Furrowing his brow, he concentrated, and the misty, charcoal grey swathes folded into themselves, before blinding the temple with light.

The world around them melted away, leaving nothing but-

Warped walls surrounded them, dim and weathered. The air simply traced in flames, their edges blurring and soft against the harsh black of the room. The scent of roses, of incense and aphrodisiac attacked their senses, and hazily, they could make out was a single, ornate table,  seated with rows upon rows of women, clad scantily. Their robes either hung off them loosely, too loosely for any comfort, or clung onto them too tightly, or promiscuously for the lack of a better word. Every Cultivator dressed in mourning clothes averted their eyes, except for Lan Jingyi,  whose mouth was hanging wide open, only to have his eyes covered by Lan Sizhui. The man whose memories this was, was both terrified and terrifying, eyes flashing with mania and hatred. He wanted nothing more than to lash and lunge out at Wei Wuxian, but the talisman, so cleverly designed, kept him at bay. He would try to escape, but he knew that the Yiling Laozu's talisman was most likely virtually unbreakable.

Snapping his fingers, Wei Wuxian pointed to someone. Behind the tables lurked a familiar silhouette, that of none other than Meng Yao. As if on command, their eyes snapped open to where he pointed. Lan Xichen's eyes widened in horror, but at this point he'd seen so much of what his brother, his sworn brother, had done, that this didn't hurt him as much at it would have, or should have,  but the Juniors...they looked on in abrupt horror, as the dwarf splashed gasoline on the women, not seeming to care how unsightly it was , before lighting a match, and throwing it. 

The match took hold of the first woman, who carried such authority with her that one could only assume she was the owner of this brothel. Within seconds, she caught on fire, and excruciating screams could be hurt as the smell of singed flesh and smoke, only worsening as the fire spread,  and the whole world erupted in flames. Heat rolled off the brothel in throes, engulfing them in chaos of flame and smoke, and bone-chilling shrieks that tore out through the wall. As the unmistakable figure snuck out, the brothel before them dissipated, leaving behind ancient wooden frames and towering heights.

Unclean Realm. Home. Almost. he'd been here for so long, he knew the place like the back of his palm, but something called out to him here, even stronger than it did before. He didn't need to look to know what Meng Yao did. He could sense it, even here, as his former sworn brother played warped tunes to Nie Mingjue, could tell as he dealt him the final blow of resentment, simmering in the air. His resentment energy was not the same as Master Wei's. It was weaker, more sinister, but all he could think of was...

-Lan Huan's POV -

 So all they said was true. I mean, I knew all they said was true, but some small treacherous part of me still hoped even as evidence piled up. I wish some part of me wasn't so blind, so naive. Why is it that after all these years, I've never been able to find someone worth loving? Why is it that every time I love or trust someone, the person never turns out to be real? All I fall in love with are masks. I almost envy Wangji, now, looking at Meng Yao playing the flute- the altered tune to Da-Ge. The only person in the end, who was worth loving, was the one person I never protected. How stupid can I get?

 I don't dare to look at him, or Wangji, for that matter. I can't imagine how he'd look like now. Grinning widely in pride? Smiling at his success? I don't know. I don't want to know. How would Wangji look at me now? I loved, helped the person who plotted Wei-Gongzi's demise, trusted him more than I did Wangji. And what does that say about me? I'm as foolish as Father was. Maybe even more foolish. Ge's eyes furrowed in frustration, and the world around us seems to grow more charged by the minute. How did I not realize this? The atmosphere around us is simmering, and his magic licks me like flames, prickling, familiar. If only he were still here. But he isn't, and I almost laugh at that. I remember hating my father when I was a child. I hated his blind love, his blind loyalty to his clan, and to our mother, that shackled and bond her to that small hut that she hated being bound to. But I'm no different. Only worse. For as much as I complained about him,  I fell in love with a mask, with a façade, and I gave everything away.  Nie- Ge, 对不起。 真的，真的对不起。 让你失望了。 没相信你。 对不起。

-End Of POV-

In this Game of Life, one of the hardest things to say is "Thank You," and "I'm sorry".

In this life, one can mourn and cherish the lives of many, and countless words will slip through one's mouth. But the words 'Thank you' and 'I'm sorry' only ever mean one thing. Lacking.

But before anything, the sight of Unclean Realm was swept away, leaving behind the tall, bloodied cliffs of Nightless City...The familiar, warped arches of the Unclean Realm were ripped away, replaced by unforgiving cliffs of onyx and crimson, stained and drenched in rain, blood and tears. A sight none of the elders wished to see. A sight that the youngsters seemed to awe. But all it invoked was the drying up of the gut, and memories none of them would ever forget. Could never forget. A city that none of them would wander to, a city so entangled with greed and bloodshed, that none would ever visit. But obligation beckoned. And the truth? The truth was far more important than anything, a weight they unanimously agreed to bear. A weight that some crumbled under, the weight that some strove to thrive under and for.

The sulfuric tang of acid and decay prickled their senses, muddied, entwined and entangled with the sweet, sickly smell of lotuses , infiltrating their senses. To both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, this scene was surreal, something neither wished to relive. Something from a lifetime ago, a decade ago,a I'm-not-leaving ago. Wei Ying's hand slipped through the other's, and small, reassuring nods were exchanged, but the scene at hand was nothing but reassuring. 

If the Chief Cultivator was nervous earlier, his anxiousness before was nothing as compared to now. He blanched  paler than that of Lan robes, and his eyes darted around, seeking escape, any. But it was an escape that he'd never find. Flitting around, his gaze landed on the Second Jade of Lan, who glared at him icily . Funny. How the two Jades of Lan looked alike, but yet so different. Lan Huan had never looked at him like that, only ever looked at him with warmth and kindness, kindness and generosity that he took advantage of, too many times.  But Lan Wangji's eyes were as sharp as daggers, cutting through his soul, sending a bone-chilling shiver down his spine. Soon, Meng Yao found himself drenched in a veil of cold sweat, and decided to avert his gaze, avoiding things he'd done so long ago, and never wished to see again. Running. Escaping. Resisting. 

Wei Wuxian could feel opposition pulsing through the ball of slivers between his palm, and he frowned, glaring at the short toad, only to find him staring back at him. This bastard. The truth will be revealed one way or another. So he pushed against reflexive slivers of resistance, fiercely, adamant the truth be freed, as it should have been years ago.

But however much Wei Wuxian tried to shake off Meng Yao, he couldn't completely cut him off. This was his brain, after all. His memories, but still, he rammed his power forward, making sure these deeds were exposed. But this time, his memory came in flashes. Incomprehensible flashes, to most except a few. . The unmistakable, slunken figure of the Chief Cultivator pressed against a cliff, sneaking warily. A brilliant vermilion mark hovering above a carved tourmaline flute. A winding, deliberate tune weaved its way through the disciples, that stirred up something within them, a sense of dread, odious and looming, before coming to an abrupt halt. Then came a blinding swirl of gold on gilt, a clash of swords, parrying, deflecting and lunging forward, an uneven match, before a sly glint of silver shot forward, embedding itself within a gold, once-proud chest. A once-complacent heart.

Distantly, he could hear Jin Ling gasping. It was the only glimpse of his father he'd had for years, after all. But there was so much explaining to do and so little time.  Not my fault, was all Wei Ying thought of, trying to reassure himself as familiar faces showed in his view of vision. A fond face, one he knew so well, and one he sorely missed. A face, that, if all had gone well, would still be his as he was now, another, of a friend, a brother he'd nearly lost. Squeezing his beloved's hand, relaxing, he let the diorama he memorized for so long play out.

He'd let his best friend kill his brother-in-law. Let the chains sting him, slash him and scar him, before ending him. Before he ended his own life.

A familiar yet not-so-familiar face cut across their eyes, sullen and sunken, drawn and tired. Eyes that once crinkled with joy were replaced by virtually lifeless eyes, that seemed almost blank, were it not for the slight spark within it. Eyes that glittered with tears, bittersweet, and cheeks encrusted with dust, grime and blood. Lips that drew themselves into a grotesque, sad smile, that grew more and more distant, that blurred, before vanishing into nothing, letting go of the other's hand, slipping out of his bloodied arm's grasp. Whose sorrow could be heard, even through his silence. 

"Wei Ying,"  the actual Lan Zhan's arms shot out, swiftly drawing his distraught soulmate into his embrace. Shaking badly, Wei Ying clung on to Lan Zhan, gripping him tightly. His shoulder grew wet with tears, but to him, nothing else mattered as much as Wei Ying did. He patted, his soulmate's back, rubbing his back in circles, repeating words like a mantra. 'You're okay. You'll be fine. I'm here. You're not alone. "

"Let go."

 Then Nightless City melted before them, and they were back where they'd first began. As the world around them dissolved back into the temple, Wei Wuxian continued trembling, snuggling closer to the his soulmate's chest. For a while, even if they were surrounded by many, it was as if the world was nothing but a little orb around them. The world was pure oblivion, but nothing mattered more to them than the person next to them. It had never been the first time, and would never be their last. 

" To the last of our breaths,"  they whispered,alone again, even as chaos ensued, and explaining? There was thus much explaining to do. 

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A/N: 1904 words! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and how are you guys?