There was no ground beneath them.
No falling.
No standing.
Just a blinding white void tearing itself apart.
Yin Lie felt Qin Mian's fingers slipping from his—
"No—Mian! Hold onto me!"
Her voice was thin, barely audible through the distortion.
"I—I'm trying… Lie… don't let go…"
The In-Between Dimension screamed as it fractured,
shards of impossible light slicing through the air like glass with no weight.
Silhouettes—those hollow, faceless enforcers—
drifted toward them again,
pulled along invisible currents,
arms reaching as if to reclaim a runaway object.
A runaway Anchor.
The dimension whispered in a dead monotone:
"FUNCTION: BIND.
FUNCTION: RESTORE.
FUNCTION: RESET."
Qin Mian cried out in panic.
"Lie—it's trying to overwrite me!
Like I'm a… a program!"
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Something inside Yin Lie snapped.
"You're not a function," he growled.
"You're a person. She's a PERSON!"
His power flared in response—
ice crawling up his arms in jagged arcs,
wolf-fire bursting from his back,
Keystone glyphs spinning violently around him.
The dimension reacted instantly.
LIGHT PRISON INITIATED.
White chains formed in the air—
blinding beams that wrapped around his limbs,
freezing his movement,
locking his power like clamps on his soul.
Yin Lie gasped as his knees hit the empty floor.
Qin Mian screamed.
"NO—LIE—!"
Her arms reached for him but the dimension pulled her back,
her body dragged toward the silhouettes.
Her hair floated upward,
her eyes glowing in terror.
The dimension whispered:
"ANCHOR DETECTED.
COMMENCE RETURN PROCESS."
"No," Yin Lie whispered,
voice shaking with fury and fear.
"You're not taking her."
But the chains tightened—
burning cold against his ice,
scorching hot against his fire.
He felt something tearing inside him—
the same tearing he felt as a child,
when his power first awakened and his body nearly killed itself trying to contain it.
Qin Mian reached toward him again.
"Lie—please—get up—get up—"
He gritted his teeth.
The chains constricted.
His vision blurred.
His heartbeat slowed.
The dimension whispered:
"OBSTRUCTION WILL BE NEUTRALIZED."
"No," he repeated.
And something inside him—
something beyond the wolf,
beyond the ice,
beyond even the Keystone—
answered.
Not human.
Not Variant.
Something deeper.
A voice inside his chest—his own—whispered back:
Break it.
His breath caught.
The white chains pulsed—
—and Yin Lie stood.
Not fully.
Not cleanly.
But he forced his body upright, fighting the impossible weight crushing him.
The dimension shuddered.
Qin Mian's eyes widened with disbelief.
"Lie… that's impossible… nothing resists those chains…"
"Because I'm not part of their rules."
His voice had changed—
lower, rougher, layered as though more than one voice spoke through him.
Wolf-fire ignited around him in a spiraling inferno.
The ice on his arms melted into mist—
then reformed into crystalline armor.
The Keystone symbols behind him spun so fast they became a single circle of light.
The white chains tightened, desperate.
And Yin Lie pulled against them.
One step.
The void trembled as if something sacred was being violated.
Second step.
The dimension shrieked,
sharp enough to split the air into cracks.
Third step—
The white chains cracked.
A single hairline fracture.
But a fracture in a rule was the beginning of collapse.
The silhouettes froze.
The entire In-Between world held its breath.
Qin Mian whispered:
"…Lie… you're rewriting the dimension…"
He looked at her, voice like thunder muffled by pain.
"No.
I'm breaking it."
He pulled again—
and the first chain SHATTERED.
Light burst outward like a supernova.
Qin Mian shielded her eyes.
Yin Lie fell to one knee, coughing blood—
—but he was free.
The dimension reacted violently:
"ERROR. ERROR. ERROR—
RULESET COMPROMISED—"
The silhouettes rushed at him.
Yin Lie rose, swaying,
but his eyes burning with impossible light.
"You want rules?"
His voice echoed across the void.
"Here's mine:
Don't. Touch. Her."
Wolf-fire roared upward in a pillar.
Ice spires erupted beneath him like jagged thrones.
The Keystone halo spun at maximum speed—
sparking cracks through the dimension itself.
He reached for Qin Mian.
She flew into his arms as if the space itself obeyed him now.
Her breath hitched against his chest.
"Lie… your body—your power—it's too much—!"
He pressed his forehead to hers, panting.
"It doesn't matter.
You're here.
I'm here.
I'm not letting them erase you."
Behind them, the dimension cracked like cracking glass under a hammer.
The silhouettes tried to step forward,
but Yin Lie's presence alone pushed them back—
like gravity reversing for them and only them.
Qin Mian stared at him with awe and fear.
"You're not supposed to do this," she whispered.
"No Variant can break this place—"
He touched her cheek.
"Mian.
I don't care what I'm supposed to be."
The void lit up behind him.
BOOOOOOOOOOM—!!
A shockwave tore through the In-Between dimension,
swallowing the silhouettes,
shattering the reflective ground,
unraveling the false gravity.
Qin Mian clutched him tightly.
"Lie—what did you do—?!"
He looked at her softly,
a tired, almost broken smile on his lips.
"I chose you."
The dimension snapped.
Everything collapsed—
and they fell again—
not upward,
not downward—
but into the unknown.
—Chapter 105 End—