George Martinez PoV
The phone yanked me from sleep at 0430 hours. Captain Reynolds' voice crackled through the speaker, stripped of its usual measured calm.
"Martinez, I need you at Jeffrey Fontana Park. Now. Full tactical gear."
I sat up, already reaching for my uniform. "What's the situation, sir?"
"Unknown. Just get here."
The line went dead.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the park's empty lot. Military vehicles clustered near the center, their headlights cutting through the pre-dawn darkness. A green tent had been erected around something, its canvas walls bulging with the silhouettes of equipment and personnel.
Captain Reynolds met me outside, his face drawn tight. "Sergeant, we have a situation that defies conventional explanation."
"Sir?"
"See for yourself."
He led me into the tent. Equipment covered every surface. Laptops, sensors, devices I couldn't identify. Ten soldiers stood in a semicircle, weapons raised toward the center of the space.
Where a black portal floated in midair.
The thing looked exactly like every science fiction movie had promised. A perfect rectangle, maybe ten feet tall and equally wide, its surface an absolute void that swallowed light. No frame supported it. No machinery generated it. It simply existed, suspended three feet off the ground like a tear in reality itself.
"What the hell is that?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
"We were hoping you could tell us." Reynolds gestured toward the pile of weapons and equipment scattered on the ground beneath the portal. "Everything we tried to send through came back out. Guns, radios, even a combat knife. The portal rejects them."
"Have you tried sending a person?"
"We were waiting for you."
Of course they were. I was the expendable one, the sergeant who'd volunteered for every dangerous assignment since enlisting. The guy who walked into hostile territory first and asked questions later.
I studied the portal's surface. No ripples, no distortion, just pure black nothingness. "Any readings from the sensors?"
"Nothing conclusive. No radiation, no electromagnetic signature, no heat variance. It's as if the thing doesn't exist according to our instruments, yet there it is."
I unbuckled my sidearm and set it on the ground. "If equipment doesn't make it through, no point carrying it."
"Martinez, you don't have to—"
"Someone has to go first, sir. Might as well be me."
I approached the portal slowly, half expecting it to lash out or explode. The air around it felt normal, no temperature change, no static electricity. Just a black rectangle that shouldn't exist.
I reached my hand toward the surface.
My fingers passed through without resistance, disappearing into darkness. No sensation, no cold or heat, nothing. I pulled back, examining my hand. Everything looked normal.
Deep breath. One step forward.
The world inverted.
Darkness gave way to brilliant light. I stumbled forward onto grass, real grass, impossibly green and vibrant. My lungs filled with air that tasted clean, pure in a way I'd never experienced. The sky stretched overhead in perfect azure, a sun blazing alongside two moons that hung in impossible proximity.
Knowledge slammed into my mind.
Information flooded my consciousness like someone had opened a fire hose directly into my brain. Cultivation. Spiritual energy. Vital energy. Realms of power that transcended human limitations. Body Tempering, Meridian Opening, Spirit Awakening. Terms and concepts I'd never heard before suddenly made perfect sense, fitting together in a comprehensive framework of human advancement.
My elemental affinity: fire.
The knowledge showed me how to sense spiritual energy in the air around me, how to draw it into my body through meditation, how to temper my skin and muscles and bones until they surpassed normal human limits. This was real. This was possible. This was being offered to me right now.
I looked down at my empty hands. No weapon, no radio, no way to defend myself if this paradise turned hostile. Panic clawed up my throat.
I spun and dove back through the portal.
The tent materialized around me. Soldiers jumped back, weapons tracking my sudden reappearance. Captain Reynolds grabbed my shoulder.
"What happened in there, Sergeant Martinez?"
I stared at the pile of rejected equipment, my mind still reeling from the download. "Sir, I... I received knowledge. Directly into my mind. About cultivation, about spiritual energy, about something called elemental affinity."
"Explain."
"It's like someone downloaded an entire education into my head in seconds. I know things now that I didn't know before. About realms of power, about tempering the human body beyond normal limits." I made the sign of the cross, the gesture automatic. "Sir, with all due respect, the only explanation for this portal's existence is divine intervention. There's a God doing this."
Murmurs rippled through the assembled soldiers. Several crossed themselves.
"Sergeant, you're telling me that portal is some kind of... divine gift?"
"Yes sir. The knowledge I received, it's too vast, too perfect to be anything else. And the world inside..." I shook my head, searching for words. "It's paradise, sir. A cultivation paradise designed to elevate humanity beyond our current limitations."
The portal vanished.
One second it existed, the next it simply wasn't there. The tent felt suddenly empty, the absence of that black rectangle leaving a void in more ways than one.
Captain Reynolds swore. "Where did it—"
Someone burst through the tent flap. "Sir! The light pillar just reappeared three blocks west!"
We abandoned the equipment and ran.
Three blocks west, the pillar had already drawn another crowd. We sprinted through San Jose's streets, the captain barking orders into his radio. Military vehicles converged from multiple directions, but civilians were already pressing close to the new portal location.
"Establish a perimeter," Reynolds commanded. "No one enters until we understand what we're dealing with."
The same ritual repeated. Green tent, electronic equipment, armed soldiers forming a barrier around the obsidian monument that had materialized in the middle of a parking lot. Car alarms wailed from vehicles crushed beneath the pillars.
I stood outside the tent this time, watching the crowd grow. News vans pulled up, reporters shouting questions. The portal vanished again three hours later, reappearing four miles south.
After the fifth relocation, Captain Reynolds gathered us in a hastily established command post.
"New orders from command," he said, his jaw tight. "We stop trying to contain it. Someone wants this accessible to the public, and we're wasting resources fighting the inevitable."
"Sir?" I kept my voice neutral despite the relief flooding through me.
"We go in, Martinez. Establish a base camp inside, document everything, determine if this represents a threat to national security." His eyes met mine. "You're point on this operation. Pick five soldiers. Bring whatever equipment the portal allows."
Six hours later, I stood at the portal entrance with my team. We'd tested every piece of equipment we could think of. Guns and explosives vanished the moment we tried to push them through. Radios and laptops disappeared. But somehow our cell phones passed inspection, along with basic camping gear, MREs, and first aid supplies.
"Remember," I addressed the five soldiers I'd selected, "we don't know what's on the other side. Stay alert, stay together, and if anything goes wrong, we retreat immediately."
The grassland welcomed us like before. My team emerged one by one, their faces registering the same shock I'd felt during my first visit. Knowledge downloaded into their minds, cultivation techniques flooding their consciousness.
"What the hell was that?" Private Brody grabbed his head.
"Divine knowledge," I said. "Get used to it. This is our new reality."
We set up camp near the monument, our military-issue tents looking absurd against the pristine landscape. The dual moons cast strange shadows across the plain while we worked.
With our new cultivation knowledge, several of us decided to sit and attempt this cultivation while others stood guard. Private Brody volunteered first watch, his rifle useless but his eyes sharp as he scanned the grassland. The college kid from earlier, the woman in business attire, and two other soldiers joined me in meditation.
I settled onto the grass, crossing my legs like the knowledge suggested. The spiritual energy pressed against my skin, invisible but tangible. Like standing in humidity so thick you could feel it on your tongue.
Breathe. Draw it in. Let it seep through your pores.
The energy resisted at first, slipping away when I tried to grab it. Not physical, not quite mental either. Something in between that required a different kind of focus. I matched the breathing pattern from the Chaos Genesis Body Art, willing my skin to open, to accept what the air offered.
A trickle broke through.
Warmth spread across my forearm where the first spiritual energy penetrated. Not burning, but intense. Electric. The sensation traveled up my shoulder, across my chest, down my other arm. My skin drank it in like parched earth accepting rain.
More energy followed the first breakthrough. The trickle became a stream, then a flood. Heat saturated every inch of exposed skin, spreading deeper with each breath. My body knew what to do with it somehow, the cultivation technique guiding the process without conscious thought.
Something dark oozed from my pores.
I opened my eyes to find black tar coating my hands, my arms, probably my face based on the smell hitting my nostrils. Like rotting eggs and chemicals mixed together. The woman in business attire looked equally horrified, her professional suit ruined by the same disgusting substance.
The knowledge flooding my mind identified the substance immediately. Impurities. Every human body accumulated them over years of exposure to pollution, processed foods, environmental toxins. The first layer of Body Tempering expelled them through the skin, leaving behind this disgusting black tar.
Over the next few hours, my team and I established a rotation. Three cultivators meditated while three stood guard, though our rifles sat useless against the obsidian monument. When someone broke through to the first layer, they'd sprint back through the portal to San Jose, find the nearest bathroom or water source, scrub themselves clean, then return to cultivate toward the second layer.
The process repeated itself at second layer. More black tar, more desperate cleaning sessions, more embarrassed explanations to confused civilians who witnessed our arrivals covered in foul-smelling goop.
By day six, we'd settled into a comfortable rhythm. The spiritual energy no longer resisted my absorption attempts. My skin had transformed into something closer to polished marble than flesh, tough enough that I'd accidentally broken a coffee mug back on Earth just by gripping it normally.
Civilians arrived in increasing numbers. The college kid with the skateboard became a regular fixture near our camp. The woman in business attire meditated daily, her professional demeanor never cracking even when covered in cultivation byproducts. An older businessman appeared on day three, settling into meditation without speaking to anyone.
None of us talked much. The cultivation demanded focus.
Then everything changed.
A presence descended on the Eastern Region that made my newly refined senses scream. Pure divine authority, overwhelming and absolute. Every cultivator in the grassland looked up simultaneously, drawn by power that transcended mortal comprehension.
He floated impossibly high, yet I could see him as clearly as if he stood beside me. Young features, elegant bearing, robes that seemed woven from starlight itself.
His voice carried across miles without effort.
"Mortals of Earth who have passed through the sacred portals, I am the Eastern Region God, guardian and overseer of the cultivation region you are now in."
Objects materialized in the air, thousands of them, streaming down toward every cultivator. One landed in my palm. A token, warm and smooth, carved with patterns that shifted when I tilted it.
I bit my finger hard enough to draw blood, my toughened skin resisting before finally breaking. The token drank it eagerly, establishing a connection that settled into my chest like a second heartbeat.
Merit points. Communication functions. Contract enforcement. The knowledge downloaded cleanly, organized and clear.
Then the God descended toward the monument, and the ground began to shake.
Buildings erupted from the earth around us. Not gradually, not piece by piece, but fully formed and rising like flowers blooming in fast forward. Obsidian structures spread outward in perfect concentric circles, their mirror surfaces reflecting the dual moons overhead.
Our tent slid across the grass as the construction expanded. Not violently, just steadily pushed outward as the city claimed more territory. I grabbed the tent pole to keep my balance, watching in awe as streets materialized, buildings rose, entire districts took shape in seconds.
The expansion continued for what felt like minutes but might have been longer. Ring after ring of obsidian construction, spreading outward from the central monument like ripples on a pond. Our camp moved with it, sliding smoothly across the grassland as if the earth itself was conveying us to the city's outer edge.
When the shaking finally stopped, I looked back toward the monument.
Miles. We were miles away now, positioned somewhere in the city's outer rings. The white sphere at the monument's peak was barely visible in the distance, a tiny dot of light marking the center of this impossible metropolis.
American City. The God had called it American City.
I stood there, hand still gripping the tent pole, staring at the greatest miracle I'd ever witnessed.