Chapter 7: The Price of Seeing

Darkness did not come all at once.

It folded over Li Mei slowly, like ink spreading through water. Sound vanished first—the whispers, the roaring voices, even her own breath. Sight followed, the corridor dissolving into nothingness. Only sensation remained.

Weightless. Bound. Watched.

Then—light.

Li Mei gasped as the world snapped back into focus. She stood barefoot on cold stone, the air sharp with the scent of ash and incense. Before her rose towering pillars carved with symbols she did not recognize, each etched with countless eyes—open, weeping, screaming.

A temple.

The same one she had seen burning in the mask’s memories.

Her heart thundered. “This isn’t real,” she whispered.

“It is as real as truth,” a voice replied.

She turned. The veiled figure stood behind her now, no longer drifting but solid, grounded. The Thousand-Eyed Mask upon its face no longer smiled. Its eyes were open—all of them—staring into her with unbearable intensity.

“You wanted answers,” the figure said, its voice steady, familiar. “So the mask has brought you where all bearers come eventually.”

Li Mei’s throat tightened. “You’re me.”

The figure tilted its head. “I am what remains.”

The temple trembled. Images flickered along the walls—visions bleeding into one another. Warriors kneeling before the mask. Kings begging for foresight. Mothers pleading for lost children. Each reached for the artifact with desperation etched into their faces.

And every time, the mask answered.

Power. Knowledge. Salvation.

And then—hollow eyes. Empty shells.

“They all made choices,” the figure continued. “Just as you are making yours.”

Li Mei shook her head. “I didn’t choose this. The mask chose me.”

A low, almost sorrowful hum rippled through the chamber.

“No,” the figure corrected. “You accepted it.”

The Thousand-Eyed Mask on Li Mei’s face grew heavier. Its hum deepened, vibrating through her bones. She felt it pressing inward now—not painfully, but insistently. Like a question waiting for an answer.

“Every eye you open shows you more of the world,” the figure said. “But every truth you see takes something in return.”

“What does it take?” Li Mei demanded.

The figure raised a hand. The air split open like torn fabric, revealing another vision—Li Mei herself, standing victorious over an unseen enemy, the mask blazing with light. And then another vision—her alone, kneeling in darkness, the mask fused to her flesh, her voice gone, her name forgotten.

“It takes you,” the figure said softly.

The temple began to collapse, stone cracking, eyes along the walls screaming soundlessly. Li Mei felt herself being pulled apart—memories tugged from her mind, emotions unraveling. Fear surged, sharp and raw.

“No,” she whispered. “I won’t disappear.”

The mark on her palm flared.

Light exploded outward, forcing the visions back. The figure staggered for the first time, its composure breaking as cracks spread across its mask.

“You still resist,” it said, almost surprised.

Li Mei clenched her fist. “I’ll pay the price,” she said, voice trembling but firm. “But I decide how much.”

The temple froze.

For a heartbeat, the Thousand-Eyed Mask was silent.

Then it spoke—not in warning, not in command—but in quiet anticipation.

“Then choose carefully, bearer. The next truth you ask for… cannot be returned.”

The ground beneath Li Mei gave way.

As she fell into blinding light, one question echoed through her mind—

What would she sacrifice first… her past, her future, or the last piece of herself that still felt human?

To be continued…