The rain in Skyfall wasn't water.
It was runoff—chemical-laced coolant, broken nanogel, and liquefied chi waste from the towers of Neo-Ilium. It bled from the top of the world like heaven itself had ruptured and forgotten how to stop leaking.
Jian Lin stood beneath a shattered viaduct, watching the mist drip from a vine-wrapped bridge. His implant buzzed.
> [ZONE ENTERED: SKYFALL RUINS – HAZARD LEVEL 5]
[SECT GRID: OFFLINE | NETWORK ACCESS: BLOCKED]
[RECOMMENDED GEAR: BIOSKIN FILTER | TOXIN MASK]
[CURRENT GEAR: NONE]
He smiled, bitter.
No corp surveillance. No Yulan overwatch.
Just ghosts. And maybe, finally, the truth.
---
The Skyfall Bio-District had once been a marvel—towering domes, genetic sanctums, self-healing buildings pulsing with life. Now it had collapsed inward, its fleshlike structures warped into cancerous spirals. Vines of synthetic tissue crawled across cracked ground. Pools of glowing liquid sat like forgotten gods waiting for worship.
And somewhere beneath it all, Wren waited.
Jian moved like a phantom through the ruins, breath even, footfalls soft. His White Needle form had tightened since the fight with Coil. He wasn't stable, but he was sharpening.
> [WHITE NEEDLE FORM v1.0 – SYNC STABILITY: 82%]
[INTERNAL CHI FLOW: BALANCED]
A good sign.
He passed beneath a derelict dome covered in faded clan emblems. An old lotus terminal sat cracked and moss-covered at the edge. Jian paused to rest a hand on it.
Then he heard it—a mechanical hum. Not wind.
Too rhythmic.
A patrol.
---
The drone burst from a fallen archway—corp frame, sect-modded, rebuilt from scrap and rage. Its arms bristled with arc-lashers. Its chassis bore a repurposed emblem: a cloud split by a sword.
Broken Cloud Sect.
Jian didn't run.
He bowed.
"I seek Wren of House Yulan," he said, voice clear. "Disciple code 117-YX. I carry his shard."
He lifted the flexible glass strip taken from Coil's body.
The drone paused. Scanned.
Then launched its cable whip.
---
Jian dove.
The first lash cracked the air above him. The second came in lower—faster.
He activated White Needle Dash. His muscles locked as chi surged through his legs.
> [SKILL ACTIVATED: WHITE NEEDLE DASH]
[DURATION: 3.2s | CHI DRAIN: 6.4u]
He spun low and kicked a broken shard of ferroglass into the drone's lens.
It staggered.
He struck—two fingers extended, chi swirling wild. He fed unstable Flame Aspect into a modified pressure technique. It wasn't approved. It wasn't safe.
> [UNAUTHORIZED TECHNIQUE DETECTED]
[SUCCESS RATE: LOW]
[PROCEEDING ANYWAY...]
He jammed his palm into the drone's core.
Heat burst outward in a crooked, roaring surge.
The drone twitched, glitched, then collapsed in a tangle of limbs and sparks.
> [HOSTILE NEUTRALIZED]
[ACCESS NODE UNLOCKED – DESCENT PLATFORM ENGAGING]
The floor beneath Jian shook.
From a pile of collapsed rubble, a lift emerged—marked in a fusion of Corp circuit patterns and ancient chi glyphs. Symbols pulsed faintly along its edge.
Jian exhaled.
And stepped on.
---
The descent was slow. Quiet. Blue light pulsed along the platform's edge like a heartbeat.
When it stopped, the air shifted—colder, but alive. Jian stepped into a hollowed biomech atrium, where vines pulsed with stored chi and the walls whispered with memory.
A figure emerged from the dark.
Worn Yulan robes. Half his face scarred and replaced by grafted plating. Cloak stitched from broken scrolls and old discipline threads.
Wren.
"You were the last project I ever coded," Wren said.
His voice was calm, but beneath it lay static. Regret.
"I watched them delete everything. My clearances. My mind. But I remember you. And I know one thing for certain."
He stepped forward.
"I didn't corrupt your implant."
Jian didn't flinch.
"Then who did?"
Wren turned to a wall display—an ancient chi-tactical readout covered in sect glyphs and movement charts. As the interface powered on, a symbol bloomed on screen.
A serpent. Eating its tail.
Hydracores™ – Immortalize Your Combat Lineage.
Top Sponsor: Olympus Trial League.
Jian's jaw locked.
"They were in my final match," he said. "They called themselves neutral."
"They lied," Wren replied. "They needed a scapegoat. One seed to burn while the other ripened."
Jian's voice dropped. "So what now?"
Wren looked at him.
"Now you write a scroll they can't steal."
---