—The End Was Only the Beginning.
Morning light spilled across the city skyline.
July 1, 2031.
The weather was clear. No wind. Just a thin mist clinging to the ground—like the world hadn't fully woken up.
Shawn lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, unblinking. He'd lost count of how many times he'd woken from a nightmare like this.
Fragments flashed through his mind—
The edge of the Source Realm.
The moment he emerged from the Rift.
And the look in Da's eyes as everything began to fall apart.
Now—nothing.
His fingers instinctively pressed against his chest—where the Thunder Core had once pulsed.
Gone.
And not just that.
His Central Core—his system's anchor—had fallen silent too. Like a well run dry, abandoned by time.
He sat motionless, a hollow ache spreading through him.
He reached inward, trying to summon his Soulenergy.
No spark.
No trace.
He extended his senses, searching for any fluctuation in the energy fields around him.
Still nothing.
He tried connecting to the Interface Network. The command fell flat.
It was like standing at the edge of an abyss—no echo, no resistance, only emptiness.
His shoulders slumped under the crushing realization.
This was the version of himself he had never imagined—stripped bare, his enhancements gone, his abilities erased. It felt like being torn from the warmth of tech-augmented life and thrown, naked, into a world too vast and uncaring.
Eventually, he pushed himself up and crossed to the window.
The city was stirring—joggers on the sidewalks, shopkeepers unlocking their doors, commuters spilling toward the subway stations.
It was alive.
It was fine.
It was… too fine.
There was something unsettling in that level of normalcy.
Like a stage reset, waiting for the next act.
"Is it really over?" he muttered. His voice cracked—raspy, dry.
Then his phone lit up.
A harsh red glow cut into his vision.
He spun around. His chest clenched.
The countdown had returned:
2031.10.01 | T–90D | 18:29:59
2031.10.01 | T–90D | 18:29:58
2031.10.01 | T–90D | 18:29:57
"…What the hell?" The words escaped before he could stop them.
Another countdown?
He snatched the phone, unlocking it in a rush.
System clock: July 1st, 2031, 05:30 AM.
Everything appeared normal.
The July 1st—meant to reboot everything—had never activated.
The Loop didn't reset.
The world hadn't restarted.
He'd thought it was over.
And yet, here it was.
A new timer.
This one ticking toward October 1st.
Precisely 90 days.
"What is it counting down to…" he murmured, fingers gliding across the screen as he hunted for answers.
He dove into the logs, scanning for the source.
Encrypted.
Every single line.
Labeled: "System-level irreversible preset."
No origin.
No app signature.
No permissions requested.
It wasn't a program. It felt more like a hard-coded command—something that had bypassed even his deepest systems.
Then, a message blinked across the bottom of the screen:
Status Before Launch: Stable
After Countdown Reaches Zero: Irreversible Execution.
A cold knot twisted in his gut. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
Something was coming.
A new plan. One he hadn't initiated. One he didn't understand.
Who had set this?
And what, exactly, was set to be "executed" in 90 days?
Whatever it was, it had already begun.
He opened the news apps and scrolled through the official feeds.
One headline after another lit up the screen, all echoing a single chorus:
"The Community of Shared Human Destiny Initiative enters full implementation!"
"Source Integration Strategy Released — Vision Ark Prepares for Launch!"
"Chairman Da Leads Humanity into a New Era! Consciousness Integration Marks the Dawn of a Higher Civilization!"
The web was ablaze with jubilation. Not a hint of dissent anywhere.
News platforms, social media, personal blogs—every channel pulsed with synchronized praise.
"Thank you, Chairman Da, for showing us the way!"
"Chaos ends—unity begins. We rise as one!"
"The Vision Ark is our salvation—our only path forward!"
Shawn read in silence.
"...Is this what we feared most?" he muttered.
"If destiny is designed… if minds are merged… is freedom already dead?"
His phone buzzed.
Another message—this one encrypted.
Just one line:
Urgent: Vision Ark is about to launch. Must be stopped. 10:00 AM tomorrow. Meet at Yiyuan Villa, Sunzen. —Kent
Shawn's chest tightened.
Kent.
Still Secretary-General of the reformed Meta Origin Society. Once bearer of the Mountain Core—lost now, like Shawn's own, both absorbed into the silence of the Central Core's final call.
And the Heaven Core?
Elder Lee—was he still around? Still watching from the shadows?
What about Mr. Ranzi—his former Meta Kung Fu instructor, now newly appointed as Grand Hierophant? Where did he stand in all this?
Faces from the past surged to the surface—fighters, friends, founders of the resistance.
Yiyuan Villa, Sunzen—one of the earliest human contact points within the Meta Realm System—has endured countless trials and destructions, yet it always rises again. For it is the spiritual home of the Meta Origin Members. Today, the Meta Origin Society stands there, carrying forward the original vision and unwavering belief.
If Kent was calling for a rendezvous there—it could only mean one thing:
A high-level assembly.
Shawn stared down at his phone, then slowly exhaled.
He was no longer enhanced. No longer a Core-bearer. Just a man—unarmed, unplugged, and unremarkable.
Would his presence even make a difference?
But a flicker stirred inside him.
His memories were intact.
His mind was clear.
And his will—untouched.
He still had something to offer. Not tech, not power—something deeper:
Humanity. Thought. Defiance.
He moved with quiet purpose, gathering what he could. Threw a bag over his shoulder. Headed for the door.
Just as he reached the threshold, his phone lit up again—this time with something far colder:
"Countdown confirmed. Starting point activated."
"You have been designated: Observation Variable."
He froze.
Whose system was this?
The Source Realm?
The CP-Hub?
Or something that stood even higher?
"I'm not a variable," he said under his breath.
"I'm the residual will."
The view pulled back.
Morning sunlight shimmered across the rooftops.
And far beyond the city's tranquil façade, reality itself had begun to split at the seams—again.