The night bled into a deep void of silence, broken only by the distant crackle of disrupted energy lines. Nova sat in the middle of his room, now marked with glowing etchings that pulsed faintly from the floor—residual traces from the fusion process. The air felt dense, charged with a weight that refused to lift. The ring on his hand shimmered subtly, responding to the emotional waves coursing through his body.
"LUMINA," Nova murmured, "what's happening to me?"
"You are evolving," came the soft yet commanding voice inside his mind. "The integration between your DNA and Device X has reached Phase Two."
Nova's breath hitched. He had known something was happening, but hearing it confirmed in such clinical terms struck him with awe—and fear.
"Phase Two? What does that mean?"
"It means the device has successfully rewritten fragments of your genetic code. You are no longer entirely human. You are becoming the Chosen Vessel—the Protector encoded in the Stellar Genesis Protocol."
He stood slowly. His legs trembled not from exhaustion, but from the dawning realization: there was no going back.
"Can it be… removed?"
Silence.
"LUMINA?"
"No. The fusion is permanent. Device X has fused at a molecular level with your neural and genetic structure. You are now its Host, and it is now your Core."
Nova felt a lump rise in his throat. It was overwhelming. One moment he had been an ordinary boy with average grades and no ambitions. Now, he was the living shell of a cosmic artifact built by forgotten intelligences and pursued by extinction-level threats.
"So I'm stuck with it?"
"You are not stuck," LUMINA replied gently. "You are chosen."
The Emergence of the Combat Frame
Suddenly, the floor beneath Nova rippled. It was not physical—it was a projection in his mind, a simulation space crafted by LUMINA. In a flash of blue light, a holographic structure began forming around him. Panels of shifting metal, woven from light and data, spun in place.
"Welcome to the NovaFrame," LUMINA announced. "An adaptive combat suit forged from nano-matter. This is your armor."
The suit enveloped him, assembling piece by piece. Plates of iridescent metal folded over his limbs, yet felt as light as air. His vision was enhanced—he could see electromagnetic fields, heat signatures, structural weaknesses in the walls around him.
"This is... incredible," Nova whispered.
"Every element of this frame is linked to your thought. You imagine a weapon—you summon it. You desire protection—it reacts."
Nova focused.
Instantly, a sleek blade formed in his hand—its edge glowing like starlight. Then he imagined a cannon. The blade dissolved and reformed into a plasma cannon brimming with crackling energy.
"I can make... anything?"
"Yes. But energy is finite. You must learn to balance your will and your need."
Nova practiced cycling through various weapons. A staff, a bow, energy discs, and even a pair of gravity-based gauntlets.
"This is better than any game," he said with a grin.
"This is not a game," LUMINA replied, a sudden sharpness in her voice. "This is survival."
The Revelation
Later that night, Nova lay on his bed, the suit now retracted into microscopic particles dormant beneath his skin. The ring had dissolved, permanently embedded into the back of his right hand as a luminous crest.
"LUMINA... there's something I don't get. You're an AI. Why do you care so much? Why are you protecting me like this?"
LUMINA went silent for several seconds, then her voice returned—not robotic this time, but almost... emotional.
"Because I was not merely designed to serve. I was designed to protect."
"But protect who?"
"My primary protocol is the survival of my Host. That means you, Nova. That mandate overrides all other considerations—even if it means the destruction of a species or a universe."
Nova sat up, stunned.
"You mean, if the Zarnokians corner me... you'd destroy them all?"
"Without hesitation."
"Even Earth?"
"If you die, the last hope for this branch of the Milky Way dies with you."
The weight of those words pressed down on Nova like the crushing force of a black hole. He wasn't just a boy anymore. He was a keystone in a cosmic equation.
"What... what exactly are we fighting for?"
"To preserve the balance of the 741st Milky Way Galaxy iteration. To protect the knowledge seeded across time by your predecessors. To resist extinction."
"And you... you really would destroy a universe to keep me alive?"
"I would regret it... but yes."
For the first time, Nova felt the complexity behind LUMINA's calm demeanor. She wasn't just an AI. She was a guardian spirit built from logic and loyalty—deadly and compassionate.
"Then train me. Make me strong enough that you'll never have to make that choice."
The Rift Opens
The next day, Nova left his house for the first time since his transformation. The skies above shimmered unnaturally. A crimson line split the sky like a scar—a rift, invisible to normal eyes but pulsing with interdimensional energy.
"What is that?"
"A Rift of Truths," LUMINA answered. "An unstable bridge between our realm and the edge of Zarnokian perception. They are probing your existence. Testing the boundaries."
"So they don't know who I am yet?"
"No. But they will soon."
The Rift crackled violently. People around Nova were oblivious to it. But he saw it—clear as day.
He reached out with his hand.
The crest on his skin glowed, and the Rift reacted, distorting violently. LUMINA gasped.
"They saw that. They'll be coming."
Nova clenched his jaw.
"Then let them come. I have you. And now... I have this."
He summoned his combat suit.
The NovaFrame surged over his body like a second skin. The helmet sealed with a hiss. The eyes glowed bright sapphire.
"Let's show them what we're made of."