The morning light in Neo-Tian Academy was sterile, filtered through layers of atmospheric shielding that made every sunrise look manufactured. Kael stood in the back of the mess hall, unnoticed as always, while students crowded the center tables, laughing, comparing sect invitations, and flaunting new badges engraved with their cultivation rankings.
Zera Valen sat at her usual table near the front, surrounded by a half-ring of students too proud to speak first. She ignored them, eyes locked on her terminal. A holographic screen hovered above her tray, flickering slightly as if detecting interference.
She frowned. It was the third time today.
"Your aura's unstable again," someone beside her said.
She waved the comment away. "It's not my aura. Something's off with the scanners."
Her tone cut off any further guesses.
Kael quietly picked up a nutrition bar and left. No one stopped him. No one even saw him.
But as he walked past the exit arch, the academy's spirit array flickered again. Just for a moment. A ripple passed through the air, faint but unmistakable—like the hum of a tuning fork no one else could hear.
Kael paused.
The sensation from the previous night had returned. Not fully, but enough to make the air feel heavier around him. He looked down at his palm, half-expecting something to glow. Nothing did. But he could still feel it—like something vast curling around him, invisible and patient.
He needed to know what had changed.
Back in the dormitory, Kael pulled the small diagnostic cube from his locker. It was standard issue for all students: a Federation-made device that scanned body metrics and spirit resonance. He'd used it before, dozens of times, and it had always returned the same result.
Null.
He set it on the desk and placed his fingers on the two input pads.
The cube flickered to life.
Scanning…
For the first time, the light shifted from blue to gold. But only for a second.
Then the screen cracked.
Not a glitch. The device literally fractured down the center and powered off with a sharp hiss of smoke.
Kael stared at it, stunned.
Before he could react, a new screen blinked into existence in front of his eyes—no device involved.
Lines of shimmering text scrolled across his vision, in a language he didn't understand but somehow knew.
\[Initialization Complete.]
\[Epoch-God Seed Bound to Host: Kael Saran.]
\[Spiritual Cultivation Path: Concealed.]
\[External Detection: Disabled.]
\[Conceptual Domain Access: Locked.]
His heartbeat stuttered. These weren't system prompts from any Federation interface. They felt older. Raw. Less mechanical and more… alive.
"Are you awake?" Kael asked aloud, not sure what he was talking to.
Nothing answered. But the text faded, replaced by a single symbol: a swirling circle of interlocked stars.
It pulsed once. Then vanished.
Kael sat back, pulse racing.
He was no longer undetectable. He was unreadable. The seed had replaced every known form of cultivation logic with something hidden beneath layers of shielding, invisible even to machines.
And yet, he could feel it pulsing inside him now—just beyond his reach, like the outline of a door he didn't yet know how to open.
A knock came at the door.
He scrambled to hide the broken scanner, stuffing it into a drawer.
Zera's voice came through the crack.
"Open up. I know you're in there."
Kael hesitated. Then opened the door.
She looked at him, eyes narrowed. "Something's wrong with the array field again. They said it happened near your route."
He didn't answer.
Zera leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms.
"You've been quiet. Even for you. What are you hiding?"
"Why do you care?" he asked.
"I don't. But if there's an anomaly, and it started with you, it could be dangerous. I like answers."
Kael stared at her. She was brilliant, but she wasn't cruel. Not exactly. Just sharp-edged. Like someone who'd grown up being the best and hated surprises that didn't come from her.
"You said I wasn't normal," he said. "You were right."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I think… I touched something last night. Something from the old layers."
Zera's expression changed slightly. Not fear. Not curiosity.
Worry.
"You went into the Core Vault?"
He nodded once.
"No one's supposed to enter that chamber."
"No one could stop me."
Zera pushed past him into the room, looking around with the scrutiny of someone trained in more than spirit arts. Her eyes landed on the drawer, just for a second.
"You're going to get yourself erased," she muttered. "You know what the Federation does to anomalies."
Kael stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"I don't think this is a Federation artifact. I think it's older."
Zera turned to face him fully now, her silver eyes no longer cold.
"You should destroy whatever you found. Whatever touched you."
"I can't," Kael said. "It's not an object. It's… inside me."
Silence stretched between them.
Outside the window, another cruiser lifted off in the distance. This one didn't carry students. It bore the emblem of a royal sigil—foreign, delicate, shaped like a lotus blooming through stars.
Zera followed his gaze.
"That ship doesn't belong to the Federation," she said quietly.
Kael nodded.
"I think someone's coming."
Zera looked back at him, her expression unreadable.
"Then whatever you did… it's already too late."