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【Manila | Miguel】

Near midnight, the barbershop had already closed.

I was still sitting outside on a low stool, polishing the last pair of shoes.

The man looked down and clicked his tongue.

"That's it? You call this clean?"

I wiped again. He pulled his foot back, dropped the coins beside my wooden shoeshine box, then spat on the ground right beside my stool — close enough that it almost hit me.

Black shoe polish was stuck under my nails. My palms were cracked. In my phone, there was still a plan — a small stand of my own, a sign with my own name.

I leaned over the wooden shoeshine box.

One second before sleep, something inside my chest loosened.

Like a thin thread slipping free.

03:17 | Attraction Space Radar House — Anomalous energy disturbance detected.

A Fate Mark thread detected, coming loose at the edge of sleep, forcibly drawn by a resonance source.

Recording residual consciousness fragments from the Fate Mark —

The first sensation was straw.

Rough fibers scraped across my fingers. Dust floated low in the morning air. A small cut had opened on the side of my thumb, but the hands kept moving.

Twist.

Pull.

Tighten.

Straw mats leaned against the wall. Straw sandals hung from a wooden frame. The street in Zhuo County was only beginning to wake.

A woman stopped, touched one pair of sandals, asked the price, then shook her head and walked away.

A cart rolled past, splashing mud near the stall.

This body lowered its head without thinking.

Not out of fear.

Out of habit.

Then someone pasted a notice near the market gate.

The paper was still wet with paste. People gathered around it, reading aloud in broken pieces.

The Yellow Turbans had risen.

The court was calling for men.

A few men cursed.

Most looked at the notice, then looked away.

The humiliation inside the residual soul stirred.

The hands went still.

The unfinished sandal slipped from the fingers and fell beside the stool.

He looked once more at the notice on the wall.

No drum sounded.

No banner rose.

No one called his name.

Only the morning wind moved through Zhuo County.

Then this body stood up.

【Liu Bei】

This morning, while weaving straw sandals, I heard the call to fight the Yellow Turbans.

Something faint entered my chest.

【First-Step Fate Mark】

Beginning · Gathering · Refusing to remain low

The residual soul was pulled inward.

For one breath, two lives overlapped.

One man had lowered his head outside a barbershop.

One man had lowered his head beside a poor stall.

Both had almost believed that low places were all they deserved.

Then Liu Bei's Fate Mark swallowed the residual soul.

Not to erase it.

But to turn shame into fire.

In the late Eastern Han, Liu Bei began in poverty. He once sold straw mats and straw sandals before entering the chaos of the age.

When the Yellow Turban Rebellion broke out, he gathered men and took his first step into a collapsing world.

Before armies, before oaths, before his name carried weight across the realm, there was an earlier moment:

a poor man with straw in his hands,

and a thought he finally refused to bury.

Radar signal ends.

Tonight, we enter the dream slowly — through soft felt piano sleep music, and through these two frequencies.

88 Hz — Helps light up the energy of beginning, making it easier to take the first step.

333 Hz — Helps gather focus, allowing your direction and next action to become clearer.

If you'd like to learn more about the full effect of these two Hz frequencies in this episode, and to check your fortune for today, visit my website to draw your Three Kingdoms character card, experience tarot readings, raise your spirit egg, and and mini-games:explore other features:

👉 https://three-kingdoms-sleep-fate-cards.pages.dev/

— zzz… zzt……

Radar House v1.1 — Fate Mark Module Log.

Fate Mark Record: Archived.

Residual soul fragment: dissolved.

This time, the ripples in Meng Po's pool spread outward.

Not because someone knelt in the distance. Not because fear had sunk to the bottom. It was that oath from the Peach Garden — the moment it left their lips, it shook straight down into the water.

The smell of wine rose first. Then, faint and far, the salt of the sea.

03:17 | Radar House — Dream Entry Well: reverse activation. High-intensity oath resonance detected. Ancient vow and future betrayal locked onto the same frequency. Beginning to record dream entry path —

The incense hadn't cleared in the Peach Garden.

The three of them had just bowed to heaven and earth. Zhang Fei's laugh shook loose petals from the branches above. Liu Bei's eyes held something steady — not bravado, but the look of a man who had just believed in something real.

Guan Yu sat beneath the peach tree, long beard resting against his chest, wine bowl still in his hand.

The words were still pressing on his heart:

Though we could not be born in the same year, the same month, and the same day, we are willing to leave this world in the same year, the same month, and the same day.

He drank the wine down. The warmth sank through him. The torches slowly blurred and faded.

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, it was 2026.

The crew had been surrounded.

Police lights came from every direction, white and blinding. Everyone scattered. He ran to the docks. Sea air hit him sharp and salty. Boots behind him getting closer.

He looked back.

The brother he had bled for stood next to a police officer.

Arm raised. Finger pointed straight at him.

"It was him."

Three words.

He stood at the edge of the dock and looked at that face. Didn't say anything.

Then he turned and jumped.

Black water rushed in. Those three words still in his ears. He sank — through every night they had drunk together, through every time he had taken a hit meant for someone else — all the way to the bottom.

Only one thought still had light left in it:

You don't call someone brother lightly. Once you do, you owe it your life.

Then something floated up through the black water.

A peach blossom. Then another. Then a third.

The salt slowly left the water. A night breeze crossed his face, carrying the faint smell of incense ash.

A voice came from far away. Unhurried. Steady.

Yun Chang.

Guan Yu opened his eyes.

Still under the peach tree. Wine bowl tipped at his feet, petals on his robe. Liu Bei still there. Zhang Fei still there. Torches still burning.

He said nothing about what he had seen.

Only looked down at his own hand.

That hand could still hold a blade. And it could still hold the oath he had just sworn.

From that night on, loyalty meant something different to him. Not the warmth you feel when someone has your back — but what he had carried back up from the bottom of that black water. Betrayed, left to drown, and still refusing to become the one who points the finger.

Loyalty isn't what you shout when things are good.

It's what you hold onto after someone throws it away.

Later, he rode through five passes and cut down six generals. Cao Cao offered him gold, rank, and the finest horse alive.

Guan Yu still left.

Not because he couldn't see what was being offered.

Because after that night in the Peach Garden, he knew —

The moment loyalty breaks, the person you were breaks with it.

Late Eastern Han. The oath at the Peach Garden was a line three men drew for themselves in a world coming apart. History remembers his strength, his devotion. What it cannot record is the weight pressing on his heart the moment before he closed his eyes — and how much it still weighed when he woke up.

Radar signal ends.

I accidentally turned my game UI into a living clown face

I was building a small browser-based rant / stress-relief game.

At first, it was just a normal “Rant Game” button.

Then I noticed something strange: the egg icon and radar icon looked like two eyes, and the rant button underneath looked like a mouth.

So I added a small red clown nose.

Now the nose moves, the eyes blink, and the mouth slowly smiles.

It turned a normal game button into a tiny living clown face.

【New York｜Ryan】

We didn't have a big fight.

The words just broke off halfway. He looked at me, I looked at him, like we were waiting to see who would back down first.

No one spoke.

He turned and walked away.

I froze for two seconds. Regret surged up instantly. I bolted after him.

He had just crossed the intersection. The red light was on. I didn't stop.

Just a few steps short.

A sharp screech of brakes tore through the air. Tires ground violently against the pavement. Someone was screaming, but I couldn't make it out. The entire street tilted without warning.

I was still desperately trying to lunge forward.

But my body stayed where it was.

At the moment of impact, a small piece of "me" was knocked hard out of my chest, out of my body.

Then I kept falling, dragged away relentlessly.

02:11 | Radar House — Anomalous energy disturbance detected. Residual soul has separated at the boundary of consciousness fracture, forcibly drawn in by Fate Mark resonance. Target confirmed: Wang Yun. Beginning to record residual soul fragments —

The first feeling was tightness.

Not physical tightness — the tightness was in the mind. Too many things spinning at once. This person's mind had never stopped for a single moment.

I am Wang Yun.

Dong Zhuo is still alive. Every piece of news coming out of his residence every day makes it harder to breathe. The people at court are either kneeling or dead.

I cannot kneel. But I haven't died yet. So there is only one path left — set a trap.

Diaochan stands before me. She knows what I need her to do. I know that she knows.

I didn't ask her if she was willing. Because I knew that if I asked, she would say yes — and then I would spend the rest of my life unsure whether that "yes" was real or something she said for my sake.

So I didn't ask.

First, I send her to Dong Zhuo. Let Dong Zhuo see her. Then let Lü Bu see her too. Then let both men believe she belongs to them.

It is not Diaochan deceiving them. It is me deceiving them. She only stands there — I have already laid every step in place for her.

Dong Zhuo begins to suspect Lü Bu. Lü Bu begins to hate Dong Zhuo. The two most fearsome men start tearing into each other.

The trap is complete.

【Wang Yun】 Sitting alone tonight, I suddenly felt a thread of cold slide across my chest, as if something had passed through my thoughts, making one full circuit. Then the feeling was gone. I don't know what it was.

【Schemer Fate Mark】 Laying the trap · Setting the fuse · Closing the net …has infiltrated. This body is too thin — layer after layer, all thought for others. For himself, not even one layer remains. Could not be stopped. Soul fragment extraction: 1/3. Perceptual sovereignty — transferred.

Eastern Han dynasty, late era. Dong Zhuo entered the capital and seized power; court ministers dared to be angry but not to speak. Grand Counselor Wang Yun placed his adopted daughter Diaochan at the center of a chain stratagem — first promising Diaochan to Lü Bu, then presenting her to Dong Zhuo, turning the two men against each other. Lü Bu ultimately assassinated Dong Zhuo, and all under heaven rejoiced. Yet after Dong Zhuo's death, Wang Yun failed to stabilize the court, and was soon struck down by Dong Zhuo's former forces. The one who set the trap became part of the trap — and never walked off his own chessboard.

Radar signal ends.

— zzz… zzt……

Radar House v1.1 — Fate Mark Module record. Fate Mark Record #005: Sealing anomaly. Residual soul fragments: fully recovered.

[Lagos | Chinua]

My stall was by the roadside — plastic sheet over an iron frame, phone parts lined up in a row.

Someone said it to me again today: "You're so good at this — why don't you open your own shop?"

I smiled. Didn't answer.

The money I've saved is actually enough. It was enough last month.

But I'm afraid there won't be any business. Afraid the rent will crush me. Afraid of going from "the guy who fixes phones" to "the guy who owes his landlord."

After packing up, I sat by the iron frame. A generator hummed in the distance. The streetlights flickered on and off.

Leaning against the parts bin, my eyelids grew heavy. A small piece of myself inside my body suddenly came loose — as if something pulled it out from my chest, dragging it down, sinking into somewhere deep and very hot.

02:33 | Attraction Space Radar House — Anomalous energy disturbance detected. A Fate Mark thread detected. Remnant soul coming loose at the edge of sleep, forcibly drawn by a resonance source. Recording remnant soul fragments —

The first sensation was cold.

Bare earth underfoot. The robes on my body still carried the sweat of a long escape. I was standing in a low, cramped courtyard.

I was Cao Cao. A few days ago I was still in Luoyang, gripping a short blade, standing behind Dong Zhuo. My heartbeat so fast it nearly burst my eardrums.

Before I could act, I was discovered. Then I ran. The whole way, I didn't even have the strength to look back.

Now I stood here with nothing. My rank — gone. My name — branded a traitor. Only a handful of people still willing to follow me.

But I did one thing. I took out every last coin from the family coffers. Recruited men, bought grain, bought weapons. Not much. But enough to begin.

This world will not wait for anyone to be ready. I stood at the courtyard gate. A torch cast a small circle of light. Not many people. Their armor was old.

But they came. That was enough.

[Cao Cao] Raised arms today. Gave away the entire family fortune. Recruited just over a thousand men. Not many. A sudden heat in my chest during the night, as if something stirred for a moment.

[Overlord Fate Mark] Strike first · Cut first · Devour first The remnant soul had barely entered — the Fate Mark had already moved. Ensnared. Devoured. The remnant soul vanished.

When Dong Zhuo seized power, Cao Cao attempted an assassination and failed, fleeing Luoyang. He gave away his entire family fortune and recruited a militia. In those days the realm was in chaos — most watched, few dared act. Cao Cao, with nothing to his name, was the first to rise. This became the very first step toward his contest for the realm. The world remembers the King of Wei who came later, but it all began with a fugitive carrying his last coins out of a mud courtyard.

Radar signal ends.

——zzz… zzt……

[São Paulo | Thiago]

I was in the tower crane cab, seventy-two meters off the ground.

Earlier today I heard two people talking casually in the stairwell.

"Just give the heavy loads to Thiago."

"He can handle it — one of him does the work of three."

It wasn't cruel. It was just too natural. That kind of thing, heard often enough, sinks deeper than cruelty.

Shift was over, but I didn't want to go down. Below me, people moved in twos and threes. I was the only one still hanging up here.

I leaned back in the seat. The wind rocked the crane, rocking for a long time.

The moment my eyelids closed, my body lost all weight — as if a small piece of me had suddenly slipped loose from somewhere high inside, and was being dragged downward.

01:47 | Radar House — anomalous energy disturbance detected. Fate Mark thread detected. Residual soul loosening at the edge of sleep. First deviation confirmed: has not landed in a human body. Attaching to nearest living vessel. Target confirmed: Red Hare. Recording borrowed-vessel residual soul fragment —

There was a cold iron bit laid across my mouth.

I felt my four hooves strike the ground. White breath from my nostrils exploded into the cold night.

I had not entered a human body. It was a horse.

Weight on my back. Armor plates pressed against the spine. One hand rested on the mane.

Just then, I felt something already inside this horse's chest — a thread, very thin, like a fine strand buried between bone and flesh.

Without knowing why, I bit down on it. A gentle pull. It broke.

The reins tightened. He squeezed his legs once.

I had never run at this speed.

Every hoofbeat hit the ground like a door kicked open. The wind was not blowing toward me — I was smashing through it. Ahead: firelight, shouting, a wall of iron armor locked in formation.

He raised the halberd, and the weight on my back suddenly came alive — one sweep, and the sounds on both sides stopped.

No one could keep up. No one could stand in the way.

On the road back to camp, officers saw us from a distance and moved to the side. Other horses caught my scent and turned their necks away — they did not even dare to whinny.

He dismounted and removed his armor. From start to finish, not a single person came over.

Night deepened. He came back to me alone, crouched down, and fed me handfuls of fodder one fistful at a time. The fodder still carried the smell of blood that had not yet faded. I could feel the hand feeding me tremble, just slightly.

Through the horse's ears, he did not speak. But I knew — tonight, I was all he had left.

[Lü Bu] Tonight Red Hare suddenly let out a low sound, then kept looking toward the dark. Its movements were a half-beat slower than usual. I pressed my hand on the side of its neck, and only then did it settle. Pulse as usual. Coat unchanged. Only that spirit — as if a sliver of it had gone missing. I do not know why.

[Red Hare] [Gale Fate Mark] Carry · a thousand li · never rest

…has infiltrated. Could not be stopped.

Borrowed-body fragment lost: one piece. Perceptual sovereignty — transferred.

Red Hare Mount of Lü Bu · a thousand li in a day · unmatched beneath heaven

In the first year of Chuping, Dong Zhuo gave Red Hare to Lü Bu, and Lü Bu killed Ding Yuan to follow him. The world remembers Lü Bu for his betrayals — yet few have asked about the horse: taken from one master's back, loaded with another master's weight. Lü Bu changed lords three times in his life. Red Hare changed backs three times in its life. In the end, Lü Bu died at the White Gate Tower, and Red Hare passed to Guan Yu.

Radar signal ends.

——zzz… zzt……

Radar House v1.1 — Fate Mark Module Log. Fate Mark Record #003: borrowed-body sealing anomaly. Residual soul fragment: fully recovered.

【Tokyo | Yamamoto】

Two in the morning, dead drunk, and I kicked a stray dog in the dark. The dog was nothing but bones — gnawing on a bento box someone had left out. I'd startled it; now it was chasing me. Halfway through my run my right foot caught my left and I hit the pavement face-first. My mouth filled with the taste of rust.

One second on the ground. The world went quiet. Then I "stood up" from my own back — while my body was still lying there.

Before I had time to be afraid, something took hold of my spine and carried me off — through the neon, through the buildings — then let go. Down. Into somewhere deep and very hot.

01:52 | Attraction Space Radar House — Anomalous energy disturbance detected. A Fate Mark thread detected, coming loose at the edge of sleep, forcibly drawn by a resonance source. Recording residual consciousness fragments from the Fate Mark —

The first sensation was this: I was biting. I had just crashed into this body, and there was something thin stretched across the chest. I bit down on one edge — and it came apart.

Steadied myself. Robes in order, fingers shaking. No sword at my hip. Just a bamboo scroll.

Eighteen banners outside the tent. Firelight pressed heat into every face.

I was Kong Rong.

The wine was full and the words were loud. Every lord said he'd march on Dong Zhuo, that he was ready to give himself for the realm. I almost believed it at first — that even now, in a world this broken, people had still come. That there were actually people willing to stand on the same side.

But a longer look told a different story. Some were there to count their neighbors' soldiers. The loudest ones had already planned their exit. When cups went up it looked like solidarity; when they came down each man had slipped back into his own calculations.

Then one person stood.

Sun Jian. Governor of Changsha. Not tall. Old blade scars on his iron armor. No grand words. Just four:

"I'll go. That's all."

The tent flap fell. Hoofbeats from near to far.

Inside, the drinking continued. Not one person moved.

Word came back later: Sun Jian had been ambushed, nearly died outside. The messenger's face was gray with ash. Three seconds of silence. Then someone poured wine, someone reached for meat, and the noise closed back over everything.

The last thing I felt — that thread in me that had believed, more than anything, that people could move forward together — was simply gone.

And the man who had actually moved nearly died out there alone. No one in that tent poured him a cup.

[Kong Rong] The alliance met today. After the tent broke, I sat alone. A sudden coolness in my chest — like something was missing. I couldn't say what.

[Paper Scroll Fate Mark] Pure discourse · Yielding first · Alliance on paper …has infiltrated. Could not be stopped. This body is too thin — like paper at its first unfolding. The first page has torn. There is no guarding what's left. One soul-fragment lost. Perceptual sovereignty — transferred.

Kong Rong Governor of Beihai · 20th-generation descendant of Confucius

In the first year of Chuping, the eighteen lords gathered at Suanzao, named Yuan Shao as their leader, and pledged to march on Dong Zhuo. The alliance was formidable in name and hollow in will — most watched rather than fought. Only Sun Jian, Governor of Changsha, stepped forward alone as vanguard and nearly died in the attempt. The alliance never united. The disorder deepened from that day.

Radar signal ends.

——zzz… zzt……

Radar House v1.1 — Fate Mark Module Log. Fate Mark Record #002: Sealing anomaly. Consciousness fragment: intact.

【Taipei | Kuan Shan】

Another late night.

Over forty unread messages in the LINE group. I opened them one by one, replying: "I've already revised it. Just use my version."

I'm always the first to read, the first to reply. By the time I finish editing, the entire report is written by me alone.

I can't help it. I don't trust anyone else to do it right.

I pushed my chair back and let out a long yawn. Just five minutes. That's enough.

I pressed my forehead against the desk, my eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

Then, all at once, my entire body felt weightless — as if something inside me had been peeled away and carried off.

01:29 | Attraction Space Radar House has detected an anomalous energy disturbance.

A Fate Mark has been detected. It has broken free from the bonds of sleep and is being drawn toward its resonance source by a powerful force.

Recording the residual consciousness fragments of the Fate Mark — commencing now.

The first thing I felt was weight.

Not the weight of flesh. But a vast, searing, intensely alive mass surging in from every direction — pressing straight into the depths of my being.

Then I was pulled into its sensation.

I felt myself on horseback. My thighs gripping tightly against the horse's flanks. My shoulders pressing against iron armor. Wind roaring past on both sides. The city gates stood open. People in the streets retreated to the walls on either side.

No one cried out. No one moved to block my path. They simply saw me coming, and before they could think, their bodies bent in a bow.

I recognized all of this. The same thing happens every day in my office.

The difference was this — it took me over ten years to make an entire floor of people lower their voices at the sight of me. This body had only to ride through the city gates, and all of Luoyang bowed in submission.

I entered the imperial court. Kneeling before me was a child dressed in a bright yellow robe, trembling all over.

I spoke:

Depose the Emperor.

The entire hall bowed as one.

Later, I stood on a hill outside the city, looking back at Luoyang in flames. My gaze held only one thought: I am leaving. There is no reason to stay here for anyone.

That thought was not my own. Yet I understood it with absolute clarity.

Inside this body, I grew weaker and weaker.

Like a drop of ink falling into boiling water.

My final sensation — this body sat down. Steady. Heavy. As if pressing the entire chair into the ground.

Then everything disappeared.

【Dong Zhuo】

Entering the city today, I was suddenly struck by a wave of dizziness.

I pulled the reins tight and paused for just a moment.

Something deep within me had changed.

【City-Destroyer Fate Mark】

Dominion · Usurpation · Consumption

You are so weak, yet you dare to seek me out.

First, let me suppress you.

Wait until you are even weaker —

Then I will swallow you whole.

Dong Zhuo The One Who Deposed the Emperor

Dong Zhuo led his forces into Luoyang, deposed Emperor Shao, enthroned Emperor Xian, and appointed himself Grand Preceptor. He later held Emperor Xian hostage, forced the court to relocate westward to Chang'an, and burned Luoyang's palaces and homes. Once in Chang'an, his power and arrogance only grew. In the end, his life came to a close at the hands of Lü Bu, leaving behind only the smoldering embers of a world in chaos.

Radar signal terminated.

— Zzz…

Radar House v1.1 — Fate Mark Module Log.

Fate Mark Record #001: Archived.

Consciousness fragments: fully dissipated. System notice:

Similar Fate Marks are drawn to one another.

They may meet, but they cannot coexist.

Three Kingdoms｜Episode 01: The Yellow Turban Rebellion｜London Lisa

【London | Lisa】

London is cold tonight.

We finished the argument on the street. He didn't look back. I didn't follow. The rain had just stopped — pavement catching light from signs and headlights, bright in patches, dark in between. Buses still running. Lights still changing. People laughing in the pub down the road. Everything moving like nothing happened. But I knew.

I had half a bottle left. I walked to the river alone. Wind off the water made everything sharper. I drank a little. It didn't help. I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a few lines. By the end I understood — what hurt wasn't just losing him. It was realizing the life I thought was still intact had been cracking for a long time. Tonight was just when it finally broke.

I folded the paper into the empty bottle, sealed it, threw it in.

One quiet sound as it hit the water. Then it drifted away — something I'd been holding, slowly taken by the dark. The river didn't keep it for me.

00:17 | Attraction Space Radar Station intercepts an anomalous signal. Point of origin: late Eastern Han. Eve of the Yellow Turban Rebellion. First transmission: a letter from Zhang Jiao, Grand Master of the Way of Peace.

【Zhang Jiao】

A disciple pulled a strange bottle from the Zhang River and brought it to my altar. I read your letter under the lamp for a long time.

I recall last winter, when a woman from Jizhou came to the altar to ask for a talisman. She didn’t say what she wanted; she just stood there, clutching a piece of cloth in her hand. I didn’t ask, and she didn’t say anything. With her head bowed, she asked me to place the talisman on the back of her hand, then left. Later, a disciple told me that the cloth contained a lock of her child’s hair. The child was already gone. She hadn’t said a word. The talisman was placed on her hand, and she left. Some people come here not seeking anything in particular, but simply because their path behind them is cut off and the road ahead remains unclear.

The fields in Jizhou have been cracked for years. By day the gates open, markets call out, collectors make their rounds. But after dark, nearly every door holds on by sheer will — against empty pots, sickness, another night with no certainty of morning. No one chose to let go. People hold too long, and then one night something breaks.

I read every word in your bottle. I didn't burn it. I set it beside the lamp.

You've come this far. Don't look back.

Zhang Jiao — Grand Master of the Way of Peace

Zhang Jiao handed the letter to his disciple and looked out into the dark.

The Way of Peace had raised altars across the provinces — healing, gathering — but beneath the surface something larger had been moving. Envoys passed quietly between regions. Agents placed inside the capital. The plan: wait, then strike from within and without, all at once.

But the fracture came early.

Word leaked. Agents arrested. Overnight raids. Everything kept in shadow dragged into the open. No going back. Zhang Jiao sent word — every faction, rise now.

All eight provinces moved at once.

Yellow cloth in the night. Banners before dawn. County offices stormed, roads cut. Smoke from city walls. Troops scrambling. Hooves through mud. Beacon fires station to station. The Eastern Han torn open from beneath by everything people had carried too long.

Radar signal ends.

The Zhang River and the river in London are flowing toward the same place tonight.

Give tonight's fracture to the dream.

Three Kingdoms character cards, tarot readings, and Spirit Egg growth: https://three-kingdoms-sleep-fate-cards.pages.dev/

Sleep music for Episode 01:

【Seoul | Hana】

The office had long emptied. The corridor lights glowed in a row, like an unmanned runway.

Hana hid outside the copy room and heard three sentences that cut through everything:

“Take Hana’s name off the list.” “The slot goes to one of our own this time.” “No matter how much she does — the higher-ups made their decision long ago.”

It was not overthinking. It was not poor performance. It was not bad luck.

Someone had been pushing her out from the shadows from the very beginning.

She slipped the recorder into an internal mail envelope and wrote: Personnel Audit.

The next morning, her name was still gone from the promotion list.

The recorder had disappeared too.

Far away, in the final years of the Eastern Han dynasty, that missing recording reached the sealed box of Zhang Rang, Head of the Ten Eunuchs.

In the palace, Zhang Rang understood immediately.

In this world, what decides who rises and who falls has never been a roster or merit.

It is the people in the shadows.

Every accusation against the Ten Eunuchs passed through their hands first. Every voice that tried to reach the emperor was stopped before it arrived.

Hana’s office and Luoyang’s inner palace were not so different.

A name removed from a list. A voice erased before it could be heard. A system already decided before the person inside it ever had a chance.

When the Ten Eunuchs fell, the court did not recover. He Jin died. Zhang Rang fled. Dong Zhuo entered Luoyang. The last authority of the emperor began to collapse.

A missing recording in Seoul became the echo of a dying dynasty.

Three Kingdoms character cards, tarot readings, and Spirit Egg growth: https://three-kingdoms-sleep-fate-cards.pages.dev/

Sleep music for Episode 02:

Three Kingdoms｜Episode 01: The Yellow Turban Rebellion｜London Lisa

Tonight in London, Lisa throws a sealed letter into the river after everything in her life begins to crack.

The city keeps moving. Buses pass. Lights flicker across the wet pavement. Somewhere in the distance, people are still laughing in a pub, as if nothing has happened.

But Lisa knows something has broken.

Far away, in the final years of the Eastern Han dynasty, a strange bottle is found downstream and brought to Zhang Jiao, the Grand Master of the Way of Peace.

He reads the letter by lamplight.

It reminds him of the people who come to his altar not because they still know what to ask for, but because the road behind them has already disappeared, and the road ahead has not yet appeared.

Jizhou has been drying out for years. Wells are shallow. Families hold on through nights with empty pots, sick bodies, and no certainty of morning.

No one chooses to let go all at once.

People endure for too long, and then one night, something breaks.

On the eve of the Yellow Turban Rebellion, Lisa’s private fracture reaches Zhang Jiao’s world.

A modern river and an ancient river begin flowing toward the same place.

Three Kingdoms character cards, tarot readings, and Spirit Egg growth: https://three-kingdoms-sleep-fate-cards.pages.dev/

Sleep music for Episode 01:

I made a free tarot and Three Kingdoms fate reading website.

You can try a Past · Present · Future tarot reading, draw a daily Three Kingdoms character reading, raise your Spirit Egg, and play small mini-games.

Reveal Your Fate · Hatch Your Spirit Egg · Sleep Better