Chapter 5: Fractures Beneath the Surface
The dead city of Tessera Null slumbered beneath the surface of the Earth like a forgotten god.
Long before the Sect Wars, it had been a technological marvel—a cradle of neural cultivation research. Now, it was nothing but echoes, corrupted AI husks, and shattered circuitry bathed in dim spiritual runoff. It was here, beneath the thick crust of ruin and memory, that Kai Ardent descended with Lina beside him.
The Undergrid elevator groaned, resisting every meter of descent.
"Are you sure about this?" Lina asked, voice soft over the creaking.
"No," Kai replied. "But it's the only place the Protocol pointed me to."
After decrypting the emergency transfer log, a new subroutine had activated within Kai's vision—a faint compass, pulsing with starlight, guiding him here. Wherever "here" was.
Tessera Null didn't appear on modern maps. Cultivators spoke of it like a haunted tale—engineered cultivators, psychic breakdowns, a failed AI deity. The Lotus Ascendancy had sealed it two decades ago. Which, to Kai, made it the perfect place to hide.
Or die.
The lift shuddered and stopped. A final metallic clang echoed before the doors parted, revealing an expansive corridor blanketed in dust and drifting ash. Glyphs flickered along the ceiling—residual energy, weak but still dangerous.
Kai scanned the walls. "Spiritual tech markers. Third-generation. Defensive-grade."
"Do you think it's still active?"
"I think if it was, we'd be vaporized."
"Comforting," Lina muttered.
They moved carefully. Kai walked ahead, his senses tuned to every ripple of energy in the air. He was learning now—how to feel pressure differentials, qi density shifts, and most importantly, when space itself bent in unnatural ways.
The Protocol didn't just upgrade him.
It was teaching him.
At the corridor's end, they entered what looked like a meditative archive—rows of translucent pods arranged in a semi-circle around a deactivated core. Most were shattered, the insides scorched or empty.
Except one.
The last pod on the right flickered with a faint violet hue—the same color as the Protocol's veins. Kai approached cautiously, hand extended.
As he touched the surface, a low vibration thrummed through the chamber.
"Initializing cognitive echo," a robotic voice announced.
The pod dissolved like mist.
A holographic figure appeared—tall, cloaked, and unmistakably human in shape. It did not move like a projection. It bowed.
"Protocol Heir recognized: Kai Ardent," it said.
Kai flinched. "You know me?"
"You were encoded into the emergency continuity algorithm. I am Ceres, the final consciousness of Project Star Vein. I have waited fifty-three years, nine months, and twenty-one days for your arrival."
Lina stepped closer, awe blooming across her face.
"You're an AI?"
"Incorrect. I am a soul imprint, patterned upon neural cultivation resonance. My consciousness is both digital and spiritual. I once served your father."
The chamber dimmed slightly, as if to give the moment weight.
Kai swallowed hard. "Then you know what happened to them."
"I know what the Ascendancy did. I know what your mother tried to hide in your DNA lattice. And I know what you are becoming."
Kai's breath caught.
"What… am I?"
Ceres moved forward. "You are the only known True Dual-Core Candidate—a being capable of harmonizing neural protocols with spiritual meridian flow. A vessel of infinite learning and cultivation potential. A Star Vein is not a weapon, Kai Ardent. It is a seed."
"A seed?"
"Of rebellion. Of freedom. Of cosmic balance."
Lina stepped in. "Then why did everyone who touched it die?"
Ceres turned toward her. "Because they tried to wield it as a weapon before understanding the cost. The Protocol doesn't obey commands—it resonates with purpose. And most men lack one strong enough."
The chamber shifted again.
Ceres turned to Kai. "You must grow, quickly. Your presence is already triggering old defenses. There are still hidden programs within this vault, and if they sense your ascension—"
An alarm shrieked.
"—they will attempt to erase you."
The ground quaked. Glyphs reignited along the walls, pulsing a sickly red. From the corridor they'd entered, walls split open with mechanical screams. From the cracks, figures emerged—armored constructs, long-dormant sentinels powered by corrupted spiritual cores.
Kai turned, placing Lina behind him.
"Exit?" he barked.
Ceres responded, "You must reach the Stellar Chamber. If you activate the inner node, you may absorb the first Fragment."
"Fragment?"
"There are nine. Scattered across the Earth and beyond. Without them, the Protocol will consume you. With them, you will command the skies."
Kai didn't hesitate.
He sprinted forward, Lina at his side, as the constructs gave chase—their weapons glowing with corrupted essence, their voices shrieking in binary curses. One fired a blast of condensed spiritual shock.
Kai twisted mid-run, pulling the Protocol's power through his veins.
Phase-Break, his instincts whispered.
Space bent.
The blast passed through nothing.
He reappeared beside the nearest construct, slamming a palm laced with violet energy into its core. It convulsed, then collapsed in on itself—imploding silently.
Lina leapt over the debris, Kai right behind her.
As they burst into the Stellar Chamber, a vast dome unfolded before them. At its center hovered a black crystal, pulsing slowly like a heart. The Fragment.
But they weren't alone.
From the far side, a figure stepped into view, cloaked in black, his face hidden behind a bronze spirit mask.
"Kai Ardent," the figure said. "You should not have come here."
Kai's hand lit up.
"I didn't come to play by your rules."
The masked man smiled beneath the metal.
"Good."