Identity Exposed (Part 2)

Before the electrified mist fully dissipated, Tidal fired her decisive strike.

A beam over two meters in diameter blasted downward, carving a clean, circular hole into the ground.

Presumably due to its core sustaining a fatal wound, the writhing green tendrils suddenly convulsed in unison—making their final, dying struggle.

Soon, their green hue faded, turning ashen gray. Deprived of strength, they collapsed onto the floor, dissolving into white magic particles, returning to the natural cycle.

“It’s over.”

Tidal exhaled. She’d been worried whether her attack had reached the aberration’s core—but now, it seemed her fears were unfounded.

“That was insane!”

Huangxing, witnessing Tidal’s full-power output for the first time, was stunned.

She excitedly flew down to the first floor, eager to see how deep the hole was—only to be driven back by intense heat before she could get close.

“Whoa! So hot!”

Huangxing quickly ascended back to Tidal’s side.

“Lao Lin, what was that thing?”

“…”

Lao Lin didn’t answer immediately. He stared solemnly at the hole.

Tidal sensed something was off. In her memory, Shangjing, as a City zone, hadn’t seen large-scale aberrations in years.

For creatures of such size, there was no place to hide in a densely populated urban area. Once exposed, they’d be targeted and eliminated by magical girls or the Special Operations Bureau.

Thus, Cities were never their hunting grounds. The abandoned Wilderness—that was their true domain.

“…I have a theory. Let’s go down and check.”

Lao Lin leapt from Huangxing’s shoulder onto Tidal’s.

“Go down?”

“Yes. Into the hole you made.”

Tidal shared the same thought, so she acted immediately. She erected a barrier around herself—to block the heat and protect against potential threats below.

After preparation, she descended toward the opening, lowering herself slowly.

After a fixed time of descent, Tidal felt a strange unease.

She’d slowed her speed to observe carefully. Yet even so, in these few minutes, she should’ve dropped fifty to sixty meters.

Logically, no matter how powerful her attack, it shouldn’t have caused damage of this scale.

Yet as Tidal continued descending, the dark space below showed no sign of ending—and was growing wider.

At first, the hole was only two or three meters wide. Now, it had expanded into a cavern large enough to hold hundreds.

Tidal floated within it, feeling like a deep-sea diver. The sunlight from above was gone. Beneath her—endless, pitch-black abyss.

Fear of the unknown, awareness of her own insignificance—it made her shiver.

Now, Tidal could only be certain of one thing: This underground chasm already existed. Her attack had merely opened a doorway into it.

“I think I understand.”

Lao Lin’s voice came from her shoulder.

“Quick—we need to go back.”

His voice trembled. Clearly, he wanted out of this place as fast as possible.

Tidal agreed. She gathered her magic and shot upward like a bullet.

The descent had taken minutes. The ascent—mere seconds.

Back on the surface, Tidal gasped for breath.

It wasn’t from magic or stamina depletion. It was pure, internal dread—oppressive, suffocating.

Where did this abyss lead? What lay at its end? What had she just fought?

With countless questions, she turned to Lao Lin on her shoulder.

“The tendrils you destroyed… weren’t an aberration. Or rather, not a single aberration.”

“You mean… it was just a part?”

During her descent, Tidal had vaguely suspected the same. But the idea was too terrifying, too surreal—she hadn’t dared speak it.

“Yes.”

Lao Lin nodded, then offered a metaphor:

“Like an iceberg floating on the sea. Though its mass is enormous, only a tiny fraction is visible above the surface.”

“At the end of this abyss… lies something vast—beyond anything you or I can imagine. The tendrils that surfaced? Maybe just one of tens of thousands of its limbs.”

His voice shook with fear.

“Your attack didn’t kill it. It only hurt it—so it retracted that limb. Like a human instinctively pulling back a fingertip from a sharp object. That’s all.”

Hearing Lao Lin’s theory, Tidal’s face turned pale.

“Then… what is it? Are you saying there’s a colossal aberration lurking beneath Shangjing?”

“Heh…”

At her words, Lao Lin let out a cold laugh.

“Shangjing has a colossal aberration lurking beneath it.”

He repeated Tidal’s sentence.

“…What if it’s the other way around? What if we just happened to build a city on top of it?”

Tidal said nothing. A wave of cold dread spread from her spine to her entire body.

In a moment that should’ve been terrifying, she almost wanted to laugh.

If their theory was correct… then the world’s absurdity and madness were just like this bottomless pit—truly endless.

“In any case, this is a critical event that must be reported immediately to Magic Kingdom and the Special Operations Bureau.”

With that, Lao Lin leapt from Tidal’s shoulder, landing on the ground.

“I’m leaving. I probably won’t come to Earth for a few days. You two act freely. Just stay safe.”

“…Got any cigarettes?”

He glanced back at Tidal—then realized he’d asked a pointless question.

“What will happen to this place?” Tidal asked.

She looked around at the shops, many of which held memories of dates with Chen Xi. At the thought, a pang of attachment and sorrow struck her.

“Probably won’t reopen. Not that I blame them… such a shame.”

Muttering this lament, Lao Lin’s form gradually faded from view.

Not far away, Huangxing seemed to be talking to You Xi. The former looked agitated; the latter just listened, numb and silent.

Why didn’t she transform before the fight? Tidal finally had time to wonder.

—You Dong?

Suddenly, Chen Xi’s voice came from behind—cold, sharp, unexpected.