Yuan Xuelan had expected to find himself in control of his alternate self, the insufferable emperor that ruled with an iron fist.
But when his consciousness returned from the strange haze, Xuelan found himself suspended in a vast darkness.
He couldn't move his limbs, couldn't see beyond the barrier of suffocating black. A deep dread settled in his gut, an understanding.
'I know you're there, whoever you are,' a distorted voice snarled.
Yuan Xuelan's thoughts echoed, but quiet. 'You won't be able to hold me back for long,' His thoughts echoed with equal aggression.
He fought the feeling of numbness, reclaiming his senses bit by bit. Control was difficult to maintain but eventually the world began to unfold with clarity. Much like earlier where he floated around like a wispy ghost, Yuan Xuelan found himself as a spectator. Only this time, he had a front row seat.
…
"What should we do with the bodies, Your Imperial Majesty?"
