I closed my eyes for about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea. Then the floor of the circular room suddenly trembled. It was not a violent shake, more like someone striking a wall far beneath us. The vibration traveled up through some medium and made the legs of the chair I was sitting on quiver slightly.
Ah Hui lifted its head from my lap and turned its ears forward. The green line tightened once around the base of the chair leg, then loosened. Fu’s humming stopped for a brief moment, then resumed.
I opened my eyes. The complete figure was still standing in front of the chair. It had not moved, but its fingers had spread slightly, as if sensing information rising from the floor. Its silvery-white eyes turned toward me, and there was a look in them I had never seen before.
“Something in the lowest layer has awakened.”
“What is it?”
“Something from an even earlier layer than me,” the complete figure said. “It existed before you built the house. I told you that when I arrived, the place was empty, but empty doesn’t mean there was nothing there. Back then, the entire space was empty, and at the end of that emptiness stood a wall. There was something behind it. I never opened that wall.”
The floor trembled again. This time it was more noticeable, and the chair I was sitting on rocked half an inch. Ah Hui jumped off my lap, landed on all fours, arched its back, and let out a deep growl. The green line loosened from the chair leg, slid across the floor to my feet, and curled into a ring, its tail tip quivering.
Fu’s silver light began to flicker.
The complete figure took two steps toward the center of the circular room. It raised the hand hanging at its side, palm down, and pressed it toward the floor. As it pressed down,
