"Bang!"
Kael Voss clenched his fists, slamming one firmly against the carbon-fiber workbench in his cabin.
"Break it open with tools." The decision came after hours of agonized deliberation.
Violence had always been a last resort—crude, unrefined, and irreversible. Yet it was the only option left.
The thought of damaging the ornate vessel made his chest ache. Its iridescent green alloy, etched with delicate leaf-like patterns, had captivated him from the moment he'd tripped over it. If there was any other way to pry it open, he would have seized it in an instant. But the seamless cap refused to budge, resisting even Gareth's gene-enhanced strength.
Asking the senior apprentices for help crossed his mind—their advanced augmentations might crack the seal. But Kael had long since begun to see the vessel as his own. The Seven Luminaries Tech Conglomerate was a nest of power-hungry operatives; anyone could be the rightful owner—an Overseer, a core division leader, or even a member of the Elder Council. If word got out, he'd be forced to surrender it, and he was far too curious about its contents to let that happen. For all he knew, it held a lost gene formula, a vial of rare bio-energy, or even a fragment of Dr. Thorne's precious Immortality Codex. He was willing to gamble that whatever lay inside was worth more than the vessel itself.
The curiosity gnawed at him, a relentless itch he couldn't scratch. Sleep would elude him until he uncovered its secrets.
Resolved, Kael slipped out of his cabin under the cover of the Verdant Bio-Dome's simulated twilight. He snuck into the maintenance storage shed—a cluttered space filled with discarded tools, broken energy scanners, and rusted alloy scraps—and selected a plasma-forged mini-hammer, its head dense with reinforced tungsten. He tucked it into his tunic and slipped back to his quarters, moving silently to avoid drawing attention.
Inside, he rummaged through the corner of his cabin, pulling out a chunk of discarded carbon-titanium alloy—leftover from the dome's last structural upgrade. He cleared a flat spot on the floor, set the alloy brick down, and carefully laid the vessel across its surface, ensuring it wouldn't roll.
Kael raised the hammer, pausing for a split second to steady his hand. He brought it down gently on the vessel's rounded midsection.
"Crack!"
The sound was sharp, but the vessel remained unscarred. He'd held back, afraid of destroying whatever lay inside. Seeing no damage, he let out a breath—he could afford to hit harder.
"Crack!" Fifty percent strength.
"Crack!" Seventy percent.
"Crack!" Full strength.
"CRACK!" Beyond his limits.
Each strike grew more forceful, his arm swinging in wide, desperate arcs. The hammer blurred as it slammed into the alloy vessel, sending sparks flying when it glanced off the carbon-titanium brick beneath. On the final blow, he put every ounce of his Unnamed Protocol-enhanced stamina into the swing—enough to shatter synthetic steel. The vessel sank half an inch into the brick, but when the dust settled, its surface remained flawless. Not a scratch, not a dent—just the same shimmering green alloy, unblemished.
Kael stared in stunned disbelief. He reached out, running his fingers over the spot where the hammer had struck. It was smooth, cool to the touch, as if the impacts had never happened.
This was no ordinary container. It was a piece of advanced technology far beyond anything he'd seen in the Conglomerate's databases—something that shouldn't have been discarded on a remote walkway of Aurora Peak. It must have been lost, not abandoned. And somewhere on the mountain, its owner was likely searching for it. If he wanted to keep it, he needed to hide it—permanently.
In Kael's mind, finding something on the ground made it his by right. He wasn't a thief; he was a scavenger, raised to take what fate offered. But if the owner was one of the Conglomerate's elite—those core operatives who lived in luxury while frontier kids like him starved—he had no intention of returning it.
He'd seen their excess firsthand: core disciples in sleek, gene-optimized uniforms, wasting nutrient rations that could feed his family for weeks; Overseers who threw credits around like dust, while villagers back home scraped for energy shards to keep life support running. He'd felt their contempt too—snide remarks about his threadbare clothes, mocking glances at his unmodified genes, even a brutal beating from a group of privileged apprentices when he was younger. They'd left him bruised and humiliated, and he'd never forgotten the injustice.
The vessel's owner was probably one of them—a high-ranking operative who'd dropped it carelessly, not even noticing its absence. Let them search. Kael wasn't giving it back.
He unclipped the bio-synthetic waterproof pouch from around his neck. His mother had made it for him before he left home, stitching it from the hide of a desert beast to protect a small gene-enhanced berry pendant—Lila's favorite, a token to keep him safe. He unfastened the drawstring, tucked the vessel inside alongside the pendant, and pulled the cord tight. The pouch hung snugly against his chest, hidden beneath his tunic.
Kael glanced around his cabin, ensuring no one had seen. Satisfied, he straightened his shoulders, patting the slight bulge over his heart. The vessel was safe—for now.
He slipped back to the maintenance shed, returning the hammer to its place. Then he wandered the Verdant Bio-Dome's pathways, moving slowly to avoid straining his still-sore toe, until the simulated night fully descended. Only then did he return to his cabin, exhaustion finally catching up to him. As he lay on his cot, he could feel the faint warmth of the vessel against his chest—a silent promise of secrets yet to be uncovered.