The Spirit Realm wind whispered soft lullabies as Ashborn soared over the Veiled Glade of Woven Echoes, the stellar Skyrider gliding beneath his boots like a blade of celestial thought. His body cut through the realm like a comet of intent, graceful, deadly, searching.
Inside his shirt, nestled near his heartbeat, Lunavelle peeked her head out through the neck hole like a curious kitten of starlight. Her silver-blue eyes shimmered with chaotic curiosity as they passed through trees woven from memory threads and fog that whispered lost dreams.
"Tides... at night..."
She murmured once more, the words almost a reflex, as if a mantra her soul had always known.
Ashborn chuckled softly, ruffling her head gently again.
"Yea, yea... You love that line."
---
The Skyrider slipped effortlessly between the twilight-colored trunks and hovering astral thorns as Ashborn neared the Floating Lake, a surreal bubble suspended mid-air above the ancient spirit-glade. It reflected the entire realm like a crooked mirror, and as always, the reflection twisted his image. Inside the water's surface shimmered a version of him not yet born or already lost.
His reflection...
Longer spirit-threaded hair.
A crown of divine threadlight.
The Wraith MK1 suit re-rendered in fractal logic.
And his shadow? It moved independently, slithering behind him like a chained beast.
"My instincts hate this lake..."
He muttered, slowing down.
"And yet I anchored my Spirit Domain here.
Bold or stupid?"
As Ashborn descended near the floating lake to gather direction before leaving the Spirit Realm entirely, each feature of the Stellar Skyrider activated with fluid elegance, his mastery evident.
• Anti-Gravity Matrix - "Feel the Sky Like Water"
A soft hum filled the air as reality gently released its grip on gravity. The board floated with poetic defiance, obeying the gravitational null field as easily as a feather surfing solar winds. Ashborn leaned forward. A pulse. The board danced. Even the wind bent for him.
• Phase-Warp Trails - "Break Through, Not Around"
A jagged branch shimmered into view.
Ashborn didn't dodge. The board phased, turning his body into might-light for half a second, slipping through the object like liquid through fingers. No sound. No resistance. Every ten seconds, he could repeat this, pass through anything not reality anchored.
• Genesis Thread Sync - "Woven With Will"
The board no longer needed commands it was Ashborn. The sync between the Genesis Thread Core of the Skyrider and his own Cosmic Core made them a singular organism.
He thought of fear, and the board flared.
He imagined a city, and the board turned gently east.
A sliver of anger? The forward rail flickered combat-ready.
• Void-Brake Pads - "Stop Without a Cause"
A looming cliff ahead. No time to slow down.
Fsshhhkk!!
Void-Brake fired.
A soundless clench against the fabric of space.
Ashborn stopped in mid-air. Zero inertia. No recoil. He hovered, balanced in predation. A hunter is examining the horizon.
"I'm going to have to leave this dream-glade soon..."
"Still no knowledgeable spirits. Still no damn idea how this world works. Axis-E110... what the hell are you?"
• Thread Rail Mode - "Escape Route, Woven in Light"
Ashborn blinked sharply, and the Skyrider understood. A ripple extended from its tail. Threadforge Rail Mode activating.
A glowing monorail of light wove from behind the board, hanging in mid-air like a stitch in the world's skin. It spiraled upward in artistic arcs, fading slowly, releasing stardust and code-glpw as it unraveled.
If someone followed, this would be the way home or a trap.
"There. Fast-travel path encoded. If anything goes wrong..."
Ashborn's eyes narrowed as he hovered above the lake, examining the glade from high above one final time. His gaze passed the horizon, searching.
"Alright, Lunavelle... Get ready. We're heading out of the Spirit Realm. Axis-E110... I'm coming."
Lunavelle snuggled beneath his shirt again, tingling arms gripping the fabric like it was sacred cloth. Her head peeked just beneath his collarbone, her chaotic spirit aura adapting to his heartbeat, synchronizing.
"Tides... at night..."
She whispered again.
Ashborn smiled faintly, then kicked off the air.
Boom!
The Skyrider launches forward, tearing through the veil of spirit-glass skies, plunging them toward the shimmering gate at the edge of the Spirit Realm. Their trail behind them danced like a ribbon of living memory, cosmic, chaotic, and unknown.
Axis-E110 awaited...
---
---
---
[Axis-E110 - Departure from the Spirit Realm]
Location: Veiled Glade, monorail of Genesis Threadlight - Final Traverse
The monorail of Genesis Threadlight shimmered ahead like a ribbon of fate forged from Ashborn's will, spiraling upward, carving through the ethereal sky like a divine artery that cut across dimensions.
Ashborn stood firmly atop the Stellar Skyrider, arms casually at his side back relaxed, but posture predatory. The board pulsed beneath his feet, each thread of its circuitry alive with cosmic breath, mirroring his rising focus and playful anticipation.
The world below faded. Ashborn leaned forward just slightly, and the board dipped low then surged upward like a serpent leaping between clouds. Every cell of his being flowed with the ride, not resisting but channeling momentum.
Vines of glowing starlight twisted ahead like spiraling tendrils of living obstacles.
Without a single blink, the board shimmered. In less than a heartbeat, both rider and ride ghosted through the tangle, no resistance, no sound.
To an outside observer, it would've looked like Ashborn momentarily stopped existing.
Ashborn's smile twitched as the board surged faster, responding to not just thought, but emotion. A glimmer of amusement? The Skyrider playfully kicked into a slow barrel-roll, weaving left and right along the glowing rail like it was dancing.
Lunavelle squeaked in surprise, but didn't let go.
"I am surprised you're not getting any motion sickness."
He sent the message telepathically, with a grin.
Nestled beneath his shirt's head poking out through the neck hole, Lunavelle peeked up. Her eyes were wide but shimmering with joy, her chaotic essence curling gently in sync with the board's movements.
"Tides at night~"
She replied with a satisfied purr, and Ashborn almost laughed aloud.
As they soared through the glade's outer rim, the Spirit Sentinels came into view again, three of them.
Tall, eerily humanoid spirits suspended mid-air, their robes stitched from woven nightmares and distant prayers. No face just a porcelain mask too smooth and reflective.
Their forms floated still like hanging effigies...
Except one.
The middle Sentinel, again, tilted its head. Slowly.
Then blinked sideways. Not with eyes but with its entire face.
A jerking distortion of space like a frame skipped in time.
Ashborn's skin crawled.
"Nope. Still horrifying."
He casually covered his mouth with one hand, disgust twitching in his throat like a reflex but he masked it well, lowering his aura to avoid offense the last thing he needed was a multidimensional glare-off with a possible spirit eldritch archivist just before departure.
"Not even saying goodbye to you creepy bastards..."
He whispered in a low, neutral tone, as the Skyrider shot past them.
[Fully Synchronization Ride - Final Segment]
Ashborn stood straight again and reached into the heart of the board's internal framework.
Void-Brake Pads - Disengaged.
Genesis Rail Mode - Maximum weave.
Skyrider Core Drive - tuned to Ashborn's pulse rhythm.
The air ahead fractured, and the monorail split into twin rails, one weaving upward into the clouds like a starcase to the firmament, the other diving downward into the mists of deeper spirit-layers.
Ashborn clicked his tongue.
"Alright, let's make this fun."
He jumped. The board followed instantly, mid-air twist. Then he landed sideways, surfing the upward rail as if it were a ramp of light and momentum.
With every twist of the rail, the board flared brighter, dancing with him, leaning into curves, skipping across space, phasing stasis. Beneath them, glowing spirit-creatures lifted their eyes, awed by the wake of burning Threadlight the two left behind.
Lunavelle's laughter, a physical giggle fluttered through the bond.
Ashborn chuckled as his hair trailed back, catching starlight.
She was enjoying this as much as he was. Maybe even more.
"That's right, little one. You were born for the sky."
As the rail ended in a burst of light like a door being drawn open, a breach in the veil became visible ahead: an archway of shifting logic and flickering pixels.
The gate to Axis-E110.
Ashborn adjusted his stance.
The Skyrider angled.
Threadforge Rail faded behind them,
Unraveling into distant stars.
Ashborn's coat rippled like a flag of divine war.
Lunavelle clung tighter, eyes wide with anticipation.
They passed through the veil with a thunderless snap.
World Axis-E110 - Incoming.
The Spirit Realm behind them faded.
A new world, unknown and wild welcomed them with neon breath and silence.
"Let's see if this realm has answers..."
Ashborn whispered.
----
----
----
The veil closed behind him in a ripple of translucent threadlight, folding inward until nothing remained, no gate, no glow, no trace of the spirit realm's edge. Only the sacred stillness of Axis-E110 greeted him now.
Ashborn stood at the edge of a colossal grove, unlike any forest known to ordinary civilizations. It was old not in years, but in myth. Ancient in a way that even time no longer dared whisper here.
The trees towered like primordial titans, their bark textured with deep wrinkles. Each root twisted like petrified serpents, some as wide as city walls. From within their gnarled tangle, mist drifted upward, not cold nor warm, but watchful. Alive. Intentional.
The air changed.
It no longer pulsed with the vibrant, surreal hum of the Spirit Glade. Instead, it settled like velvet, silent, reverent, and sacred.
Ashborn could feel it pressing against his skin, not as resistance, but as acknowledgement. This land didn't welcome him.
It recognized him.
Bioluminescent petals began to bloom from vines hanging high above, their glow like dripping moonlight. Some petals floated down slowly spiraling, landing with gentle weight against Ashborn's shoulder before fading like ghost-ink.
Hidden among thick canopy shadows,
Crystalline birds cooed in a language not meant to be understood. Their feathers shone like refracted dreams, each movement leaving behind faint echoes of melody. Half-sung lullabies lost before they reached memory.
Ashborn stepped forward slowly, scanning the perimeter, before his eyes caught something at his feet.
A rock formation, jagged and altar-shaped partially buried under roots. Its surface was carved in glowing runes, alive with faint pulses that thrummed to the rhythm of the land's breath.
The markings resemble none of the known runic families, not divine, not arcane, not even chaos-bound. They were primordial, spiraling inward toward a central sigil, the same shape Ashborn had unknowingly passed through when entering the Spirit Glade earlier.
He knelt beside it, fingers hovering just over the stone.
"So... this is the only door to the Spirit Realm, huh?"
He murmured with thoughtful curiosity, his voice barely disturbing the air.
Lunavelle stirred.
The tiny Nocturne Bloom Seraph, curled under Ashborn's shirt like a dreaming ember, shivered from the shift in Realm pressure.
Ashborn gently placed a hand over his chest and spoke softly, not with command, but invitation.
"You okay, little one? You can come out now."
There was a pause, then, a soft shifting beneath his coat.
Lunavelle peeked her head out, blinking slowly. Her small luminous eyes flickered between hues of astral silver, twilight violet, and deep ocean blue. Hed expression held both awe and caution, like a spirit child waking into a forgotten dream.
She floated out, landing lightly on Ashborn's shoulder like a gentle mist settling on stone.
Her tiny wings shimmered faintly, their threads reacting to the strange leyline breath of this world.
She whispered again
"Tides at night..."
Ashborn chuckled lightly, his fingers brushing her hair back from her glowing eyes.
"Yeah... something tells me the tide here runs deeper than we thought."
The grove around them remained still but not empty.
The flora shifted over so slightly. Not wind... But awareness.
Somewhere far within the forgotten grove, something ancient stirred at their presence.
Ashborn's hand flexed instinctively. His system thread began weaving passively, linking combat protocols with environmental response. The Stellar Skyrider hovered nearby, but he dismissed it with a flick of his fingers,
This wasn't a place for speed. It was a place for reverence... and caution.
"Let's get moving. I doubt this world will remain this quiet forever."
Ashborn stepped past the stone altar, now pulsing slightly faster with each movement he made. Lunavelle, wide-eyed, took one last look back at the now invisible veil, then pressed her forehead to his neck with a quiet hum of trust.
---
---
---
[Location: Axis-E110 - Outskirts of the Forgotten Grove - 26 minutes after Veil Exit]
Ashborn walked with measured steps, the crunch of small rocks and fine sand beneath his boots echoing gently in the open silence.
The road was a little more than a forgotten trail, no signs, no rails, no digital interference. Only wilderness. To his left and right, the walls of ancient forest stood endless, the canopy above whispering with bioluminescent leaves and spectral pollen floating like dust in dreams.
Lunavelle sat lightly on his shoulder, hugging her knees, her luminous eyes slowly blinking as she surveyed seemingly infinite emptiness. The crystalline chirping of distant fauna had faded. In its place: silence. The kind that feels thick. Observed.
Ashborn exhaled, casting a glance down either side of the unmarked path.
"I don't think we'll find anyone here..."
His voice was calm, but underlined with a muted impatience.
The road behind them coiled back toward the tree line. The one ahead? Straight into a void of fog and gentle wind. He narrowed his eyes not even a broken lantern post, or the trace of old wheels passing here.
"Let's find a nearby city that'll at least let me defend myself... geez."
He rubbed his temple and tilted his head toward Lunavelle, who blinked once and whispered again, barely audible:
"Tides... still night..."
Ashborn managed a tired chuckle and stretched his back.
"I might as well summon the Stellar Skyrider-"
He paused, halfway into the thought.
"-nah. I don't want to get too comfortable flying everywhere."
His fingers curled open toward the air in front of him. The Genesis Thread in his palm glowed, warping into hexagonal patterns before unraveling in fractal spirals.
[Proto-Matter Bloom] - Activated Genesis Fragment Function - Material Generation Tier Alpha.
• Manifesting: Genesis-Forged Hyperion Drive.
Combat-Class Cruiser Materialized from Mythoscape Fusion.
---
From nothing came everything.
A soft hum shook the surrounding wind as threads of light spiraled from his fingers, weaving into hex-grid patterns that twisted upward like vines constructing a cathedral.
First came the frame, low and sleek like a predator in coiled stance.
6 meters long, 2.2 meters wide, pulsing with silver and violet. The liquid-metal skin shimmered, constantly shifting like starlight seen through warped glass.
The front razor-grille shimmered with serrated phasic energy fang, while the headlights activated with a smooth burst of photon-light, scanning their surroundings in a wide arc. The side fins and micro-wings unfolded with a soft shhh-chik, responding to ambient gravitational vectors like feathers adjusting to a breeze.
The Grav-Ignition wheels, at first only glyph rings, suddenly spun layered orbits, anchoring the cruiser to the road while granting levitation. They shimmered in ethereal pulse-light, able to phase or slide omnidirectionally.
Behind, the rear chassis pulsed as Quad Quantum Exhaust Arrays lit in a soft blue-white flame, humming like bottled stars.
The Plasma Spoiler snapped into place, its veins glowing with kinetic charge
"Now we're talking."
Ashborn muttered with mild pride.
---
The Cockpit hissed open.
Inside, a two-seater woven of mythfiber cushions and spiritweave stitching awaited them. The Omni-Holo Halo Wheel floated in place, its light syncing instantly with Ashborn's neutral threads. The [SERAPH-01 AI Core] greeted him silently with a pulse of acknowledgement, glyphs rippling across the etherglass dash.
Every surface inside the cabin was alive, responding to Ashborn's thoughts, breath, and posture. Even his moods. The lighting shifted subtly, the vines pulsing with the quiet rhythm of his emotion.
"Come on, little one. Take the co-pilot seat."
Ashborn opened the cockpit fully, and Lunavelle slid down from his shoulder, standing at the edge.
She looked at the interior, blinked twice, then floated in quietly. The seat molded around her small form, humming a soft cradle tone.
Ashborn stepped in next, the cruiser responding instantly.
'Genesis Ignition Protocol - Engaged.'
The Stellar Compression Core thrummed beneath their feet like the purring of a caged star.
He touched the console. With a flick of his fingers, the cruiser surged forward,
Smooth.
Weightless.
Fast.
They were no longer moving.
They were gliding through myth.
• The Hyperion Drive in motion •
Ashborn leaned into the curves of the road, and the Grav-Ignition Rings adjusted to the terrain's imperfections. Wheels didn't rotate, they orbited, dancing along the fractured road like a conductor across a string of stars.
• Phase-Drift Mode kicked in as a thick root burst from the path.
The cruiser phased, half-reality, half-light, sliding through the obstacle like water skimming over glass.
• The Plasma Afterburners flared, pushing the cruiser to Mach-level sprint in short bursts.
The road blurred beneath them.
Sand is becoming static.
• When Ashborn detected something flickering beyond the trees, a faint trace of energy, he activated the Voidflash Surge,
Shifting the vehicle 200 meters forward instantly. Reality folded, twisted, and reassembled around them in a blink.
Through it all, Lunavelle remained steady, staring ahead, the bioluminescent winds rifled through her dreamlike hair. She opened her mouth softly and said
"Far tide... always pulls forward."
Ashborn chuckled and tapped the dashboard.
"Well then, let's follow it."
The trees began to thin.
The first signs of civilization through sparse, entered their view. Latern poles of soft hexlight. A broken pillar with the engraving:
"Sector VI-B: Azure Hollow Outskirts"
And in the distant horizon, a shimmer of city towers beneath a protective dome, pulsing in layers of gold and cerulean.
Ashborn smirked.
"Finally... somewhere I can punch things legally."
He leaned into the Halo Wheel. The cruiser responded in kind.
The Hyperion Drive burned a trail of chromatic etherlight, splitting through the wind like a living myth riding toward the heart of Axis-E110.
----
[Axis-E110 - Sector VI-B: Azure Hollow Outskirts]
- "Border of the Digital-Forbidden World"
~40 Minutes Post-Veiled Exit.
Speed: 50mph
Cruiser: Genesis-Forged Hyperion Drive - Ground mode (Phase-Silent Drive Active)
Ashborn leaned into the soft hum of the Genesis-Forged Hyperion Drive, slowing it down to a calm, deliberate 50mph. The cruiser purred beneath him, all systems dimmed to observation mode. Its wheels glided over the now-structured road with not even a whisper, cushioned by Voidshock Suspension and guided by SERAPH-01's passive scan weave, mapping out every microstructure ahead in real time.
He wasn't rushing.
This wasn't just an arrival. It was a first impression, a glimpse into an alien domain. He wasn't about to miss anything.
---
The outer shell of Azure Hollow came into view slowly, like a curtain rising. It wasn't just a city it was a Convergence of the synthetic and sacred, of once-lost tech filtered through myth and mysticism. The air itself crackled faintly, as if speaking in digital tongues too old for modern ears.
Ashborn and Lunavelle passed under the first arch-gate of shifting blue hologlyphs, which silently read:
"Sector VI-B Entry Confirmed - Azure Hollow Outskirts [Tier-2 Clearance Required Beyond this point]"
Above the arch, three-pronged constructs hovered, spirit-engineered drones shaped like mechanical lotuses, petals rotating to scan him. But they didn't interfere. Instead, they pulsed with golden rings of permission, allowing passage.
"Let's take it slow, little one. Don't want to spook the hive."
Ashborn murmured, eyes flicking to the side.
Lunavelle sat co-pilot with her legs tucked in, head peeking above the console. She didn't speak just quietly absorbed everything, her irises flickering softly, echoing the same color palette as the city.
----
----
----
[City Layout - Visual Descent]
At a gentle cruise pace, the city unfolded like a map through a crystal lens.
The Skyline.
The city towers weren't built upward, but spiraled helix-shaped megastructures that rotated slowly on invisible gyros, covered in luminescent geometric etchings. Thin layers of digital wind streamed around their spines, displaying floating neon banners in a language he couldn't yet comprehend. Above, sky rails stretched like spiderwebs between towers pulsing with sleek hovercars and data-mass transport blimps, each outlined in carved threadlight.
[Ground Level]
The street network was wide, built for both heavy transit and pedestrian flow. Roads were embedded with modular terrain-tile tech, shifting shape to accommodate incoming vehicles or energy-based organisms.
Sidewalks were living conduits, biowoven vines of LED-threaded moss, where locals walked barefoot to recharge cybernetic implants via contact with spirit-generated current.
Spirit-tech markets lined either side of the street. Stall vendors part human, part program, sold everything from core shards, thought-forged scrolls, liquid data ink to fractal memory ornaments shaped like butterflies. On occasion, digital birds flew overhead, glitching slightly before resolving into true flight paths.
Ashborn saw children laughing as they levitated bubble-shaped drones, which chirped joyfully with every successful hand-gesture command. Nearby, a woman composed of holographic filaments bartered with a cloaked merchant who radiated static.
"Cyber-organic harmony," Ashborn whispered. "This place feels like a dream from a half-dead timeline."
[Outskirts Landmarks]
As Ashborn continued cruising past observation towers and low-tech plazas, his HUD marked out key structures:
• [Spire of Memory Denial] - a dark obsidian tower covered in forbidden glyphs, pulsing with error-code light. Guarded by Sentinels whose heads rotate independently of their bodies.
• [Cradle Terminal] - A transport node shaped like a fetal womb made from clear spirit-glass, used to teleport citizens between spiritual sub-realms and digitized sanctuaries.
• [Threadspire Garrison] - a defense post powered by spirit-thread constructs.
Soldiers here weren't just armed, they were templated, each radiating auras of containment fields wrapped in astral code.
• [The Echo Forge] - somewhere deeper in the city, a place Ashborn instinctively marked in his mind. It called to his Genesis thread... faintly.
[Population Behavior]
Unlike most tech cities, there was no noise. Not chaos. No honking horns. No shouting.
The population moved in symphonic synchronicity as if guided by a low-frequency directive pulse. Their eyes occasionally glimmered with data feeds, absorbed through optic synapses, bypassing speech entirely.
Some people had no mouths. Some had too many eyes.
Ashborn glanced at Lunavelle. She was smiling faintly. Her left eye shimmered with ripple-light, briefly syncing with the local net pulses. The city welcomed her.
"Feels familiar?"
Ashborn asked via pulse-thought.
"...Like a song before sleep," she murmured.
---
---
---
The Hyperion Drive adjusted smoothly as Ashborn took a slight curve into a quieter sector, passing under woven arches of conduit-tree branches and parked near a floating lantern pillar that emitted soft spirals of light every few seconds.
The vehicle rolled quietly along the glimmering data-lined path, tires humming against mineralized glass roads. Ashborn's eyes flicked between the glowing signs in cryptic script and the deep cyan lights bleeding from the tall arc-structures rising like spires of frozen thunder. The road narrowed, then opened into a sprawling city basin craddled by jagged metallic hills that curved like a shattered crown.
This was Azure Hollow, a half-abandoned fringe zone of world Axis-E110, caught between forgotten kingdoms and the algorithmic wilds of Forbidden digital realms.
Ashborn kept the vehicle at a cautious 50 mph, his fingers loose on the control sphere.
The air was thick with electric haze and static whispers, a signature of fragmented reality nearby. Beside him, Lunavelle, tucked in the passenger cradle like a small, starlit blossom, pressed her hand softly against the window.
Her silver-petal wings shimmered faintly in the cabin light, and her violet-gray nebulae eyes tracked distant sparks dancing in the air.
Ashborn's tone softened, calm but serious.
"Let's see if we can find a library here that holds all the history records of this world."
He didn't raise his voice, he didn't need to.
Lunavelle, young though she was, tilted her head in thought, her astral tendrils twitching with silent understanding. She nodded, small and solemn.
"Library... we can follow the Echo Currents.
This place still remembers things, even if no one's here to speak them."
Ashborn raised an eyebrow.
"Echo Currents?"
"The city's memory... stored in sleeping circuits. I can feel them humming. If we find the right archive node, I can open it."
Ashborn gave a slight grin. Even as a child, Lunavelle's abilities reflected something deep and ancient, an echo of forgotten gods filtered through a child's soft voice. He guided the vehicle further in, eyes scanning the skyline for signs of centralized structures.
A massive archway emerged through the misty azure: engraved with flowing data-runes and crowned with flickering satellite glyphs. Beyond it stood a half-submerged ziggurat-like building, its base sunken in shifting data swamps, its peak crowned with crystal receivers still flickering dimly.
"That structure," Ashborn muttered, "it looks like a Library-Temple Node. At least what passes for one in a place like this."
As they approached, the air grew colder, subtle, but undeniably unnatural. Spatial logic began to flutter. Ashborn felt a momentary skip in time, his hand on the wheel slightly behind where he remembered placing it.
A Temporal Synczone.
This place was half-dream, half-code. A forbidden world where information was woven into reality like living scripture.
He parked near the base of the temple structure. The road here was cracked and webbed with glass-vine roots. Strange floating particles hung suspended mid-air like frozen sparks waiting for a story to touch them.
Ashborn stepped out first, cloak sweeping lightly behind him as his boots pressed into fragmented tile that buzzed faintly under pressure.
"Stay close, Luna."
"Mhm." She replied, her eyes glowing faintly as her [Nocturne Bloom Aura] passively absorbed ambient static, restoring her glow.
They crossed the threshold of the temple.
Inside: Towering data-spires hummed with inert light. Floating panels shifted silently overhead, forming constellations of outdated system memory. At the center of the grand hall stood an obelisk-like console, half melted, but still functional, its crystalline interface pulsing weakly.
Lunavelle's tendrils drifted forward like curious vines, interfacing gently with the structure.
"... It's fragmented. But not lost. I can wake it up. But... it'll hurt a little."
Ashborn turned. "Why?"
"Too much dream-chaos here. My threads will get caught... but it's okay. I want to help."
He paused, then knelt in front of her, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.
"Do it. But if it starts burning, pull out. I'll handle the rest."
"Okay." She smiled softly but resolutely.
As her aura synchronized with the console, lights surged up the walls like awakening neurons. The air grew thicker, and memories began to swirl. Holographic glyphs shimmered into being around them:
"ACCESSING - ARCHIVED REALITY STRATA - WORLD AXIS-E110 - FILE NAME: HYPERROOT"
A voice, neutral and ancient, echoed from the console as images formed, fractured but legible.
Ashborn narrowed his eyes as layers of information unfolded before them.
• The world Axis-E110 was once part of the Multiversal Rootchain, a system of stabilized artificial domains designed to catalog, protect, and govern divergent realities.
• After a schism even known as the Echo Collapse, Axis-E110 became isolated, caught between logical collapse and chaotic recursion.
• The world is now divided into six Primary Factions, each aligned with a Core Paradigm, Magic, Technology, Divinity, Memory, Evolution, and Dream.
• War broke out over control of the Central Archive Key, a relic that could potentially reboot or rewrite the local timeline. The Digital-Forbidden Zone, where Ashborn now stands, was once the sacred domain of the Architects of Recal, archivists who stored universal design blueprints of entire civilizations.
• The power system here involves the interaction between Narrative Logic, Energy Paradigms, and Core Harmonization users shape reality through alignment with one of the six Paradigms and synchronized with a local World Frame seed.
Ashborn's brow furrowed.
"A world built to house stories... but abandoned by its writers."
Lunavelle swayed slightly, blinking slowly. Her connection was fading, but she whispered one final line.
"...There's one more file. Buried under a dream-lock. I can't open it yet... but I saw a name."
Ashborn stood tall, his voice low. "Whose?"
"Yours."
The room fell still.
Ashborn's gaze hardened his instincts buzzing. That meant someone here had records of him before he arrived.
"Then we're not just here to find a way home."
"We're here because someone wanted me here."
----
----
----
To be continued....