The Unconventional Anomaly alert didn't trigger any alarms at the elite academies, whose sensors were programmed only to recognize the highly pure and predictable signatures of sanctioned Inner Force usage. But at Grimstone Mech Academy—the 15th-ranked institution known for taking philosophical risks—the signal was received with quiet interest.
The alert landed on the desk of Anaya Patel, a third-year theory student whose expertise lay in predicting the behavior of non-standard Bio Energy systems. She was a quiet, meticulous woman who had chosen Grimstone specifically because it allowed her to study the integration of ancient cultivation with modern tech—a path her own traditional family had found scandalous.
Anaya stared at the terminal display. The signal's plot was mesmerizing: a brief, terrifying spike of energy that defied every established law of Cultech efficiency.
Asymmetric. Non-Standardized. Off-grid source.
Anaya felt a wave of professional excitement. It was beautiful chaos. Her supervisor at Grimstone, a jaded researcher, would have immediately dismissed it as sensor failure. But Anaya's theoretical work was centered on the belief that innovation occurs at the edges of failure.
She cross-referenced the signal's properties with the known databases. It did not match any current Top 5 experimental signature. It did not match any known low-grade tampering. It was unique.
She spent the next few hours working meticulously, using Grimstone's limited resources to triangulate the source. The signal led directly to Kai's district, Sector 4.
Anaya, driven by her passion for unconventional truth, chose to violate protocol. She bypassed the standard bureaucratic channels—which would have surely dismissed a signal from the low-born district—and filed a Low-Level Technical Inquiry, routing it to her immediate superior: Dr. Victor Zhao.
Meanwhile, Kai was back in his workshop, attempting to patch a minor circuit burn left by his defiance pulse. He was feeling a quiet, satisfied sense of closure—he had pushed back.
As he worked, his captured drone from Chapter 4 suddenly activated a low-power, dormant signal. It was a faint, almost subliminal ping—an incoming data packet from an external source, an encrypted request for information regarding his anomaly.
Kai's paranoia immediately spiked. They were searching for him. But who? The encryption was still tied to the strange, low-level planetary cluster he'd previously identified.
He decided to play a dangerous game. He didn't respond. He simply allowed the drone to send a ping confirming its location, but layered the response with a highly complex, non-standard firewall—a coding challenge designed to prove his technical aptitude without giving away any real information.
Anaya, miles away, received the drone's faint location confirmation, followed immediately by the complex firewall. Her analytical mind registered the challenge instantly. The source is conscious, technically brilliant, and hostile.
She immediately recognized the coding style—it mirrored the chaotic, yet precise, mathematics of the energy spike.
Anaya smiled—a rare, small curve of satisfaction. This wasn't a threat; it was a communication from a fellow technical genius working outside the lines. She felt a profound, intellectual curiosity that overcame her natural reserve.
She sent a single, encrypted response—not a probe, but a single, technical question regarding the efficiency of asymmetrical energy distribution in a combat scenario. It was the question only an insider, or a fellow academic theorist, would ask.
Kai received the message on the drone. He read the question, his eyes widening slightly. It was a concept so advanced, so far removed from the practical problems of the low-born, that it could only come from a high-level academic. But the source was still the mysterious, lower-level network.
He knew he was being scouted, but not by the elite. He was being scouted by someone who appreciated the chaos. He felt a tense, profound sense of destiny—the world had finally sent a message that saw him as he was, not as he should be. He was on the verge of the next step.