIONS & RISKS
─────────────
• I can only open it *twice per day*
• If I push too hard, I risk:
– Soul rupture
– Fractured memories
– Beasts going unstable
– Dimensional collapse or get lost in the soul world
– Soul fragment are alive and can mark and follow you back to the real world.
– …And not everything inside is dead or is a memory
———
• If sync drops below 35%…
→ Emergency Lockout triggers
→ Auto-eject sequence slams me out
─────────────
• Some relics won't respond unless I use qi, soul force… or blood
• The world reacts to how I feel—rage, fear, grief… all of it can reshape the rooms
• The clinic improves the more I grow, refine, and remember
> "This thing listens. It watches. Maybe it remembers more than I do.
> I don't know how it's mine—or if I'm *part of it* now."
─────────────
🔒 Mutation Tier Growth: Locked
🔒 Class Rank: Pending
——-
I trembled.
I needed to understand what had chosen me. Only time will tell.
But I didn't get the chance to share any of it.
As I turned to speak, my mother raised her hand—calm, quiet, but commanding.
"Sometimes," she said, eyes steady, "the power you hold should be kept deep inside. Not even whispered to your soul."
I froze.
"Her eyes flicked, just for a moment, toward the markings on her own wrist—long faded but still there."
Her gaze wasn't just serious—it was haunted.
"It's your lifeblood in this cruel world. You must train harder. If you think it's enough, then it isn't even a fraction. Sometimes things aren't just blue and black," she added softly, "but sometimes demands yellow and red."
I slowly closed my mouth.
She was right.
They didn't need to know—not all of it.
Not yet.
I should've realized sooner.
Trust was dangerous here.
Even in myself.
A chill ran through me. This place, this life—it was more dangerous than I had imagined.
And the look in my parents' eyes… it was the same one I'd seen after war. When I'd stepped over fallen comrades, burying names I used to call home.
Some things were better left unsaid.
But never forgotten.