Though Dan Heng stormed away to his room and sealed the airlock behind him, making it so entry was prohibited and Ren wouldn't follow him, he was too entry to even dream of sleeping. When one's home existed in the cold vacuum of space, when Space Anchors could teleport them wherever they wished, a Nameless didn't really have a sense of time. If they didn't play catch-up depending on the planet they were on or the star system they were in, they merely went to sleep whenever their body couldn't stay awake any longer. This might have been one of those times, but he couldn't. Dan Heng stared listlessly at his futon, comforter, and pillow that he hadn't bothered to fold away for the day, something about it weighing him. Like he was staring at the precipice of a cliff and wondering if he should just walk off. Into what? He had no wish to die. Not until he exhausted every century of this lifetime and reached its penultimate end. Then, and only then, would he accept death as his people knew it and pray his new life would want the same freedom he'd worked so hard for.
By then, he hoped Ren would be dead. Dan Heng's attention was jarred when he overheard the sound of Stelle and March gossiping concernedly outside his door, speaking of the then long-gone Stellaron Hunter that had caused some damage to one of the Parlor doors, but they relented and left him be. The sound of muffled footfalls retreating caused his hackles to lower, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he lowered himself to his workstation, booted up the Archival module, and lost himself in his work that always did wonders to take the edge off. The clacking of the keyboard keys and flickering of the monitor against the lenses of his reading glasses was a familiar preoccupation for him, whisking his mind away from the unpleasant conversation.
Dan Heng's own ruthlessness wasn't lost on him. This was crueler than he normally was or had the heart to be, but he wondered if Ren could ever hope to conceive how deep his ruination ran... all because Dan Heng had been hunted. His problems had already run deep during his time in the Shackling Prison when he hadn't known how to speak for decades, but Ren had gifted him a level of paranoia, uneasiness, and flightiness he could never take back. Because of Ren, the time in which he could've learned how to be a person instead only taught him to be prey, scavenging for scraps of human interaction and company that had only worsened into a dysfunction he was ashamed to name but couldn't reverse no matter how much he wanted to. It was why Dan Heng could ignore Ren's pleas and threaten to destroy these precious items because tearing into the swordsman, however viscerally and emotionally, however much it couldn't get back those pieces of himself that had been taken away, felt so much better than nothing.
For once in his life, this unkillable abomination was being forced to feel the pain Dan Heng had forced to endure most of his sham of a free life.
When he awoke the next morning, a feeling of guilt and nausea gripped his gut and chest and made consciousness almost unbearable, but he forced himself to power through it. He awoke earlier than usual, readying himself quickly before planning and cooking breakfast for everyone before they realized he'd left. Of course, Himeko and Welt already knew what Dan Heng had planned today, but he was certain they'd expected to at least see him off. As much as he loved his found family, this was one thing he had to face alone. Just like the invitation Jingliu had bestowed on him the year previous, this was no different.
Before long, he found a Space Anchor, charted a destination for the Luofu, and was gone before anyone would realize he was gone.
For a ship as large as a planet, the Luofu experienced day and night depending on the delve one visited. The Alchemy Commission was enveloped in a heavy mist, fog rolling from the Ancient Sea that made it impossible to see even the waves that lapped the boardwalk. Dan Heng chartered a seaskiff to take him to Dragonvista Rainhall where the statue of the High Elder was located, and amid the sea-washed murals and grayed flagstones, Ren stood like a crow. Black as night, ashen from his despair.
Wordlessly, Dan Heng gave him wide berth and scanned the base of the state where a small compartment was sealed by Cloudhymn magic that he ensured as a failsafe so it would keep the items secure.
Without waiting for Ren, Dan Heng produced the bracer, earrings, and jade pendant that he placed within the drawer-shaped compartment and did so with a leaden kind of heaviness, then turning expectantly to Ren.
It was clear that the man had fallen into a state of despair no matter how stoic his exterior seemed. Though it was difficult to tell given how unhealthy his pallor appeared, he looked... haggard. Dan Heng remembered he had been crying before their conversation had been cut short, a level of despair he seemed to be sinking into. The silence between them was oppressive, and heavy, and reflected the turmoil in both men despite how cool Dan Heng tried to play it.
Dan Heng stepped away when he'd placed his half of the artifacts, piqued when the swordsman hesitated, frowning openly.
