Tano stared at me like I'd grown a second head.
The kid's mouth hung open, snot still dangling from one nostril, plastic pipe dangling limp in his hand.
"…What did you just say?"
I cracked my knuckles—tiny, pathetic knuckles, and repeated it slowly.
"I said, hit me again and I'll shove that pipe where the sun doesn't shine. Now answer me, brat. What year is it?"
Tano blinked once. Twice. Then burst out laughing.
"Hah! You really did lose it! Elder Goro's gonna love this—'Lynch finally snapped, send him to the herb garden to pull weeds till he cries!'"
He doubled over, slapping his knee.
I grabbed the front of his ratty hoodie and yanked him close. Our faces were inches apart. His breath smelled like cheap street noodles and desperation.
"Year. Now."
The laughter died in his throat when he saw my eyes. Really saw them.
"…2026. Why? You planning a New Year's party or something?"
2026.
I let go. He stumbled back a step.
A Thousand years. Give or take. The Rift Sovereign's war—the big one that cracked the world open—was 2026 minus a century. Roughly.
Everything clicked into place like a badly oiled lock finally turning.
I was alive.
In a kid's body.
In a future where qi was hidden behind gyms and dark-web streams.
And my sect—my Ashen Drift—was apparently the joke of the city.
I looked around the alley again. Neon from the towering megacity blocks painted the trash piles in sickly pink and blue. Drones hummed overhead, probably Iron Phoenix surveillance. Somewhere far above, normal people lived normal lives, never knowing qi beasts prowled the undercity rifts.
And here I was. In rags. Surrounded by other rags.
"…This is bullshit."
Tano scratched his head. "You're telling me. You've been weird since you woke up. Usually you just whine and hide when cleanup duty comes."
I ignored him and started walking. Legs felt like noodles. Short strides. No power in the core. No storm in the veins. Just a scrawny teenager who hadn't eaten properly in who knows how long.
"Where you going?!" Tano yelled after me.
"To find out how bad it really is."
I needed answers. Real ones. Not from some snot-nosed kid.
The Ashen Drift compound wasn't far—just up the cracked concrete steps that wound around the slum mountain, past leaning shacks and flickering qi-barrier lamps. The place looked even worse up close.
Old wooden halls sagging under decades of neglect. Bamboo training grounds overgrown with weeds. A single rusty sign half-hanging: **Ashen Drift Sect – Strength Through Ash**
Strength through ash. Hilarious.
I pushed through the creaking gate.
Inside the main courtyard, maybe fifteen kids and a couple of adults were scattered around. Some sweeping. Some pretending to sweep. One girl—Mira, I think her name was, sharpened a dull training sword against a stone, glaring at nothing.
They all froze when they saw me.
"Lynch?" Mira narrowed her eyes. "You're late. Again. Elder Goro said if you skip one more—"
"Shut it," I cut her off. "Where's the old man?"
Her jaw dropped. The others whispered.
"Did he just…?"
"He talked back to Senior Sister Mira."
I didn't wait for drama. I marched straight to the biggest hall, the one that used to be the elder's quarters.
The door was ajar. Inside, an old man sprawled on a mat, empty soju bottle rolling from his limp hand. Gray hair wild. Face flushed red. Snoring loud enough to wake the dead.
Elder Goro Thal.
I kicked the bottle. It clattered across the floor.
He snorted awake, bleary eyes focusing slowly.
"…Lynch? The hell you doing barging in here like you own the place?"
I crouched in front of him. Close enough to smell the liquor and regret.
"Tell me everything. Ashen Drift. What happened. Why we're trash. And don't bullshit me—I'm not in the mood."
He stared for a long second. Then barked a laugh.
"You hit your head or something, boy? Since when do you talk like that?"
"Since right now. Answer."
Goro rubbed his face, suddenly looking older than his sixty-something years.
"Fine. You want the ugly truth? Sit."
I didn't sit. I stayed crouched, staring.
"Five years ago, our previous head—Elder Varkis, got greedy. We had one small Aether Vein left. Tiny, barely enough for elixirs. He tried to sell fragments on the black market. Thought he could pay off his gambling debts and keep the rest for sect revival."
He snorted bitterly.
"Iron Phoenix found out. Tipped off the City Veil Authority. They raided us, seized the vein, banned us from major sponsors for a decade. Varkis got hauled off. Never came back. Probably dead in some rift somewhere."
"So we lost everything."
"Pretty much. Twenty-odd kids left. No money. No sponsors. No respect. We do menial jobs—cleanup, herb gathering, occasional low-rank rift scouting nobody else wants. The other forges call us 'Drifters' because we're always drifting closer to disbandment."
He looked me dead in the eye.
"And you, Lynch? You've been here two years. Quiet. Weak qi. Always hiding in the back. Nobody expected much from you."
I stood up slowly.
"Two years…"
My fists clenched. The nails—short, bitten—dug into palms.
Two years in this body. Two years of watching my sect rot. Two years of doing nothing.
Because the real Lynch had been too scared. Too weak.
But I wasn't Lynch anymore.
I turned toward the door.
"Where you going now?" Goro called.
"To see how far we've fallen."
He laughed again—dry, tired.
"You won't like what you see, kid."
I didn't answer.
Outside, Mira and the others were gathered, pretending not to eavesdrop.
I stopped in front of them.
Mira crossed her arms. "What's with you today? You look… different."
I smirked. It felt wrong on this young face, but it fit.
"Different? Nah. I just woke up."
Tano piped up from the back. "He's gone crazy! Keeps asking what year it is!"
A few nervous laughs.
I ignored them and looked up at the foggy peak. Below us, the megacity glowed—endless towers, endless lights, endless arrogance.
A hundred years.
My comrades dead.
My name forgotten.
My sect a joke.
I cracked my neck.
"Fine."
My voice came out low. Dangerous. Even in this squeaky throat.
"If the world forgot the Stormveil Sovereign… if they think Ashen Drift is trash…"
I turned back to them. Eyes burning.
"Then I'll make them remember."
Mira blinked. "What are you even talking about?"
I grinned. Sharp. Feral.
"Training starts tomorrow. Everyone. No excuses. No hiding."
Silence.
Then Tano whispered, "He really did lose it."
I laughed. Short. Harsh.
"Lost it? Nah."
I looked at the crumbling halls. The overgrown grounds. The broken kids staring at me like I'd grown horns.
"I just found it."
This sect wasn't dead yet.
And neither was I.
The Ashen Sovereign had work to do.