Legend of the Divine Archer

When Yan Jin regained consciousness he was laying in the cave next to the stem cell. Scar made sure to not touch his body, nor his belongings. "How thoughtful of him".

Yan Jin breathed deeply, feeling the warmth of the stem cell's vibrations spreading through his sore, battered body. Every inch of him ached, his dislocated shoulder throbbing, and his ribs screamed with pain. He forced himself into a meditative position, channeling his Nine Neonate bloodline to begin the healing process.

His senses were still heightened from the earlier battle, and the sound of Scar's footsteps didn't escape him. The pressure of Scar's presence approached, and Yan Jin could feel his gaze boring into him.

"You're awake," Scar remarked, his tone hard and unwavering.

"Yes," Yan Jin replied, his voice steady, despite the pain.

Scar moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied Yan Jin. "What bloodline do you hold within you?" he asked, his voice carrying a trace of curiosity behind its roughness.

"Ancient Gwi bloodline," Yan Jin responded without hesitation.

Scar snorted dismissively. "Never heard of it."

"It's ancient," Yan Jin replied calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a smile. "Probably older than you."

Scar bristled, frustration flickering across his face. "You are rude."

"Yes, sir," Yan Jin replied, biting back a laugh, though his body still throbbed with pain. He could feel Scar's mounting irritation but found it somewhat amusing.

Scar's expression darkened as he continued, "You know, that was a terrible idea—letting out your bloodline without any control. You could have died."

"I know," Yan Jin said, his voice softening. The truth of it settled deep within him. "But it felt good," he added, his eyes darkening with memory. "It felt amazing, like I had power unlike…"

"Like an emperor," Scar interrupted, his eyes sharp.

Yan Jin paused, the unsightly smirk slipping from his face for just a moment before he regained his poise. "I would say like a god," he responded, his voice filled with a quiet confidence. "But emperor is good too."

Scar stared at him, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Even if you have an ancient bloodline," Scar said with a growl, "you are still very weak. I could kill you with a wing slap."

Yan Jin didn't flinch, though his eyes flickered with the faintest hint of a challenge. "That's because I'm injured," he replied calmly, "but when I heal…you won't even see my shadow."

Scar's eyes flashed with irritation. "Do you think that because you can imitate some Garuda movement, you are my equal?" His voice grew hard, brimming with disdain. "In this world, power is stronger than anything."

Yan Jin met his gaze evenly, the calm confidence never leaving his face. "Power is stronger than anything," he echoed. "But power comes in many forms." He paused, his mind drifting back to the battles he'd fought and the energy he'd absorbed. "And right now, I'm learning how to wield mine."

Scar grunted, his wings shifting restlessly as if agitated by Yan Jin's calm resolve. "Wield it better," he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. "Or next time, you won't have the luxury of healing."

Yan Jin closed his eyes, his breath steadying once more as he returned to his meditation.

After a few hours of meditation, Yan Jin rose from his seated position, stretching his sore muscles, his body now mostly healed from the earlier battles. He twisted his torso to the left and right, feeling the satisfying pop of his joints as he moved.

Scar's piercing gaze followed his every motion. "How are you already healed, you freak?" Scar asked, incredulity thick in his voice.

Yan Jin turned towards him, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ancient bloodline perks," he replied with a casual shrug, though there was an undeniable undercurrent of pride in his tone.

He then turned his attention to the stem cell that had been radiating warmth toward him throughout his recovery. As he gazed upon it, a pang of disheartenment crept into his chest. The corruption that had spread across the vein was unmistakable now, tainting everything it touched. "Is there nothing we can do?" Yan Jin asked, his voice soft but filled with a hint of desperation.

Scar's eyes darkened. "I have been fighting the corruption for 100 years," he said with a heavy sigh. "We have never won against it."

Yan Jin raised an eyebrow, catching the emphasis on the word. "We?"

Scar's demeanor shifted, and a heaviness seemed to settle over him. His gaze grew distant, almost as if he were looking into the past. "When the great Garuda died," Scar began, "a drop of its origin blood was crystallized and became the core of the vein as you know it." His voice had taken on a reverent tone, his normally abrasive demeanor softening.

"The great Garuda," he continued, "was a proud creature of the heavens. Its pride became its obsession, and its resentment festered in its blood when it faced its demise. It refused to accept death. It wanted to defy its very existence, to rise again, to soar through the skies as it once had."

Yan Jin listened intently, feeling the weight of the story as Scar spoke.

"That obsession, that defiance, is what gave birth to the cells within the vein. The origin blood produced them—each one representing a fragment of the Garuda's undying will." Scar paused, his gaze hardening. "The most basic cells were the plasma cells—simple, mindless things. They helped the vein expand, maintaining the labyrinth."

Yan Jin nodded, recalling the numerous plasma cells he had fought within the maze.

"Then there are the red blood cells," Scar said. "They are rare and only come into being through the accumulation of the Garuda's vitality. Each one is a condensed essence of its blood's power, its lifeforce." He paused, his eyes flickering with emotion. "Even rarer are the white blood cells. They are an amalgam of the Garuda's experience, its wisdom, and its pride.

They embody fragments of its personality—its arrogance, its dreams, its refusal to be forgotten."

Yan Jin frowned slightly, beginning to piece together the strange dynamics within the labyrinth. "And the stem cell?" he asked.

Scar's eyes darkened further. "The stem cell," he said quietly, "is the sign of the Garuda's desire for rebirth. Its ability to imitate life, to create new cells, is what drives the vein's very existence. But the corruption… it changes everything."

Scar's wings shifted restlessly as he continued. "The cells were never meant to be conscious entities. They were fragments of the Garuda's will, but they weren't alive, not like you and I. But the corrupted energy… it twisted them. A mutation occurred between one of the only two white blood cells and a plasma cell."

Yan Jin's eyes widened slightly as he realized what Scar was implying. "You and… Sacha?"

Scar nodded, his expression grim. "We were the only conscious entities born of that mutation. We inherited the will and the mantle of the great Garuda. Its memories, its pride, its desire for freedom—all of it lives within us. But we are confined here, beneath the earth, within this cursed labyrinth." His voice grew quieter, filled with a deep, aching longing.

"We dream of one day soaring the skies, like emperors, free and unbound."

Yan Jin *looked* at Scar with newfound understanding. These beings, Scar and Sacha, were born from the remnants of a mighty creature's defiance against death. And yet, for all their power, they were still trapped—confined to the veins of the labyrinth, shackled by the very thing that had given them life.

"The little birds," Yan Jin murmured, his voice soft, "trapped underground, yearning to fly."

Scar's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Yes," he said, his voice sharp. "We are Garuda in name, but our wings are clipped. The corruption binds us here. And as long as it remains, we cannot be free."

Yan Jin's gaze returned to the stem cell, and for a moment, he felt the weight of the Garuda's ancient pride, its stubborn refusal to be forgotten. But more than that, he felt the deep-rooted pain of beings like Scar—creatures born from that pride, yet cursed to remain beneath the earth.

Yan Jin's voice softened as he asked the question that had been lingering in his mind. "What happened to Sacha?"

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