The rain did not stop.
It poured endlessly over the wastelands, drumming against broken steel and crumbling concrete, soaking Lian Feng to the bone. Yet he barely noticed. His chest burned with light, a warmth unlike anything he had ever felt before.
The Cosmic Core.
He stumbled back toward the slums, his ribs no longer screaming in agony, his breath stronger than it had ever been. Each step felt lighter, as though the world itself had lost some of its weight.
But reality intruded soon enough.
When he slipped back into the alleys of Neo-Beijing, the smell of damp rust and rot greeted him like an old enemy. The slum was restless tonight. Word of the falling artifact had spread like wildfire. Gangs prowled the streets, searching for scraps, while corporate security drones hovered above, scanning with beams of red light.
Everyone wanted a piece of what had fallen from the sky.
Lian Feng kept his head down, clutching his tattered sack to hide the faint glow that threatened to seep through his chest. He could not let anyone know. Not the gangs, not the government, not even the starving children who sometimes begged beside him.
Because if they knew—he would be hunted.
---
Inside the ruins of an old apartment block, Lian Feng finally stopped. His "home" was nothing more than a cracked room with no roof, its floor littered with broken tiles and scraps of cloth. The rain dripped in through shattered concrete, pooling around him, but he was used to it.
For years, this had been his world: survive one more day, one more night.
But now…
He unbuttoned his ragged jacket, revealing his chest.
The glow had not faded. In the center of his sternum, faint lines of silver light pulsed like veins of liquid starlight, converging at a point of pure brilliance. It wasn't painful—not anymore—but it radiated a power he could not comprehend.
Lian Feng pressed his hand against it, and the instant his skin touched the light, visions surged again.
Galaxies spiraled before his eyes. Endless seas of stars. Beings wreathed in fire, in shadow, in lightning, clashing across space. Each one radiated power far beyond human comprehension.
And then—words.
"Core synchronization: 1%. Initiating adaptation."
His breath caught. His body convulsed, a shock rippling through his muscles. It was as if something inside him was rewriting his very existence.
He fell to his knees, gasping. The pain was unbearable—yet different from the beatings he had endured all his life. This pain had purpose. This pain promised power.
Minutes—or hours—passed. When he finally collapsed against the wet floor, his chest no longer glowed so brightly. Instead, it pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of a second life within him.
And his body felt… new.
He stood slowly, testing his strength. His vision was sharper; he could see every droplet of rain as it fell. His hearing was clearer; even the distant hum of drones above the city was distinct. His muscles felt denser, stronger, as if a lifetime of hunger had been erased in a single night.
Lian Feng clenched his fists. For the first time, he didn't feel like prey.
---
But the world did not wait for him.
A sudden noise made him freeze. The sound of footsteps—multiple, heavy, echoing against wet concrete.
Voices followed.
"Boss said the artifact landed nearby. Search every building."
Lian Feng's eyes widened. The military patrols had already reached the slums. Their silhouettes appeared through the rain: armored soldiers in black exosuits, rifles humming with energy. Red searchlights scanned every ruin.
He ducked behind a cracked wall, heart pounding. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs felt rooted to the ground.
If they found him, if they scanned his chest—he was dead.
The soldiers spread out, their boots splashing in puddles. One passed so close Lian Feng could see the glow of the man's visor.
"Anything?" another called.
"Negative. Just trash."
Trash. That was what they always called people like him.
The soldier turned away, and Lian Feng finally exhaled. But then, as if mocking his relief, a faint glow pulsed from his chest again—just enough to catch the soldier's eye.
"Wait." The man froze, visor snapping back toward the wall. "What was that light?"
Panic surged through Lian Feng. His body moved before his mind could decide. He sprinted, bursting out from cover.
"Stop!"
Shouts rang out. Plasma rifles charged with a shrill whine. Bolts of energy tore through the rain, searing the air where Lian Feng had just been.
His feet pounded against cracked pavement, faster than they had ever moved before. His lungs burned, yet he didn't tire. The world blurred around him, every heartbeat carrying him further, faster.
Bullets hissed past him, but none struck. His body twisted, reacted, as though some invisible force guided him.
He leapt over rubble, ducked under collapsed beams, slid across wet concrete. The soldiers cursed, unable to keep up.
For the first time in his life, Lian Feng realized something terrifying—
He wasn't running like prey.
He was running like a predator.
---
At last, he burst into the deepest alleys of the slum. The soldiers' voices faded behind him, their searchlights swallowed by the night.
Lian Feng collapsed against a wall, chest heaving. His hands shook, not from fear, but from exhilaration.
That speed—that power—it hadn't been his before. It was the Core.
He looked at his hands, rain dripping from his trembling fingers.
"What… am I becoming?"
No answer came. Only the steady pulse of the Core within his chest, beating like a second heart.
---
The next day, the slums buzzed with rumors. The government had locked down the city. Entire districts were sealed, citizens scanned at checkpoints, anyone suspicious dragged away.
Whispers spread: The artifact is alive. The government wants to find the host. Anyone caught hiding information will be executed.
Lian Feng listened in silence, his jacket pulled tight over his chest.
No one could know. Not yet.
But as he sat alone in his ruined room, he couldn't ignore the truth: he had been chosen.
For what purpose, he didn't know. But he felt it in every breath, every heartbeat. The Core was more than power. It was a path.
A path that reached beyond Earth, beyond the stars themselves.
And though he didn't yet understand it, a single thought echoed in his mind, louder than hunger, louder than fear.
He would never be prey again.