Neutral Planet — Vanfylion

Zianllo City – Outskirts

“Cough—cough… fuck.”

A black silhouette dragged itself upright beside the smoking wreckage. In the darkness, his golden eyes glimmered like predatory embers as he stared toward the neon-lit city in the distance.

Who the hell ambushed me…?

Shi forced down the metallic sweetness pooling in his throat, biting back another surge of pain.

Dropping from that height would have pulped any other species. Even with a last-second forced landing, the impact had shattered several of his bones.

Pain flooded him in waves—sharp, grinding, relentless—every breath a razor drawn through his ribs.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The sound echoed grotesquely through the night, followed by his strangled snarl of pain.

“Fuck—!!”

He couldn’t hold the rage in any longer, shouting into the empty air, “Whoever did this—I’ll tear your spine out and feed it to you!”

By the time he reset the last bone, his whole body trembled uncontrollably. He curled in the gravel, sweat cold on his skin, breath ragged.

He couldn’t curse anymore. The pain devoured his voice.

Chen… stay alive.

If someone kills you before I find you, I’ll drag them out of the afterlife myself.

Sametime, Unknown Location

“Tell me their coordinates.”

The voice drifted through the chamber like a blade drawn slowly across glass—too calm, too soft, too deliberate.

In the centre of the vast room, Xiao hung suspended from the ceiling.

Energy-lock cuffs forced his wrists above his head.

His legs dangled uselessly.

His entire weight dragged against the restraints until the metal edges sank deep into skin, slicing along nerves designed to sense even the slightest shift in gravity.

Pain throbbed like a heartbeat.

Every pulse carved deeper.

Xiao’s vision wavered.

He lifted his head anyway—out of pride, not strength.

His lips cracked open.

“I’ll… never tell you… you bastard…”

A low laugh.

Not amused—

pleased.

“So loyal already? Xiao. Tian. Xiao…”

Footsteps echoed across the polished floor.

“You really are Chen’s most obedient little hound.”

Yin stood before him, idly twirling a metal scourge between his fingers.

The alloy was etched with microscopic barbs—

a material Teleopean nervous systems responded to with maximum sensitivity.

The metal keened under pressure—

a thin, predatory sound.

Yin lifted the whip handle and pressed it beneath Xiao’s chin, forcing his head up.

“I admire your discipline,” Yin said gently. “Most men break long before I touch them. But you… you make this interesting.”

Xiao’s breath trembled in his chest.

“Yin… no—

you’re not Yin.

Who are you?”

The man tilted his head, expression soft—almost affectionate.

Then he smiled.

And Xiao’s blood ran cold.

That smile did not belong to any version of Yin he knew.

“I am Yin,” the man said.

“But not the Yin your timeline raised.”

He dropped Xiao’s chin.

The metal barbs tore a bone-deep gash across his jaw.

Golden blood spilled, warm against cold skin.

Xiao’s body jerked, but he swallowed the sound that clawed at his throat.

The whip was engineered for a single purpose:

to make a Teleopean’s pain feel like their own mind turning against them.

“Kill me,” Xiao spat hoarsely. “If you’re going to do it, then do it.”

“Kill you?” Yin’s voice went flat.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

“You’re a tool, Xiao. A convenient piece. Nothing more.”

He circled Xiao once, slow and methodical, like a scientist examining a specimen.

“My target is your master—the ‘Continuation.’”

His voice sharpened.

“He is still on this planet.”

Yin’s hand shot out.

He grabbed Xiao’s hair and yanked his head back until Xiao’s spine strained against its limits.

“Tell me where he is.”

“Go to hell!!”

CRACK.

The sound was clean.

Efficient.

A single twist—

and Xiao’s neck broke.

A broken neck wouldn’t kill a Teleopean, but the effect was immediate:
Xiao’s entire body went slack, nerves severed from command, paralysis locking him in place for hours.

His body fell limp, unable to respond.

Yin released him, letting him swing from the cuffs like a broken puppet.

“Uncooperative.”

Yin’s tone held no irritation.

Only calculation.

“And so very predictable.”

Xiao glared through the paralysis, hatred burning bright.

Yin smiled faintly.

The expression did not reach his eyes.

“Since you won’t talk, I’ll use you instead. Bait is often more effective than information.”

He leaned close, breath cool against Xiao’s ear.

“That master of yours… and that meddlesome half-breed… they’ll come running.”

Half… breed?

Xiao’s thoughts stuttered.

Who is Yin talking about?

Yin seemed to enjoy the confusion.

“This planet offers many amusements,” he whispered.

“And the wealthy come here seeking… unusual thrills.”

Xiao’s pulse hammered.

“What do you plan to do?” he rasped.

Yin’s fingertips traced along Xiao’s cheekbone—

slow, deliberate, obscene in their gentleness.

“Foreign collectors pay obscene sums for our kind,” Yin murmured.

“One specimen—properly restrained—could fund an entire rebellion… especially one such as you.”

His smile widened, showing a sliver more teeth.

“If I auctioned you off like a rare animal… do you think they’d come to save you?”

“You—! Selling our own kind to outsiders is treason! Yin, you’re insane!”

Xiao’s voice cracked with fury—

and terror.

Yin’s eyes warmed, almost tender.

“Insane?” he whispered.

“No, Xiao. I simply… don’t belong to your laws.”

He straightened, the softness draining from his face.

“Guards,” Yin said, his voice slicing through the room.

“Prepare him.”

Metal boots approached from the shadows.

“We have a very valuable product to display.”