After dispatching the patrol robots, Lin Mu leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the system window. Inside the Azure Shield Array, the world was a blur of motion. Generations were passing in hours. He watched a first-generation hybrid he had been tracking; the creature was already showing signs of aging, its chitinous limbs stiffening as it taught a group of younger hybrids how to harvest the sugary secretions of aphids.
The sight was fascinating, but a heavy wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over him. The mental strain of awakening a talent, fusing genomes, and managing a high-tech AI had taken its toll.
"Atlas, monitor the array and the collection mission," Lin Mu managed a tired yawn, his eyelids heavy. "Wake me if there's a critical failure."
"Understood, User Lin Mu. Rest well," the sphere replied, its voice a soothing hum.
Lin Mu stumbled to his bedroom, barely having the energy to kick off his shoes before collapsing. He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, the quiet of the old house wrapping around him like a shroud.
The next morning, the smell of toasted bread and fresh coffee pulled him back to consciousness. Lin Mu sat up, disoriented for a split second, wondering if he was back in his cramped university dorm. Then, he saw the sleek, matte-black form of Atlas hovering near the doorway.
"Good morning, User. Breakfast is prepared," Atlas stated.
Lin Mu walked into the kitchen to find a simple but perfect meal set on the worn wooden table. Seeing the high-tech robot in the mundane setting of his grandmother's kitchen hit him with the weight of reality. The blue screen in his mind flickered to life the moment he thought of it.
It wasn't a dream, he realized, a slow thrill running through him. The system, the ants, the power... it's all real.
He ate quickly, his mind already racing. Once finished, he decided to explore the deeper architecture of the Genesis System.
"System, open Codon Records," he commanded.
The list of recorded species had grown significantly. The temporal acceleration had done its work; eight months had passed inside the barrier while he slept. He scrolled past the early, clumsy hybrids until he reached the latest entries.
The newest generation was a shock. They had moved beyond bipedal ants; their physiques were becoming lean and human-like, though they remained small. Their skin had a metallic, chitinous sheen, and the antlers on their heads were now elegant, branching structures—organic antennas for high-frequency pheromone and mental exchange.
As he tinkered with the interface, a new function caught his eye:
[Biological Projection]
Options:
1.) Recycle Soul: Infuse a stored soul from soul palace into a physical vessel.
2.) Empty Shell: Create a mindless biological vessel for experimental use.
Lin Mu paused, his breath hitching. "Recycle a soul? I can actually... create life with a wave of my hand?"
He immediately navigated to his natal artifact, the Soul Palace. In his mind's eye, he entered a vast, shimmering crystalline hall that seemed to stretch into infinity. Floating in the air were thousands of tiny, glowing spheres, like a sea of stars trapped in a cathedral of glass.
He reached out, and a data prompt appeared as his "hand" brushed one of the lights.
[Soul Fragment: Formicidae Sapiens (Gen 3)]
Source: Absolute Domination Mark.
Note: All souls branded by the User's mark are automatically harvested upon biological death.
"So this is where they go," Lin Mu whispered. Because the Queen belonged to him, every one of her descendants was his property—body, mind, and soul. The eight months of history inside the yard had already filled this hall with the echoes of a short-lived civilization.
A daring, dangerous thought struck him. If he could put a soul into a vessel, what if he didn't use an ant soul? What if he used a human soul?
I could create a transmigrator, he thought, his heart racing. A guide from my own world to lead them.
He quickly shook the thought away, a frown marring his face. To get a human soul, he would have to find someone who had just died or, worse, cause a death. He wasn't a monster. Even if he found a "natural" source, the ethical and logistical nightmare of disturbing the dead was a bridge too far.
"I need human intelligence, but I don't need a dead human," he reasoned, tapping his fingers on the table in a rapid rhythm. "I need someone living, someone with access to the collective knowledge of the world... someone who can analyze every step they take using the input of thousands."
He thought of his own time spent scrolling through the internet back on Earth.
"A gamer," Lin Mu's eyes lit up with a cold, brilliant light. "A live streamer. If I can link a living consciousness to a vessel in the yard, I wouldn't just be getting one guide. I'd be getting the hive-mind of an entire internet audience."