After the geothermal crisis was resolved, Neo's standing within Prism became untouchable. Even the staunchest pragmatists, men who once muttered against him in shadows, could not argue with results that kept the base alive. Leighton's faction fell silent—for now. But the silence was heavy, the kind that comes before a storm.
It was then that Dr. Dane's invitation finally arrived.
This time it wasn't to his office, nor the open halls of the labs. He led Neo deep underground, past checkpoints and sealed corridors, until they stood before a vast alloy door layered with three separate security locks.
"Mr. Neo," Dane's expression was more serious than Neo had ever seen—tinged with something else too. Excitement. Almost reverence.
"Beyond this door lies the core of the Fireseed Project. I formally invite you to join us. But you must understand: once you step through, you will carry knowledge no one outside this chamber is meant to see. Knowledge that brings both responsibility… and danger."
Neo's eyes lingered on the door, steel glimmering in cold light. His pulse quickened. Whatever lay beyond was more than technology—it could be the truth of this broken world. Or a deeper abyss. Evelyn's warnings echoed in his mind. Yet curiosity, hunger for knowledge, and the faint hope of reshaping this world burned stronger.
He nodded. "I understand, Doctor. I choose to see it."
The door slid open without a sound.
Beyond was no sleek, gleaming laboratory. Instead, the chamber looked more like an archaeological site—a cavern retrofitted for containment. In the center loomed something that defied description.
It was not a mech. Not any recognizable machine. Nearly three stories tall, shaped in flowing irregular curves, forged from a material that was neither metal nor stone. Its surface was etched with intricate patterns glowing faintly blue, natural yet mathematical, pulsing like veins beneath a giant's skin.
The very air vibrated with its presence. Ancient. Powerful. Every cell in Neo's body shivered.
"What is this…" His voice was a whisper.
"We call it the Primordial Relic," Dane said softly, eyes alight with fervor. "Or, in other words… one of the sources of the Dark Tide."
The words hit Neo like a hammer. He spun to face Dane. "You're saying this… thing caused the world's end?"
"Not entirely." Dane's gaze never left the relic. "More precisely—it may be the remains of a higher civilization's construct. An energy nexus, or a carrier of information. We believe the Dark Tide wasn't a natural disaster. It was fallout—triggered by a failed, uncontrolled experiment. A leap across dimensions. This relic may have been the key device."
He gestured to the forest of instruments surrounding the artifact, wires and probes feeding data streams into humming consoles.
"The Fireseed Project isn't about salvaging scraps of the old world. It's about understanding and mastering the knowledge locked in this relic. If we succeed, we don't just restore the past—we open the future. Imagine it, Neo: limitless clean energy, matter reconstruction, even the possibility of healing the poisoned earth."
Infinite energy. A healed world. Temptation of the highest order.
Neo's instincts cut through the dream: "And the risks?"
Dane's tone darkened. "Extreme. Every activation we've attempted carried catastrophe. The relic distorts local physics—time warps, spatial rifts, anomalies. Worse, it attracts abominations. Some of the stronger mutants may even owe their existence to its energy pulses. And within… we suspect a defense mechanism. Or perhaps a fragment of consciousness. Every probe we send in is violently repelled."
Neo's breath chilled. Evelyn had been right. This was playing with fire. Worse than fire—this was gambling with the same force that had ended civilization.
"Does the council know? Does Leighton?"
"The high council knows only fragments—value, not detail," Dane admitted. "As for Leighton, he knows we research a risky new energy. He opposes it bitterly, calls it a threat to Prism's survival."
Neo understood now. This was the heart of Prism's schism: Dane's faction sought to gamble for a rebirth, while Leighton's chose grim survival, rejecting all risk.
"Why me?" Neo's voice was steady. "You've studied this for years. What makes you think I can help?"
Dane turned, eyes gleaming. "Because your knowledge is not fragmented, Neo. You think in systems, in principles that surpass even ours. Your grasp of energy resonance, phase mechanics, harmonic design—these are precisely the barriers we face in decoding the relic's patterns. We believe you may hold the key to… communicating with it."
"Communicating…" The word tasted absurd. He was an engineer, not a mystic.
Yet when his gaze fell on the relic again, something stirred inside him. The glowing patterns no longer seemed random. To his eyes they bent into shape—like a colossal energy circuit. A topology. Alien, yes. But familiar at its core.
A shiver ran through him. His professional instincts sparked to life. He could almost… read it.
Curiosity, vast and dangerous, swelled. If he could truly unravel this…
"I'll need every piece of data," Neo said at last. "Every test log, every activation, from the beginning. I won't touch it until I've mapped the risks myself."
Dane's face broke into a smile—victory disguised as warmth. "Of course. From this moment, you have full access. Welcome to the Fireseed Project, Neo. Remember—our goal isn't power. It's understanding. Civilization's fire, reborn."
When Neo left the chamber, his shoulders felt heavier. He carried not only secrets, but the weight of a decision that could ignite hope—or ash the world a second time.
The Primordial Relic pulsed behind him, veins of blue light flowing like breath.
Evelyn's warning echoed in his mind. Leighton's defiance loomed on the horizon.
And Neo himself—the foreign soul in a borrowed body—now stood at the edge of a fire too great for any one man to hold.
The seed had been lit. Whether it would light a path forward, or consume everything in flames, no one could yet say.