The van didn't stop for five hours.
Kyren sat in the back, knees pulled up, the spear propped against his shoulder like a coiled animal. Chiyo leaned in the corner, icing her knee, eyes never closing. Jamo tapped through data on a flickering pad, cursing every few minutes under his breath.
"Your face is everywhere," he said. "Undernet, high-level forums, even corporate burner feeds. The footage didn't just go viral — it's spreading in layers. They're building a legend in real time."
"I don't want a legend," Kyren muttered.
"That's not how this works anymore."
Rios, driving, didn't speak until the road dipped into a tunnel.
"Guild's rotating squads across sectors. You just forced them to move faster than protocol allows. That gives us a crack."
"A crack for what?" Chiyo asked.
"Vault Zeta."
The van went quiet.
Kyren raised an eyebrow. "What's Vault Zeta?"
Rios smirked. "Something old. Dangerous. And locked. But based on the chaos you stirred up? The seal might be glitching."
"You want me to break into it."
"I want you to claim what was already yours," Rios replied. "Before someone else does."
---
They arrived near Sector Nine — deeper into the stacks than Kyren had ever been. No signals. No streetlights. Just the thrum of old machines humming under cracked pavement. The air tasted metallic.
Rios led them to a half-buried building covered in ivy and rust. A faded emblem above the sealed door read:
> ARCHIVE LOCKSITE: ZETA
ACCESS DENIED
The wall next to it pulsed faintly with glyphs Kyren didn't recognize — until the spear in his hand vibrated.
He stepped closer.
The glyphs shimmered, shifted, and rearranged to mirror those on his arms.
The door clicked.
Then opened.
Inside was a corridor lit by low red glow panels and lined with empty stasis pods.
Jamo shivered. "This place feels like it remembers screaming."
Kyren's steps echoed as they walked. Deeper. Deeper.
Until they reached the vault.
It wasn't a room. It was a chamber — circular, open, and echoing with resonance. In the center, floating midair, was a device the size of a heart.
Metallic. Glowing. Whispering.
Kyren heard it before he saw it fully.
The spear in his hand buzzed.
> "That's part of me," it said. "Or used to be."
Kyren stepped forward.
The relic pulsed.
A voice echoed in his mind — his own, but fractured.
> "You are not the first, but you are the last. Complete me, and the story won't be theirs to write."
Kyren reached out.
His palm touched the relic.
The room lit up with red light. The glyphs on his arms flared.
And then—
Laughter.
Not his.
Not anyone's.
Just raw, unfiltered glee.
The relic sank into his chest.
The spear bent slightly in his grip.
> "Connection restored," it whispered. "We're whole again."
Kyren gasped, staggered back. Images flooded his mind — battlefields, voices, scripts, broken versions of himself. Echoes of power that didn't belong to him yet pulsed in his spine.
He collapsed to one knee, panting.
Chiyo caught his arm. "Kyren—"
"I'm fine," he growled.
But he wasn't.
He was awake in a way he hadn't been before.
---
Back at the safehouse, Jamo paced. "We need to use this. All of it. The footage, the bounty spike, the relic upgrade. This is influencer-grade chaos. We could funnel attention, start a donation stream, sell fake merch, whatever it takes to generate funds."
Kyren blinked. "You want to make money from this?"
"Yes. Because hiding isn't working. We need a flow — resources, allies, leverage."
Rios nodded. "It's not the dumbest plan."
Chiyo raised an eyebrow. "It's close, though."
Jamo grinned. "It's not just profit. It's misdirection. If we choose how people see him, they'll chase the story, not the truth. That gives Kyren space."
Kyren glanced at the screen. New memes. Fan art. Threat lists.
His myth was growing without him.
"Fine," he said. "Spin it. But nothing stupid."
"No promises."
---
That night, Kyren stood alone in the courtyard behind the safehouse, testing the relic's effect on his movement.
Every time he swung the spear, the air distorted slightly. Glyph trails lingered longer. Momentum responded faster.
He closed his eyes. Let rhythm guide him.
Step.
Twist.
Strike.
The spear followed.
Technique Eleven: Mirror Vein Loop.
He split his own afterimage — and it moved.
Only half a second, but real.
He exhaled.
This was power.
But also warning.
Chiyo approached from the shadows. "You're shaking."
"I'm stabilizing."
"You're scared."
"Yes."
She nodded. "Good. That means you haven't lost yourself yet."
He didn't reply.
She stepped forward, touched his arm.
"You're still Kyren."
"Maybe."
"No maybe," she said. "Not to me."
He turned, leaned his forehead to hers.
"Stay close," he whispered.
"Always."
---
Jamo, meanwhile, sat with Kairashi, building a rig from spare tech.
"I want a power-up," he said.
"You'll get one," the child answered, dangling upside-down. "But not for free."
"I figured."
Kairashi grinned. "You're not weak. Just... inconvenient."
"Thanks."
"Your path's chaotic. That means your gift will be, too."
Jamo paused. "What kind of gift?"
"One that explodes. Probably."
He sighed. "Great."
---
By sunrise, the vault footage had leaked.
Someone had recorded Kyren touching the relic.
The UnderNet exploded again.
They weren't calling him Laughing Flame anymore.
Now it was:
> KYREN OMARI – RESONANCE BREAKER
Classification: Forbidden Tier
Value: Asset/Threat
Recommended Action: Contain or Co-opt
Kyren stood by the window, watching the screen update.
Chiyo handed him coffee.
"You're not underground anymore."
"I never was."
He turned to her.
"We need to build something permanent. A place. A system."
She nodded. "A sect."
"A house," he said. "A myth with structure."
Jamo cheered from the back. "Yes! Can we have jackets?"
Kyren smirked.
"Yes, Jamo. We'll have jackets."