The first thing Jun noticed when he re-entered the game wasn't the light or the landscape, but the way his breath caught in his chest—not from fear, but pressure. The Breath Grid had changed. Sharper. Clearer. As if the Vault had unlocked more than another node.
It had recalibrated his connection.
His steps across the Cradle of the Forgotten were met with silence. No monsters, no players. The terrain itself responded to his movements, like it remembered his presence. Echo Threads trembled in the air as he passed.
He reached a ridgeline overlooking the vast horizon of Heaven's Gate. Far to the east, the shimmering towers of Nexus Prime pierced the sky—a city governed entirely by the System. And deep below it, buried beneath layers of digital firewalls and AI-simulated terrain, lay the Core Server Citadel.
His next node.
But this journey wasn't a sprint. Jun knew that now. The Vault hadn't just shown him history—it had foreshadowed war. And war needed preparation.
He logged out.
The apartment was cold when he removed the neural immersion helmet. A few lights blinked lazily from his console tower, and the hum of the city seeped through the poorly sealed windows.
He checked the lock on his door—intact. Reinforced since the last attempted break-in. The strike team hadn't returned, but that didn't mean they weren't watching.
In the real world, Jun was no longer invisible. His player data had likely been flagged in NexSoul's internal database. That meant tracking. Surveillance. And if the corporation was willing to bend rules in-game, there was no guarantee they wouldn't cross lines here.
He turned to the cracked mirror hanging over the sink. His face was tired. Pale. Eyes sunken from too many sleepless sessions. But something burned behind those eyes now. Purpose.
He needed allies. Resources. Safety.
Jun tapped a sequence on his wristband. The private, offline rig in the closet whirred to life. It was a backup—something he'd built himself using off-grid components and fragments of old NexSoul alpha dev kits bought through the black market.
A name lit up on the monitor: Dr. Mira Lin.
She had once been a lead neural researcher for NexSoul before she "disappeared." Rumor said she still worked on rogue immersion tech. Unconfirmed. Until now.
Jun recorded a message:
"I've found something. Breath Grid. No system. Pre-foundation tech. They're watching me now. If you're still working in the shadow channels, I need sanctuary. And I have data you'll want to see."
He encrypted the file, wrapped it in three obfuscation layers, and sent it through an anonymous node chain.
Then, he returned.
Heaven's Gate hadn't been idle.
The moment he logged back in, a low chime rang in the distance—like a bell struck underwater. The air shimmered with golden motes. Notifications blinked across his peripheral vision, not from his non-existent system, but from the game's environment itself.
[New World Event Activated: Echo Anomaly Detected.]
[All Rootless players: Breath Grid recalibration required. Sync with nearest Breath Pulse to avoid feedback desync.]
Jun blinked. That was new.
Since when did the game recognize Rootless as players?
Something had changed.
He traveled south to the Whispering Fen, one of the few areas where Breath Pulses formed naturally. Along the way, he saw them—more Rootless. Dozens. They moved carefully, breath flowing, footwork light. Most hadn't noticed him, but those who did paused briefly and nodded.
Respect.
He wasn't alone anymore.
When he arrived at the Fen, a series of floating orbs circled above the swamp like drifting moons. Each radiated a specific frequency—breath patterns encoded in light. Jun approached one.
A familiar voice greeted him.
"Grid Signature: Jun of Manual Mode. Breath Path divergence classified."
It was the same voice from the Vault.
"Query: Begin Breath Sync Protocol for Advanced Cultivation Interface?"
Interface?
He agreed.
A shimmer enveloped him. His vision shifted. In place of menus, a web-like lattice of light formed before him—a diagram of his cultivation path. Three nodes blazed. The Vault at the center. Beneath it, a glowing spiral—his newly acquired Origin Breath Shard pulsed there.
New labels appeared:
Breath Core: Harmonized
Breath Alignment: Divergent
Qi Manifestation: Rootless Format Verified
Manual Technique Slots: 3/12
It wasn't a system.
It was a cultivation map.
He was building it himself.
As he stepped away from the Pulse, a message flashed through the Breath Grid—not typed, not programmed. It felt... sentient.
"You have passed the third gate. Fourth requires sacrifice."
Jun exhaled slowly.
Then a ping.
Private message—encrypted, routed from deep net layers.
[Sender: MiraLin|Untracked]
"Meet me. Warehouse 47B. Sector Delta. Midnight. Bring everything. They're about to shut you down."
Back in the real world, Jun suited up in silence. The rain beat softly against the windows as he packed the Origin Breath Shard into its offline shield casing, wrapped his notes, and slid them into a worn canvas satchel.
He knew he wouldn't be coming back here.
But Heaven's Gate… that war was only just beginning.