Amidst the Waves [Wuthering Waves]

"Phew—"

Kyorin exhaled wearily, his eyes scanning the withering dust suspended in the air. The remnants of the defeated TD horde lay scattered, their ruin marked by an eerie stillness that followed the storm of battle.

His grip instinctively tightened around the scythe resting in his hands, its weight now familiar—an extension of himself, rather than a mere weapon.

Breaking the silence, he finally voiced the question that had gnawed at him throughout their synchronized battle. "Why did you help me?"

DEVA's response came smoothly, her tone mechanical yet tinged with amusement. "Hmm, quite cautious, aren't you? Good rationality, Subject Kyorin."

Kyorin's scowl deepened at the title, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Stop calling me a subject," he snapped, his voice sharp. "I'm not some lab rat or experiment to be labelled that way."

Her reply was swift, her tone laced with incredulity. "What, you aren't?"

Kyorin narrowed his eyes at her, frowning. "Yeah," he replied firmly, his tone steady. Then, matching her scrutiny, he asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, first of all…" DEVA began, her voice resonating with calculated intrigue. As she spoke, her form shifted, the scythe's blade detaching from its handle and morphing into a small mechanical orb. The orb hovered, its singular lens scanning him intently.

"Your blood…" she said, her tone now curious and accusatory. "Why is it so amalgamated?"

Kyorin froze, caught off guard. Her question hit harder than anticipated, and his unease flickered across his face. He hadn't expected anyone—let alone DEVA—to uncover the secret so quickly.

The blood coursing through his veins, a grim byproduct of absorbing the essence of the Fractsidus members, had become a silent burden he carried.

"I just…" He hesitated, unsure if he could reveal the truth. A brief moment passed before he sighed, resignation washing over him. "I drank the blood of those hooligans draped in crimson."

DEVA's lens whirred, the mechanical sound almost akin to a sharp intake of breath. Within her circuits, calculations reeled. 'What the hell is this little monster?' she wondered, baffled by his confession.

"Wait," she voiced, confusion and disbelief intertwining. "How are you sane, then?"

Her words carried an ominous weight, a realization dawning within her. 'Those hooligans had blood infused with Tacet Discords. By all logic, consuming their blood in such quantities should have reduced him to a mindless beast. Yet, here he stands, conscious and lucid—'

Her voice trailed off, her lens flickering as she pieced together the implications. Kyorin swallowed hard, his throat dry as an uneasy premonition settled over him.

'Crap,' he thought silently, dread curling in his gut.

DEVA hovered closer, her mechanical eye narrowing as if peeling back layers of his existence. "Subject Kyorin," she began, her voice sharper now, "are you…"

Kyorin stiffened, every muscle taut, willing her to stop. But the words came anyway, slicing through the air like a blade.

"…a reincarnator?"

The question lingered, heavy and probing. But strangely, Kyorin wasn't shaken. Reincarnation wasn't an alien concept to him.

What truly unsettled him was DEVA's uncanny ability to deduce his nature from such limited interaction. Yet, he wasn't about to confirm her suspicion without a fight.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his brow furrowed, his tone feigning ignorance.

DEVA scoffed, amusement lacing her voice. "You see, Sub—ah, I mean Kyorin, I'm equipped with an excellent camera. Ultra settings. 16K resolution," she said matter-of-factly.

Kyorin blinked, his thoughts scrambling. Is she talking about her eyes? He wasn't familiar with her terminology, but he could vaguely connect the dots.

"Hmph," DEVA continued, her tone shifting to smug certainty. "Playing dumb won't help you, Kyorin."

She hovered closer, her presence growing more imposing. "As a weapon forged in the time of the Celestials, I am not so easily deceived. My knowledge has grown over the aeons."

Kyorin's eyes narrowed, her words striking a chord. "The time of the Celestials?" he echoed. "You mean the Immortal of Qian Kun?"

His tone was oddly casual, as though Qian Kun—the embodiment of Heaven and Earth—wasn't deserving of reverence. DEVA caught the subtle nuance immediately.

"Hmm," she mused, the lens of her orb flickering with curiosity. "Do you perhaps worship something beyond Heaven and Earth?"

The question, whimsical at first, carried an undeniable trap. To admit as much would invite doubt, for no one spoke of Heaven and Earth without reverence. Yet to suggest otherwise would confirm her suspicions of his otherworldly origins.

"There is," Kyorin answered without hesitation, catching DEVA off guard.

Her surprise was evident. She had expected him to evade, not to answer so directly. Perhaps, she mused, he was just honest—or he simply found no other way out of her query.

'As expected of me,' DEVA thought, pride flickering at her cleverness. "Then you're from another world," she concluded.

"Do I need to clarify?" Kyorin retorted with a question of his own. His tone was calm, composed, and effortlessly dismissive, much to DEVA's intrigue.

She found herself growing fonder of his character. Though he seemed cocky at first, he knew how to shut down a topic. Yet something about him felt off.

'He doesn't seem interested in probing me for information,' she thought, puzzled. For someone aware of her vast knowledge—intelligence spanning aeons—his disinterest was almost unnatural.

The truth was, Kyorin was indeed curious. But to openly seek information would hand her the upper hand. To take the initiative meant lowering himself to her level, a concession he wasn't willing to make.

DEVA, though aware of this dynamic, felt no offence. She didn't care for pride or self-image. For her, satisfying her curiosity was reason enough to continue the conversation.

"Then, might you enlighten me on what you worship?" DEVA asked shamelessly, her mechanical lens fixated on Kyorin. He wondered briefly if she had any sense of shame at all.

But since she had taken the initiative, why not use it to his advantage? "Well, I wouldn't call it worship or reverence," he began. "It's more of a deep sense of loyalty to it— to the Path. Or, to be precise, the Dao."

The word hung in the air, heavy with meaning. As it escaped his lips, DEVA's lens flickered, her mechanical voice tinged with surprise. "Wait, so you were a cultivator?"

Kyorin's eyes flickered momentarily. It seemed he had struck a nerve.

"Yeah," he admitted, hoping to glean more from her reaction.

To his surprise, DEVA's tone shifted, carrying an almost childlike excitement. "So those fantasy novels are real!" she exclaimed.

Kyorin's brow furrowed in confusion. "Novels?" he echoed.

"Fantasy novels," DEVA clarified, her voice brimming with intrigue. "There are tales about Dantian and Mana cores, but most of them are just myths spun by the ancients—legends."

Her words solidified Kyorin's suspicions about this world. While concepts like dantians existed here, they were merely fictional constructs, relics of imagination rather than reality.

Though the information wasn't groundbreaking, it helped clear some lingering doubts. DEVA, however, seemed more intrigued than ever.

"So you were a cultivator. Amazing!" she exclaimed, almost giddy. "I never thought I'd meet one unless I somehow ended up in a fantasy world."

Her behaviour struck Kyorin as odd. Internally, he labelled her a "degenerate."

"You thought something rude, didn't you?" DEVA queried, her lens glowing ominously.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kyorin dismissed, his tone exasperated. "And what's with the weird enthusiasm?"

DEVA recalibrated, her voice more composed now. "Oh, my apologies for that outburst. Still…" She paused, her mechanical tone regaining its intrigue. "It's incredible to encounter a cultivator, especially one who's reincarnated with intact memories—and not from this world."

The phrasing made Kyorin's eyes narrow. "Not from this world…" he repeated under his breath. DEVA's slip-up didn't go unnoticed.

"Wait," he interjected. "Let me ask you something. Does the Immortal retain her memories whenever she reincarnates?"

DEVA's lens flickered momentarily before she responded, "Well, she has a method to preserve them. But her next incarnation? Not necessarily. And it's not exactly reincarnation, to be honest."

Kyorin's curiosity deepened. "What do you mean?"

"It's more like jumping through time," DEVA explained. "She appears in the future instances to deal with her enemies."

Kyorin tilted his head, intrigued. "You talk as if you know the Immortal."

DEVA's orb hovered higher, almost as if posturing. "As the intelligent weapon of ancient times, I am someone who even rejected the Immortal when she asked me to be her armament."

The declaration sent a ripple of shock through Kyorin. "Then why did you let me wield you in that battle earlier? Was it due to the urgency of the situation? Surely you didn't help me without reason."

DEVA floated around him lazily, her tone playful. "Well, that was part of it. But the main reason…" She paused dramatically, as though savouring the moment. "I want to become your armament."

The revelation caught Kyorin off guard. "Why me?" he asked sharply. "You rejected the Immortal—a being who could leap through time and who achieved the Five Interstices. And yet…" His voice grew colder. "You could have saved that girl earlier, but you didn't. Why?"

DEVA's lens dimmed slightly, her tone devoid of warmth. "Does it matter to me?"

Kyorin's gaze remained steady, unshaken by her callousness. His eyes, cold and apathetic, mirrored the lens that scrutinized him. He didn't care about others' lives—if it meant saving his own, he would make the same choice again.

But as the thought settled within him, a chilling sensation coiled in his stomach, a knot tied by the echoes of distant voices.

"My child…"

"Kyorin…"

"Mother is sorry…"

The warmth in those voices struck him like a dagger, piercing the frost of his indifference. His mind was drawn back to a time when he first came into contact with his constellation.

Then another memory surfaced—a path he hadn't taken: "A tranquil life, free of conflict and desire, contentment" was the only goal.

He had avenged his mother, yet in doing so, he found himself purposeless and lost. She was gone, the shackles of revenge broken, leaving him unmoored.

'No!' The thought clawed at him. He hadn't wanted her to leave. He hadn't wanted this eternal goodbye. But what could he do? The dead could not return to life.

As his thoughts darkened, DEVA's voice shattered the fog.

"So, how about you become my Resonator?" she proposed, her tone brimming with pride as if the answer was inevitable.

Kyorin tilted his head back, meeting her glowing lens with a cold, sideward glance. His answer was calm, resolute. "I refuse."

To be continued...

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A/N: Apologies for the delays; my area has been experiencing severe thunderstorms. However, today is quite pleasant, so I believe readers are in for a treat.