When sparks from the starship keel welding exploded in the night sky, Ji Shi was leaning on the energy conduit of the Creation Furnace, his fingertips wrapped around the last golden feather Qingluan had fallen. Amidst the hissing sound of cooling metal, Golden Feather suddenly felt slightly hot, traveling along the veins of the source core between his wrists, burning fleeting star patterns on the surface of his skin.
