Chapter 6: Fractured Paths
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Morning - Training Grounds
The scrape of my boots against the cracked floor echoes through the compound. The same drill. The same relentless grind. But today, there's a weight to it—a shift. The air's thicker. Like something's about to break.
I grip the sword tighter, feeling the familiar hum of it in my hand. It's an extension of me now. But it feels wrong somehow. Like it's not just my body that's being pushed to its limits. Something else is fighting, too.
Rovan stands at the far end of the arena, arms crossed, watching. "Form 5, Kael. Don't hold back. Not today."
I nod, pushing aside the creeping fatigue. My body wants to protest, but there's no room for weakness. Not anymore.
I move.
Flash Cut.
The world warps around me, but this time I don't stumble. The blade lands in the target zone with a crack that makes the walls hum. The strike's fluid, controlled. There's no hesitation.
Rovan doesn't look impressed. "You're improving. But it's still too predictable. You're thinking too much. Let go."
"Let go?" I mutter, catching my breath.
"Stop trying to control every move. Let your instincts take over. That's how you get to Form 6. You won't think your way through this."
I grit my teeth, but there's truth in his words. I can feel it—this need to push forward, to remember what's hidden in me, what I still don't understand.
Lucien's voice flickers in the back of my mind, like a spark that threatens to catch fire. "You need to go deeper. Stop fighting the current."
"Not helping," I mutter, trying to focus on my next strike.
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Later - The Briefing Room
Rovan gathers us, a motley crew of recruits with more scars than smiles. The mission's already been posted on the board, but this time, something's different. The air's thick with tension. Everyone's eyes are trained on Rovan, waiting for him to speak.
"Listen up," Rovan says, his voice as sharp as ever. "This is an extraction mission. Civilians were caught in the crossfire. We've got a breach in the outer zones. Raiders, mercs, the usual. But this time, they've got something we can't afford to ignore."
I blink, a sense of unease creeping up my spine. "What are we looking at?"
Rovan throws a hologram into the center of the room, a flickering image of a downed convoy. It's not the usual wreckage—there's something off about it. An energy pulse emanates from the wreck, too strong, too controlled.
"That's no ordinary cargo," Rovan continues. "This is connected to the Starcore fragments. We don't know how, but it's our job to find out. It's too hot for the regular forces. We're going in."
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Sector 13 - Extraction Site
The air stings with the scent of burning metal and scorched earth as we drop onto the wreck site. The convoy's twisted, half-buried under debris, but there's something... wrong about the whole scene. A strange, pulsating energy hums beneath the surface, vibrating the ground beneath our boots.
Lucien's voice crackles in my ear. "The fragments are close. I can feel them."
"Focus," I reply. "Keep the team tight."
We spread out, moving cautiously. My heart's pounding, but I suppress it. It's just another mission. Just another test of survival.
That's when I see it.
A figure. A shadow, barely visible against the wreckage, but unmistakable. A person—or something wearing a person's skin.
"Ambush!" I shout.
Before I can react, a burst of energy cracks through the air, sending one of our recruits flying backwards. The rest of the team scrambles, weapons drawn, but the figure moves with unnerving speed.
I raise my sword, eyes locked on the figure. There's a flash of recognition—something familiar about the movement, the grace. But it's not possible.
"Lucien," I murmur. "What the hell is this?"
He doesn't answer. But I hear the warning in his voice as it flickers again, distant but urgent. "A guardian. It's... it's one of them. The ones who protected the fragments."
I hesitate for a fraction of a second. Too long.
The figure lunges, and I meet it with a quick parry. The clash reverberates through my arms. This isn't just a normal fight. This is something ancient. Something alive.
The fight is brutal, faster than anything I've encountered. Every strike, every movement is like the cutting edge of a blade. It's like the world is warping around the fight.
I feel Lucien surge forward, guiding my movements with the precision of someone who's lived this before.
Flash Cut.
The world distorts, and for a split second, I'm someone else. A king. A conqueror. The blade I wield isn't just metal—it's starlight, it's a god's weapon.
But it's gone as quickly as it came.
The guardian stumbles, a deep cut opening across its chest. It falters, and before I can make a move, it shudders and collapses into a pile of dust and shattered energy.
The others stand frozen, staring at me.
"How…?" one of them stammers.
I can't answer. The fight feels like a blur, and the only thing that's clear is the cold sensation that lingers in my bones.
Lucien's voice, calm but knowing, returns. "You're moving faster. Keep pushing. There's more out there."
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Back at the Compound - Post-Mission Debrief
The mission is over. The fragments are secured. But there's no victory in it.
The other recruits talk about the mission in hushed tones. They're scared. They should be.
Rovan's briefing is quick. "You all did well. But don't get comfortable. We're just getting started."
I don't listen. I'm too busy replaying the fight. The feeling of the blade in my hand. The rush. The power.
I can't help but wonder if it's me doing this, or if it's him—Veyraxor—pushing me forward.
"Get some rest," Rovan calls out. "We've got another mission soon. You'll need it."
I don't move.
"Kael," Lucien's voice hums in my mind. "This is only the beginning."
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Night - Alone in My Quarters
I sit alone in my bunk, staring at the ceiling. The echoes of the fight still resonate within me, but it's more than just that. It's the lingering pull of the fragments. The sensation that I'm becoming something else—something more.
I close my eyes. And for the first time in a long while, I let the memory come.
The mountain of crystal. The heart. The starcore.
I reach for it again, but this time, I don't pull away. This time, I hold it in my hands.
The world screams.
Then silence.
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That night, we couldn't move any further.
The crater zone was far too volatile—chunks of broken land, magnetic storms surging from underground pulses. It was where the Starcore fragments fell, and anyone who walked here too long either lost their gear or their sanity.
We made camp in a broken structure half-buried under ash and vines. The wind howled like a ghost chorus. The sky bled faint purple. Everyone else was asleep, or pretending to be. I sat against the ruin wall, gazing at my reflection in the dull blade of my combat knife.
And then I closed my eyes.
Not to rest—but to dig.
I wanted to remember. Needed to.
Memories of my past life flickered like embers in my mind:
Special ops. Urban ghost unit. Mercenary company under black contracts.
I remembered the mission—the one that killed me.
We were deployed to recover the Starcore, but it wasn't a weapon anymore. It was a beacon, and the Architects, the original creators, wanted it back. We were disposable.
I died trying to protect it.
And now I carried its heart inside my chest.
Suddenly, my consciousness cut out—like someone yanked me through a wire.
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White ceiling. Smooth light panels. Cold metal floors. I was back... somewhere.
I had only been here once before—the Astral Room inside the Starcore Reactor, the space where Kai, the AI intelligence I once bonded with, used to speak with me. But this time...
It wasn't Kai who stood there.
It was him.
Lucien? No. Not just Lucien.
Veyrax the First—the man behind the kingdom. The soul fragment that had lingered within this body. The legend before the fall.
He stood tall, wearing robes woven from what looked like broken starlight and steel threads. His voice echoed without sound.
> "You've been here a year already. Your body doesn't age. The reactor's influence preserves you—but it also binds you."
He waved his hand, and the white walls turned into floating memory screens.
And so he told me—
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The Lore of the Fall
> "220 years ago, my homeland, Veyrax, was a republic. I was born and raised there. We were nothing special—just another broken continent with dreams."
Then came the event that split time in two:
> "One night, I saw the headlines. STARFALL—a fusion core prototype from orbit was going to crash. Countdown: 72 hours. They called it a catastrophe."
I stepped forward. "That's the same day I died in my world. Same crash. Different timeline."
He nodded slowly.
> "At the time, I was just a teenager. But me and my brother… we wanted to change everything. We dreamed of turning Veyrax into the strongest nation alive—not a republic... but a Kingdom."
He paused. His voice dropped.
> "I tried to claim the reactor when it hit. Fought off scavengers, traitors, and mercs. I managed to retrieve only one-third of it before it 'exploded.' Or so people thought. Truth is, the outer shell discharged to fake a meltdown. But the core... I stole it."
He pulled his robe aside and pointed to his chest. A faint glow pulsed beneath his skin.
> "I implanted it here. Burned a third of my soul to sync with it."
I stared in silence. And then came the truth that hit me harder than any blade:
> "You, Kael... your soul didn't just replace me. It merged with mine. Over 50%. Maybe more. There's no 'you' or 'me' anymore."
> "You're becoming something else."
I tried to speak, but he raised a hand.
> "The more you stay here, the more your past fades. Memories, instincts, emotions… All of it will erode."
> "You will forget your world."
Then, from the shimmering wall of light, he pulled out a small device—an obsidian-black compass with a rotating center and no labels.
> "Navigator. It'll guide you. When the time comes, you'll know what for."
I reached out to take it—and—
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I woke up gasping.
The wind still howled. The crater glowed dimly in the distance.
But something had changed.
I clutched the navigator in my palm.
And I couldn't remember my commanding officer's name anymore.
Just that…
He was important.
Once.
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