Chapter 1: The Mycelial Hum
The air in Arcology 7 always carried the same scent—ozone and damp moss, tinged with something faintly metallic. It was the smell of the Mycelial Grid, the living nervous system that pulsed beneath Neo-Veridia like a heartbeat. To most people, it was just background life support, as forgettable as breathing.
But to Kael, it was alive. It whispered. And lately… it had been wheezing.
He shifted the weight of his toolkit off his shoulder, rolling his aching wrist before pressing his maintenance pass to the access panel marked Ventricle J-9. The panel shimmered, its pearl-white surface parting with a wet, mechanical hiss. The scent of bio-electric heat poured out, heavy and organic.
Inside, a mess of bioluminescent conduits pulsed like veins beneath translucent skin. Thick, glowing cords—alive, warm, almost breathing. Their steady cobalt rhythm had always calmed him. He used to joke that it was the "blue blood" of the city. Today, it felt more like a pulse on the edge of panic.
Kael sighed and pulled on his gloves. The faint static crackle clung to his fingertips.
"Just another routine diagnostic," he muttered, trying to sound bored, the way he always did. Routine was safe. Predictable. His late grandmother had spent her life warning him that curiosity killed faster than any toxin leak. She'd wanted him to live quietly, stay out of the deeper systems, and never ask why.
The Grid hummed under his breath as he ran his omni-tool along the living cables. The readings flickered across the small screen:
Flow Rate: 99.8%. Toxin Density: 0.1%. Energy Output: Nominal.
Always nominal. Always perfect.
Until the hum changed.
The omni-tool let out a shriek—a high, piercing sound that sliced through the quiet. Kael flinched, the hair on his arms standing on end. The cables before him flickered violently, their calm blue replaced by flashing streaks of green, yellow, then red.
ERROR. ANOMALY DETECTED.
TYPE: NON-BIO-TECH SIGNATURE.
SEVERITY: CRITICAL.
Kael's stomach turned cold. That couldn't be right. Non-Bio-Tech signatures didn't exist inside the Grid. The system rejected anything foreign—it was a closed ecosystem. Whatever the scanner was reading, it shouldn't be there.
He hesitated, his gloved hand hovering over the pulsating junction. The glow throbbed like a heartbeat under stress. His pulse matched it, pounding hard enough to make his fingers tremble.
"Okay, easy… let's just see what you're hiding," he whispered.
He reached in. The membrane clung to his gloves, warm and wet. A faint electrical tingle crawled up his arm as he groped deeper—and then he felt it. Something solid. Cold. Wrong.
He pulled it free slowly, and the Grid's furious flicker calmed. The cables dimmed, then steadied back into their familiar cobalt glow. The omni-tool chirped once, then fell silent. Nominal again. As if nothing had happened.
But Kael knew better.
He held up the object—a shard, black and crystalline, no larger than his thumb. It shimmered faintly, drinking in the light instead of reflecting it. Beneath the surface, a silver pulse beat like a buried star. It buzzed faintly in his palm, a vibration that felt like both sound and thought.
Aether.
The word hit him like a memory he'd never lived. The Ministry had outlawed it generations ago—called it unstable, dangerous, unholy. Anything that ran on Aether had been purged from the city centuries back. No trace should remain.
And yet, here it was.
He stared, breath shallow. The shard's inner light pulsed brighter, a rhythm syncing with his heartbeat. Then—
A soundless whisper crawled through his skull.
Not a voice. Not exactly. More like the thought of one.
FIND THE SOURCE.
Kael stumbled back, dropping the shard—but it didn't fall. It hung midair for an instant, humming, before he snatched it and shoved it into the shielded pouch on his jacket. His pulse thundered in his ears.
He slammed the access panel shut, the click of it echoing too loudly in the corridor. The Grid's hum returned to normal, soft and steady. Too steady.
But Kael wasn't steady.
His hands were shaking. His mind still echoed with that impossible voice—and the symbol it had left burned in his thoughts: a perfect circle split by a single, sharp line.
He'd spent years believing the Grid was flawless, unfeeling, perfectly balanced. But tonight, it had bled.
And for the first time in his life, Kael realized he was no longer just maintaining the system.
He was part of its secret.
And that terrified him.