---
Pain.
Raw, gnawing, bone-deep pain.
Kael Vire lay still, staring at the ceiling of a rust-stained metal shack. A flickering light panel above sparked and died, plunging the room into shadows. The air reeked of rust, damp stone, and decay.
He moved a finger. Then another.
> The host body is weak. Malnourished. Severe organ strain detected.
[ Vitality: 6% ]
[ Neural response: Stabilizing... ]
Kael sat up slowly, muscles screaming. He hissed as his hand touched the floor — jagged scraps of broken glass littered the ground beneath him.
> "This body… was dying."
His voice was hoarse. Different. Younger.
He looked down at himself: emaciated arms, rib bones visible, skin pale with purple veins like dead wires beneath the surface. No cultivation base. No spiritual energy. Not even a spark of qi.
But his mind — it was whole.
> [ Void Engine Online. Partial memory access restored. ]
[ Locked: 82.6% of cultivation and technology databanks require restoration. ]
Kael exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing.
> "Then we start from nothing. Again."
---
He rose on trembling legs, stumbling toward a cracked wall panel. Peeling it back revealed a shattered mirror — enough to see his face.
Thin. Sharp-jawed. White hair, though shorter than before. Violet eyes dimmed, but still marked with the Void. His new vessel was barely fifteen.
A boy left to rot.
> "How poetic," he muttered. "They buried me in a corpse no one would mourn."
---
Suddenly, a thud echoed outside. Shouts. Then the screech of metal being torn.
> "He's awake! The Void-sick's up!"
Kael's eyes narrowed. He turned from the mirror.
Footsteps approached fast — more than one. Scraps of metal being lifted as weapons. He didn't know the faces. But the Void Engine ran a scan.
> [ Three individuals. Age: 16–18. Local gang. Unawakened. Mild cyber-splicing. No cultivation.]
> "They're coming to finish me off," Kael muttered.
His body wasn't strong.
But his mind?
His mind was still a weapon.
---
The shack's door burst inward. A thick, rat-faced teenager led the group, holding a jagged pipe. "Heard you finally stopped drooling, freak."
Kael didn't speak. Just stared.
> "This little rat's been sucking air too long," the second one said, stepping forward.
Kael tilted his head.
> Distance: 2.6 meters. Swing trajectory: horizontal. Sloppy stance. Knee exposed.
Time seemed to slow as the Void Engine ran silent calculations.
> Prediction: Cripple with 38% energy output.
Kael moved.
Fast — not through strength, but precision.
He ducked the swing, grabbed the pipe with both hands, and pivoted. His knee slammed into the attacker's weak spot with surgical exactness. The teen screamed as bone cracked.
Kael turned to the second.
> "Leave," he said.
The boy hesitated—then ran.
Only one stayed: the leader. Pipe still raised.
Kael took a single step forward.
The leader hesitated.
Kael smiled — not with rage, but clarity.
> "Run."
This time, the boy obeyed.
---
Kael stood alone in the silence once more, breathing heavy, pain returning. He dropped the pipe.
> [ Combat efficiency: 22%. Physical exhaustion critical. Recommend rest. ]
> "Later."
He turned to the open doorway. Beyond it: a city of rust and low skies, flickering towers built on scrap and sorrow. The Outer Slums of the Empire — a forgotten sector with no qi nodes, no rich bloodlines, and no hope.
But Kael had no need for hope.
Only knowledge.
Only the Void.
> "Let's begin."
---