CHAPTER 45: CHAPTER 45; REBORN

Nothing.

She tried again, focusing harder, calling to the water in the air itself, the moisture that must exist even in this dry, sterile place.

A single drop condensed in her palm.

Shuyin’s jaw tightened. One drop. She had once commanded tsunamis, and now she could summon one drop.

But it was something. A beginning.

She closed her fist around the water, feeling its coolness. Then she reached deeper, into the well of knowledge that came with her kind, the healing properties of deep-sea minerals, the restorative compounds found in the bioluminescent organisms of her home, the medicinal secrets her people had perfected over millennia.

Her palm warmed. When she opened her hand again, three small, pearl-like spheres sat in her palm, each one glowing faintly with that same jade luminescence as her eye. They looked almost like candies, smooth and translucent.

She had made them from almost nothing, the moisture in the air, trace minerals from the concrete dust, and her own essence. Healing pills, condensed medicine that would help these human bodies recover from the wear and damage of this place.

Not because she particularly cared about humans in general.

But because Lin Shuyin had asked her to protect them. And a promise was a promise, even one made to a fading spirit.

Shuyin tucked two of the pills into her palm and carefully placed the third in her mouth, letting it dissolve. She needed to ensure this body could tolerate what she’d created.

The pill melted on her tongue, tasteless and cool, spreading through her system. She felt the last traces of damage fade away, her body reaching its optimal state.

It worked.

She turned back to face the others, her expression carefully neutral, that glowing eye sweeping over them with an intensity that made them shift uncomfortably.

"Here," she said, extending her hand toward them. Three more pills rested in her palm, she’d made a second batch while testing the first. "Take these."

Tank leaned forward, suspicious. "What are they?"

"Medicine."

"Medicine from where?" Blade asked, her nurse’s instincts on alert. "Princess, where did you get pills? They search us when we come in here. There’s nothing....."

"Take them or return them," Shuyin cut her off, her voice flat and emotionless. "No questions."

The three women stared at her. The tone was different, not harsh or mean, but distant. Clinical. Like she was speaking from somewhere far away.

"Princess?" Razor ventured carefully. "Are you sure you’re okay? You sound... different."

Shuyin’s glowing eye gaze fixed on Razor for a moment before she looked away. "I nearly died. Things change. Do you want the medicine or not?"

It wasn’t an explanation, but it wasn’t cruel either. Just... empty. Like a Matter-of-fact.

Tank studied her for a long moment, then reached out and took one of the pills, rolling it between her thick fingers. It looked like a pearl, or a piece of expensive candy, glowing faintly in the dim light.

"Whatever happens," Tank muttered. "You haven’t steered us wrong yet." She popped it into her mouth.

Her eyes widened immediately as it dissolved in her mouth. "That’s... that feels weird. Good weird. Really good weird."

Blade watched Tank carefully for a moment, her medical training assessing for any adverse reactions. When Tank only relaxed, the tension visibly draining from her massive shoulders, Blade took her own pill.

"Oh," she breathed as it melted on her tongue. "Oh, that’s incredible. I can feel... the pain in my arm is gone. Completely gone."

Razor took the last pill, and within seconds, color returned to her pale cheeks. She straightened up, energy returning to her thin frame.

"Princess," Tank said slowly, "what the hell are these things? Where did they come from?"

Shuyin’s expression remained blank, that reptilian eye unblinking. "I told you. No questions."

"But...."

"The jade hairpin protected me. Maybe it did more than just bring me back to life." Her voice was devoid of inflection, neither warm nor hostile. "I don’t understand it all myself yet. But it works. That’s all that matters."

The three women exchanged glances. The explanation was vague, but combined with what they’d already accepted about protective jade and old magic, it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

"Okay," Blade said carefully. "But Princess, you’re being really... distant. Are you in pain? Sometimes people go into shock after trauma."

"I’m fine." Shuyin turned away from them again, facing the wall. Her voice remained that same empty monotone. "Just tired. The healing took energy."

"We’re just worried about you," Razor said softly. "You died. Like, actually died. That’s got to mess with your head."

Shuyin was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was perhaps a fraction softer, but still carried that strange detachment.

"I appreciate your concern. I know you three protected me when no one else would." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "I won’t forget that. But right now, I need time to... adjust. To whatever this is now."

It wasn’t a lie, exactly. She did need to adjust, to this body, this world, this strange existence caught between what she was and what she had to pretend to be.

"That’s fair," Tank said, though she still sounded uncertain. "Just... you know we’re here, right? Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to deal with it alone."

Shuyin didn’t respond immediately. The concept of not being alone was foreign to her now, after three years of solitary torture. And these were humans, the species she had every reason to hate.

But they were also the three people Shuyin’s spirit had begged her to protect. The three who had shown kindness when cruelty was easier.

"I know," she finally said, and left it at that.

The three women sat in thoughtful silence, processing everything. Their Princess had changed, that much was obvious. The warmth was gone, replaced by something cold and distant. But she wasn’t cruel. She had healed them. She acknowledged their protection.

Maybe this was just what surviving death looked like.

Maybe this distance, this emotional emptiness, was a wall she needed to process the trauma.

They’d seen it before, in other inmates who’d been broken by the system. That hollow look, that careful detachment. It was a survival mechanism.

They didn’t know the truth, that the gentle, educated Princess who had quoted poetry and shared stories of her grandmother’s garden was truly gone.

That which sat in this cell with them was an ancient mermaid wearing her face, bound by a promise to a fading spirit, carrying three years of torture and hatred in her heart.

And Shuyin intended to keep it that way.

"Get some rest," she said quietly, her glowing eye closing again. "All of you. You’ll need your strength."

"For what?" Razor asked curiously.

Shuyin’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

"For whatever comes next. We are still in here..."

The words hung in the air like a prophecy, and the three women felt an involuntary shiver run down their spines despite the renewed strength flowing through their bodies from the mysterious pills.

"What do you mean by that?" Blade asked slowly, her medical instincts picking up on something in Shuyin’s tone, something that suggested she knew more than she was letting on.

But before Shuyin could respond, Tank held up a hand, her head tilting slightly. "Wait. Quiet."

They all fell silent, and in that silence, they heard it.

Footsteps.

Not the lazy, irregular shuffle of guards on routine patrol. These were purposeful. Deliberate. Multiple sets moving in synchronized formation, the kind of coordination that spoke of military precision or practiced brutality.

The footsteps grew louder, echoing off the concrete walls of the corridor outside their isolation cells. Three distinct patterns, heavy boots striking the ground with the confidence of men who knew they held all the power.

Razor’s face went pale, her hands instinctively curling into fists. "No," she whispered, her voice thin with dread. "Not the ring. Not again."

Tank’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath the skin. Her eyes flickered with memory, of lights too bright, of fists and feet and the roar of a bloodthirsty crowd. "Damn it! Already?"

Blade’s expression hardened into something brittle and resigned. "Last time I went in, I thought I wouldn’t come out." Her voice was barely audible.

"Took me a week to stop seeing it when I closed my eyes."

Shuyin felt the borrowed memories surge forward, uninvited.

Lin Shuyin’s memories of the ring, the blinding spotlights that made it impossible to see the crowd’s faces, reducing them to shadows and gleaming eyes.