I came to moments later, heart racing, body drenched in sweat.
No, not sweat—coolant. My body had flushed thermal excess through synthetic pores. A side effect of the hybridization.
I looked down at my hands.
My skin shimmered faintly. Beneath the surface, lines of bone had restructured, grown denser, sharper.
[Trait Acquired: Bone Weave (Stage 1)]
[Kinetic Threshold Improved: +12%]
[Neural Sync Integrity: 89%]
I could take a hit now.
Maybe even dish one out.
A rustling sound snapped me out of the moment. Not wind. Not stone shifting. Closer. Wet. Dragging.
I dropped into a low crouch and scanned the area.
Something stumbled into view—humanoid, hunched, skin torn and sagging, face locked in a permanent snarl. Its limbs jerked with erratic speed, like a puppet pulled by a drunk puppeteer. It wasn't breathing.
A Wretch.
I'd read about them in archived black logs. Failed evolvers. Mutants too broken to stabilize. Most were feral. All were lethal.
This one had noticed me.
It shrieked. I moved.
It charged, limbs flailing. I sidestepped and slashed low, my knife skimming along the outer thigh. Bone split open. It didn't even flinch.
'Right. No pain response.'
It swung wildly. I ducked. The air whistled above me. I drove my blade upward, into its armpit, puncturing muscle and scraping cartilage. A gurgle. Then blood.
But it kept fighting.
I grabbed its arm with my free hand. The Bone Weave activated automatically. My grip tightened with enhanced pressure.
Crack.
Its elbow shattered.
I pivoted, driving the creature headfirst into the stone node behind me. The impact crushed its skull with a sickening pop.
Silence.
Then:
[Threat Neutralized]
[First Kill Bonus – Evolution Sync +1 Node]
[Combat Pattern Analyzed – Unlocked: Basic Close Quarters Proficiency]
The system rewarded efficiency.
I could work with that.
I dragged the corpse away from the node and began stripping anything useful—bone splinters could be sharpened, tendons used as makeshift cord. Its claws had metallic lacing. I pried one off and added it to my belt.
Scavenging wasn't glamorous, but it was survival.
Then I heard it.
Distant. Rhythmic. Metallic.
Footsteps.
Marching.
Not alone.
I moved quickly, scaling the nearest ridge for a better view. I found a half-collapsed ruin and slid into the shadows.
Below me, a patrol approached.
Five figures.
Armored.
Not military—no standard issue, no insignia. They wore hybrid gear: scavenged tech meshed with natural adaptations. Their faces were covered by respirators, visors glowing faintly. One of them had a metallic tail.
Another had wings—folded, not in use.
Their weapons looked advanced. Pulse rifles modified with shard-cores. One of them carried a spear made from what looked like a predator's spine.
They were organized. Coordinated.
And they weren't here for a stroll.
I activated my ocular zoom and scanned their lead.
HUD flashed:
[Target Identified – Evolution Class: Psionic Vanguard]
[Affiliation: Ashen Sovereignty – Recon Unit]
[Threat Level: Medium-High]
Ashen Sovereignty.
The name stirred something in Kael's memory. A splinter faction. Militant. Believed in evolution through domination. Survivors of the old world who'd turned war into religion.
Their motto? "Only the evolved shall inherit."
I watched as they inspected the dead Wretch. One of them crouched beside the corpse, analyzing the wounds. His visor lit up. He looked directly at the ridge I was hiding on.
No way he could see me.
Unless—
[Psionic Detection Detected – Level 1 Scan]
Damn it.
I ducked back, already moving. The moment I shifted, energy blasts erupted around me. One clipped my shoulder. Sparks flew. The pain was immediate but not debilitating—Bone Weave absorbed part of the impact.
I sprinted, weaving through the ruined landscape. More blasts. Shouts. The hunt was on.
And I was the prey.
For now.
*****
Ten minutes of full sprinting brought me to a canyon. The terrain shifted sharply—steep cliffs, narrow paths, unstable ground. Perfect for losing pursuers. Also perfect for ambushes.
I jumped down into the ravine and landed hard, rolling to absorb the impact. The walls were etched with strange symbols—ancient runes pulsing faintly.
A ruin.
Old. Very old.
Kael's memory jolted again. These weren't human markings. They were pre-cataclysmic. From the Architects.
The first evolutionists.
Before I could explore, a whisper echoed through the canyon.
Not sound.
Not thought.
A signal.
[Neural Signature Detected – Genetic Match: 78%]
[Initiating Resonance...]
The wall beside me opened.
Stone split apart, revealing a narrow hallway bathed in golden light.
An Architect vault.
Sealed to bloodlines.
Sealed to me.
I stepped inside.
*****
The air was still. Cold. Preserved.
Holograms flickered to life around me—schematics, DNA strands, failed mutations looping endlessly. On the central pedestal lay a single item: a cylindrical module wrapped in ancient alloy and organic mesh.
My heart pounded.
This was no relic.
It was a Prototype.
I reached out.
The moment I touched it, the system screamed:
[WARNING: Unknown Evolution Protocol Detected]
[Risk Level: EXTREME]
[Continue Integration?]
My mouth curled into a smile.
"Always."
I triggered it.
Silence wrapped around me like a noose.
The moment I triggered the prototype, the air changed—dense, heavy, charged with ancient power. The golden light of the Architect vault dimmed to a deep crimson. Symbols on the walls restructured themselves, flowing into new configurations, forming a circuit of energy that pulsed around me like a heartbeat.
[Integration in Progress...]
[WARNING: Protocol Unstable]
[Host DNA: Compatible – 78.2%]
[Neural Sync Threshold Exceeded – Proceeding With Caution]
Caution was a luxury I didn't have. Every second in this world could mean a trap, a patrol, another confrontation. If this device could give me an edge, I'd risk it. I had to.
The module unfolded like a blooming flower, metallic petals peeling back to reveal a black core that thrummed with light.
I didn't hesitate.
I slammed it into my port.
White-hot agony tore through me.
It wasn't like the previous evolution. This wasn't neural syncing or biological adaptation. This was rewriting. The core reached into the deepest corners of my DNA and burned—not to destroy, but to reshape. I convulsed, collapsing onto the pedestal as every cell in my body screamed.
And in that scream—I saw.
Not a vision.
A memory. Not mine.
The world before the Fall.
A city in the clouds. Towers spiraling into the sky, built on harmonics and gravity matrices. Beings—not human, not entirely—walked streets paved with intelligent matter. They spoke in thought, moved in symphony, evolved not through struggle, but through deliberate choice.
The Architects.
And at the center of their dominion was a single, forbidden creation: the Catalyst.
The prototype I had just bonded with.
It was their last attempt at forced evolution—raw, unstable, and too powerful to control. They sealed it away when it began to learn, to adapt on its own. They feared it.
And now, it lived in me.
I gasped as the vision vanished.
The pain faded.
My body… felt different.
Taller. Stronger. My muscles no longer twitched with fatigue. My vision flickered between normal and enhanced modes—thermal, electro-sense, psionic trace.
Everything pulsed with data.
I flexed my fingers and watched nanothreads flow beneath the skin.
This wasn't evolution.
This was inheritance.
The system chimed.
[New Protocol Acquired: Catalyst Core (Tier 0)]
[Trait Unlocked: Recursive Adaptation – Abilities Improve with Use]
[Trait Unlocked: Architect's Eye – Perception Beyond Visible Spectrum]
[Warning: Trait Limit Surpassed – System Stress: 31%]
So I could break limits. But there was a cost. Pushing further risked system failure—or worse. Still, it was worth it.
I turned toward the exit as the vault walls began to crumble.
No time to linger.
*****
I emerged from the canyon just as the sky began to darken.
Clouds rolled overhead like molten steel, glowing faintly at the edges. A storm—not natural. Energy-based. Aetheric discharge storms were rare, but deadly. I had hours, maybe less, before it hit.
I needed cover.
I began moving south, away from the vault. My enhanced perception painted the terrain in vivid clarity. Heat signatures from underground fauna. Faint psionic trails—humanoid, likely the Ashen Sovereignty scouts from earlier.
They'd lost me.
For now.
The terrain shifted again. Jagged formations gave way to black sand and twisted bone trees. The wind howled here, scraping dust like knives against rock.
That's when I saw her.
Alone.
Walking calmly into the wind, cloak fluttering, face half-covered by a visor. Her steps didn't waver. She walked like she owned the storm.
I dropped behind a low ridge, zoomed in.
She wasn't Sovereignty.
Her gear was too refined—custom-fitted plates, energy mesh woven through the armor. She carried a blade across her back, long and thin, almost ceremonial.
And her aura… flickered.
Not just evolved.
Awakened.
A rare condition where an individual achieved neural consciousness of their evolution process. Most barely survived the surge of power.
She was one of the few who'd mastered it.
My HUD tried to scan her.
[Subject Scan Failed – Data Obscured]
Impossible. Even Sovereignty elite didn't have cloaking tech that good.
She paused.
Looked directly toward me.
Then vanished.
Not teleported.
Gone.
I froze.
A whisper brushed my thoughts.
"You're bleeding power."
I whirled—too late.
She stood behind me, blade drawn, held in reverse grip.
I instinctively backed away. My vision flared, mapping her posture, breath, micro-movements.
[Combat Pattern Detected: Astral Form – Class: Unknown]
[Threat Level: High to Critical]
She didn't attack.
Just watched.
"Who are you?" I asked, voice steady despite the tension.
She tilted her head.
"You smell like the old world. Like something that should've stayed buried."
"I could say the same for you."
"You touched the Catalyst." Her tone wasn't surprised. "And it didn't kill you."
"Should it have?"
"It usually does."
She sheathed the blade.
"I'm not your enemy. Not yet. But you're going to attract attention you're not ready for."
"Who are you?"
"A reminder."
She turned and walked away, vanishing into the rising storm.
I didn't follow. I couldn't.
Not yet.
But one thing was clear.
The game had changed.
And I was no longer playing on the beginner's board.