V – The Sound of Glass and Prayer
The air still burned.
Kaodin's lungs filled with smoke and metal as he pushed a slab of fractured wall aside. The ruins of the Hong residence groaned like a dying beast — torn conduits sparking, pipes hissing white vapor. The Crimson Veil alarms wailed in distant echoes through the dome, muffled by collapsing corridors.
He staggered to his feet, half-blinded by dust.
"Mrs. Hong! Xiao Ying!"
A faint cough answered him.
Through the haze, Mrs. Hong's metallic hand thrust upward, gripping a broken beam. Kaodin rushed over, heaving the debris free. She rose shakily, her synthetic joints flickering where insulation had melted.
"I'm all right," she rasped. "The reroute held… barely."
Her eyes swept the wreckage. "Ying!"
"I'm here!" Xiao Ying's voice came from beneath a tilted support frame. Kaodin dropped to his knees, bracing the beam while Mrs. Hong pulled the girl out. Xiao Ying clung to her mother, coughing but alive.
Relief hit Kaodin — then vanished.
Because behind them, half-buried in twisted alloy, lay Cee-Too.
His chest cavity had been torn open by a fallen column; the faint gold glow of his core sputtered like a candle in wind.
"Cee-Too…" Kaodin whispered, crawling closer.
The android's head turned weakly. His voice was static-thin.
"Kao… did… did we keep them safe?"
Kaodin's throat tightened. "Yeah. You did. Everyone's safe."
A flicker of light danced behind the boy's irises — an echo of a smile. "Good… balance maintained…"
The glow dimmed.
"Stay with me!" Kaodin shook him gently, ignoring the shards cutting into his palms. "You hear me? Stay in the balance, just like you said!"
No response.
Only the soft hum of cooling servos.
Mrs. Hong placed a hand on Kaodin's shoulder, her voice trembling despite its composure. "His core's cracked. Once the energy leaks below fifteen percent, there's no restart. I'm sorry, child."
Kaodin bowed his head, jaw clenched. "No. I'll fix him. I swear."
Before anyone could answer, Mrs. Hong's wrist comm blinked — Zhang Bo's voice cutting through static.
"Hong, report status. Sector Nine's readings just spiked."
She steadied her breath. "Alive. Minimal injuries. One synthetic down — Cee-Too. We're near total collapse of our housing block."
"Acknowledged. Stay put — security units are en route. Priority extraction for you and your daughter."
Kaodin lifted Cee-Too's limp body in both arms. The weight was deceptively human.
"I'll carry him," he said. "He's not staying here."
Mrs. Hong met his eyes — saw the fire there — and nodded once. "Then help us reach the service passage. Drones are already descending."
They moved fast through the broken corridor, the world above them in ruin.
Flames licked the walls; smoke coiled through the shattered ventilation ducts. The hum of automated sentry drones echoed overhead — mechanical angels descending through the dust.
Kaodin led the way, slamming his shoulder against a jammed door until it burst open. Outside, the security droids had formed a perimeter, pulse rifles glowing blue. They turned their scanners toward the trio, recognized their IDs, and switched to escort mode.
"Civilians detected. Safe route: north sub-corridor to shelter Delta-2."
Mrs. Hong exhaled shakily. "Good. We're not far."
But the reprieve didn't last.
From the outer gate beyond the ruined sector came a different sound — deep, guttural, rhythmic.
The CC had come.
Creatures of corpse-black flesh and burning eyes, drawn by the vibration of the Thorium blast and the scent of living energy.
They poured through ruptured maintenance tunnels in twisted silhouettes, their movements like jerks of broken marionettes.
"Contact front!" one of the droids barked, opening fire. Blue plasma tore through the smoke, cutting down the first wave — but more followed, climbing the walls like insects.
Kaodin handed Cee-Too's body to Xiao Ying, steady and gentle. "Hold him. Don't let go."
He turned to Mrs. Hong. "I'll clear the path. You move when I say."
Her mouth opened to protest, but she saw the look in his eyes — and didn't.
He stepped forward, drew in a deep breath, and centered his stance.
The Qi within him stirred.
Still unstable. Still wild.
But alive.
"Move with the world, not against it," he whispered — the words his father used to often mentioned to him, flashes back like he had just heard him spoke again a few minutes ago.
He exhaled — and the air ignited.
Flames roared along his arms as he struck outward, a fusion of old technique and new power.
His elbow swept in a perfect arc — "Sork Fai – The Elbow Ignition Surge."
Qi-charged combustion expanded from his strike, forming a circular blast that sent the front ranks of CC shrieking backward in molten ash.
"Go!" he shouted.
The droids advanced in sync, escorting Mrs. Hong and Xiao Ying through the breach Kaodin had made.
He covered their flank, every strike guided by instinct — knees, elbows, and the whisper of fire.
When the last creature fell, he turned back to the others, chest heaving.
Mrs. Hong called out over the comm, "We're through the line! The path's clear!"
Kaodin nodded once — then froze.
A pulse hit him — faint, distant, yet unmistakable.
A heartbeat not his own.
Liara's.
He turned toward the eastern horizon, where the Archive quarter shimmered through the smoke.
Mrs. Hong noticed his expression. "What is it?"
"Someone's hurt," he said quietly. "Someone I have to reach."
"Kaodin—!"
He looked back at her — at Xiao Ying clutching Cee-Too's still frame, at the mother shielding them both — and his eyes softened.
"Stay in the balance," he whispered to the fallen android. "I'll bring it back."
Then, without another word, he leapt from the ruined street into the fire-lit haze.
The silence after the blast was worse than the sound itself.
Every surface in the Data Archive Nexus vibrated with residual energy.
The glass panels bled light; data conduits flickered like dying stars.
Wanchai stood before his daughter's cultivation pod, one hand pressed to the trembling glass.
"Hold on, my star," he whispered. "Don't you dare leave me now."
Liara's breathing faltered inside the chamber. Her skin shimmered faintly beneath the mist — veins glowing blue, then fading.
The console readouts screamed warnings:
[GENETIC DEGRADATION + 47%]
[THORIUM RADIATION LEVEL CRITICAL]
[STABILIZER SERUM — DEPLETED]
He grabbed for the last vial on the tray, slamming it into the port. The chamber hissed; mist swirled around her again.
Her pulse steadied — then faltered.
Wanchai's chest tightened. "No, no, no…"
She stirred faintly, voice barely audible through the glass.
"Papa… it's everywhere… the light…"
"Don't talk."
Her lips curved weakly. "It's beautiful. It feels like… him."
"Who—?"
"Kaodin," she breathed. "He's burning… but not burning. I can feel it."
Wanchai froze. His console blinked — detecting a cross-frequency resonance on the dome's lower spectrum.
Kaodin's Qi.
The boy's energy had somehow synchronized with her deteriorating field — stabilizing it, however faintly.
He stared at the readings in disbelief, then activated the comm link.
"Zhang! It's Wanchai — Liara's condition's collapsing. The Thorium flux is accelerating her decay!"
"How long?"
"Hours — maybe less. She needs the stabilizer mix processed in the Medical Hub chamber. The compound can't activate outside the reactor cycle!"
"Understood. Cee-Ar-Tee and escorts are inbound. Hold your position."
The line cut.
Wanchai looked back at his daughter — fragile, beautiful, her life measured in breaths and numbers.
He pressed his forehead to the glass.
"Forgive me, my love. Your father's about to break every rule he's ever kept."
He gripped the manual crank of the door and began to turn. The old gears shrieked, red lights flashing.
Outside, firelight rippled through the corridor.
Somewhere in that storm, a boy was already running toward them — guided not by sight, but by a heartbeat he couldn't ignore.
Kaodin stood in the drifting smoke, his breath a rasp in the dying light.
Around him, the corridor smoldered — metal twisted, flesh and ash fused into one.
The Carnivorous Corpses (CC) had fallen quiet, their blackened remains twitching as flame still ate through them. The scent was unbearable — burnt iron, old blood, and something sweet that made the stomach twist.
Wawa prowled in slow circles beside him, spectral fur flickering red and blue, eyes twin embers in the dark. Its low growl rolled through the air like thunder under silk.
Kaodin looked down at his hands. They still burned faintly with Qi, smoke curling from his knuckles.
He exhaled hard — the flames extinguished, leaving trails of light fading into nothing.
From somewhere beyond the perimeter, the security drones signaled an all-clear.
[Sector breach — contained.]
[Casualty report pending.]
[Reinforcement requested at western gate.]
Kaodin turned, scanning the broken skyline of the dome through fissures in the alloy walls.
Half the district was dark; the rest flickered erratically — a wounded heartbeat stuttering against the storm.
He could still feel the faint echo — Liara's pulse, calling through the noise.
But another voice reached him first.
"Kaodin. This is Command."
Zhang Bo's tone carried the weight of authority and exhaustion in equal measure.
"Mrs. Hong and her daughter are en route to Delta Shelter Two. You are to assist Cee-Ar-Tee in maintaining perimeter defense until the evacuation routes are cleared."
Kaodin hesitated, eyes narrowing toward the Archive quadrant. "Sir… someone's still out there. I can feel them."
"We have no life signs registered outside secure zones."
"It's not on your sensors," Kaodin said quietly. "But it's real."
A pause. Static hissed between them.
Zhang's sigh was audible.
"I don't know what you are, boy — but if you trust your senses, make it count. Just don't die doing it."
The channel cut.
Kaodin glanced back toward where Mrs. Hong and Xiao Ying were being escorted. He saw the girl clutching Cee-Too's broken frame, her face streaked with ash and tears. Mrs. Hong's gaze met his across the distance — a silent exchange.
She didn't tell him to stay.
She simply nodded, eyes fierce, knowing he had already made his choice.
He adjusted the wrappings on his forearms, whispering under his breath:
"Stay in the balance, Cee-Too… I'll bring it back."
Then he turned east, toward the Archive Nexus — toward Liara.
Wawa's form shimmered beside him, shifting larger, the faint roar of flame curling from its chest. Together, they vanished into the burning haze.