Morning came slowly to the slums of Neo-Beijing.
Not with sunlight—sunlight rarely reached this place—but with the familiar noise of people arguing over scraps, drones buzzing overhead, and the distant rumble of megacity traffic miles above their heads.
Lian Feng sat in his ruined room, knees drawn close to his chest, eyes fixed on the faint glow beneath his shirt. All night, the pulse of the Cosmic Core had echoed through him like a quiet drumbeat. He hadn't slept. He wasn't even sure he could.
His body felt… different.
Stronger.
More awake than he had ever been.
But that wasn't the part that scared him.
What scared him was the pull—a strange instinct deep in his bones, like the Core was whispering to him.
Grow. Adapt. Evolve.
He swallowed hard and looked at his trembling hands.
He had spent fifteen years surviving on scraps, pushed around by gangs, ignored by everyone. Now, suddenly, his body felt like it was holding a storm inside it.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" he whispered.
His voice sounded foreign to his ears—steadier, almost fearless.
---
The Slums Wake Up
Outside, the day was already chaos.
Vendors argued over stolen goods. Gang members marched through alleys, checking every corner with suspicion. Families huddled behind broken doors, terrified of the soldiers patrolling main streets.
Everyone was searching.
Everyone wanted a piece of the fallen artifact.
And if they found out he had it inside him…
Lian Feng clenched his fists. That could never happen.
He left his ruined room and slipped into the alley. His movements felt lighter—like he was gliding rather than walking. He kept his head down as the Red Fang gang stomped past.
"There's increased security today," one gang member muttered. "Think they found something?"
"Doesn't matter," another grinned. "If the government doesn't, we will."
Lian Feng kept moving. He needed food. Power didn't change the fact that he was hungry. But as soon as he entered the main street of the slum, he realized that today was different.
People were staring at him.
Not all—just a few. But their eyes lingered. Not on his face…
On his chest. On the faint glow that pulsed beneath his jacket every time he breathed.
He froze.
Did they see something? Did he accidentally reveal it?
A woman narrowed her eyes. "You feeling sick, kid? You look… strange."
Instinctively, Lian Feng stepped back.
"I'm fine," he said quickly.
"Sure you are," she muttered. "Everybody's 'fine' before they start glowing and exploding."
He turned away and walked faster.
The slums had seen mutations before. Alien war residue, illegal drugs, failed experiments. Anyone "different" was either captured by the government or kidnapped by gangs.
He couldn't stay here much longer.
---
Testing the Power
He slipped away to a deserted storage lot at the edge of the slums—an old factory ground with rusted machines and fallen beams scattered everywhere.
It was quiet. Safe enough.
Lian Feng looked around, breathed in slowly, then finally whispered:
"Let's see what you can do."
He dug his nails into the metal beam beside him and pulled.
The beam bent.
Bent—like soft clay.
His breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened.
He pushed harder.
CRACK.
The steel snapped in half.
Lian Feng staggered backward, staring at the broken metal in shock. A laugh—raw, disbelieving—escaped his lips.
He had never been strong. Never.
He'd always been the smallest, the weakest, the one who ran instead of fought.
But now…
He grabbed a chunk of concrete and squeezed.
Dust exploded between his fingers.
His heart raced.
His hands trembled.
Not from fear this time—but from excitement.
The Core pulsed gently, as if acknowledging his awakening.
A warmth spread through him again, smoother than before, almost like encouragement.
"So it wasn't a dream…"
He felt his chest and whispered, "What else can you do?"
As if answering him, the Core's voice echoed faintly in his mind:
"Adaptation level: 2%. Neural enhancement in progress."
A shock ran through his skull—sharp, bright, almost electric.
Lian Feng gasped as his senses exploded.
Suddenly he could hear distant conversations blocks away.
He could see individual raindrops falling.
He could feel the tiny vibrations in the ground.
It was overwhelming—painful, even—but the sensation faded quickly, settling into something… natural.
Human senses were too weak for what the Core demanded.
His pulse steadied.
Then a noise cut through the air sharply—footsteps.
Heavy. Rushed. Desperate.
Lian Feng pushed himself behind a collapsed machine just as three Red Fang members entered the lot.
"You sure you saw someone run in here?" one asked.
"Yeah. Kid was moving fast. Faster than normal."
Lian Feng closed his eyes.
They were hunting him.
Another gang member growled. "Boss said the artifact might've fused with someone. If we find that person… we're set for life."
Their footsteps came closer.
Lian Feng's breath slowed, heart steady.
He didn't feel the usual fear—no trembling, no panic.
The Core made him calm. Focused.
His instincts sharpened.
One of the gang members stepped behind the machine he was hiding behind—
Lian Feng moved.
Fast.
He slipped out of hiding and sprinted toward the open lot. The gang shouted immediately.
"There! Catch him!"
They chased him, but Lian Feng hardly felt their presence. He dashed forward, weaving between debris with inhuman reflexes. Bullets zipped past him, hitting metal and concrete—but his body shifted instinctively, evading every shot.
He wasn't just fast anymore.
He was predicting movements before they happened.
But soon, he hit a dead end—a collapsed wall blocking his path.
One of the gang members grinned. "Got you now, orphan."
Lian Feng turned around slowly.
And for the first time in his life… he didn't feel cornered.
He felt something else.
A hunger.
A hunger not for food but for survival—no, for growth.
The Core pulsed once.
Lian Feng stepped forward.
"What are you—"
Before the man finished, Lian Feng struck.
A single punch.
The gang member flew backward, crashing into rubble with a scream.
The others hesitated—fear flickering in their eyes.
"What the hell is he!?"
"Doesn't matter—kill him!"
They rushed him.
Lian Feng didn't retreat.
He moved.
Not like a child.
Not like a runner.
But like a force of nature.
He dodged, struck, twisted, countered—every motion smooth, instinctual, terrifyingly precise.
In seconds, both gang members lay groaning on the ground, unable to stand.
Lian Feng stared at his trembling hands.
His breath came faster and faster until he dropped to his knees.
Not from fear.
From shock.
From the realization of what he had just done.
He had beaten three grown men—armed, trained, ruthless—with nothing but his bare hands.
"What… am I turning into?" he whispered.
But deep inside, the Core pulsed gently, almost like it was pleased.
---
The World Shifts
Lian Feng stood slowly.
He knew now—he couldn't stay hidden forever.
The gangs were searching for him.
The government was scanning the city.
And the Core… the Core wasn't done evolving.
His life as a scavenger was already over.
"This power… it's going to change everything," he said softly.
He looked at the slums—the place that had broken him, starved him, erased him.
Now, for the first time, he wasn't afraid of it.
He wasn't afraid of anything.
He pulled his hood up and stepped out of the lot, disappearing into the rain.
The world thought the artifact was lost.
But the truth was far more dangerous.
The artifact had awakened.
And it was wearing the face of a forgotten orphan.