A few minutes passed. Ash exhaled slowly, pushing himself off the couch. The base was quiet—its smooth metallic walls, the steady hum of hidden machinery, the soft buzz of lights overhead. Everything had its purpose. Yet, the place felt empty.
He rolled his shoulders, loosening the tension.
'I might as well eat before it gets dark.'
The automatic door hissed open, releasing a cool draft. The faint scent of food mixed with the sharp tang of metal. His boots clicked softly against the floor as he walked down the corridor, the only sound of life in the stillness.
The kitchen door slid open with a soft swish. Inside, everything was sleek and efficient. White countertops gleamed under the bright lights. Stainless steel storage units lined the walls. A kitchen bot whirred to life, assembling a meal with smooth, mechanical precision. It didn't pause to acknowledge him. It didn't need to.
Ash didn't bother waiting. He grabbed a pre-made meal from the storage unit and turned to leave. No words. No pause. The door hissed shut behind him.
'This place is still the same as always.'
Tiny maintenance bots zipped past, their spindly limbs carrying tools and supplies. One sped by, welding torch in hand.
The lights blinked—then vanished. Darkness swallowed the base.
Ash didn't flinch—not out of courage or habit, but something deeper.
A low, familiar voice stirred in his mind.
"[Activating skill: Nightstalker's Sight]"
The shadows peeled away. Shapes sharpened. Walls, crates, the thin wires snaking across the floor—clearer now than when the lights were on.
Ash's eyes narrowed.
This was his kind of vision.
'Max must be busy.'
Back in the main room, Ash sank onto the couch, tearing open the meal. Warm rice. Protein. Bland but filling. He chewed slowly, his mind wandering.
Since the beginning, the Vein system had shaped humanity. The energy within their veins determined everything—who ruled, who struggled, and who survived. Power was never a privilege—it was survival.
Ash? Initiate Rank. 5th Tier Vitalforce. Strong, but not enough. His body was capable, but his elemental power remained weak. It wasn't growing, and he couldn't figure out why.
Max? Adapt Rank. 2nd Tier Vitalforce. Too weak for his age. Born weak, but smart enough to make up for it.
Kael? Master Rank. 6th Tier Vitalforce. A fire prodigy. His strength was enough to rival even the strongest, and he never stopped chasing after their father.
Ash smirked.
'He's definitely in the training room. Throwing punches. Talking to himself about power and legacy.'
He finished his meal and stretched out, letting his weight sink into the couch. His limbs felt heavier now, warmth spreading through his body. The quiet hum of the base, the occasional click of bots working, the distant drone of air vents—it all blurred together.
Above, the world was a battlefield. Creatures older than time roamed the ruins of forgotten cities, their hunger never satisfied. Humanity had survived, but only because they were strong. The strong lived. The weak were devoured.
His breathing slowed.
His eyes drifted shut.
————
"Argh… why is it so dark?"
A voice, low and tense, slipped through the silence.
A beam of light suddenly cut across the black, sweeping over metal walls and scattered gear, then to the couch.
"Wait—isn't that you—"
The words stopped short. Like it was interrupted.
Footsteps shifted in the dark. Another voice followed, barely a breath.
"Let's move. It should be here somewhere."
Ash woke to the soft thud of footsteps echoing through the base. His eyelids fluttered open.
The base lights turned on. The darkness made way for the light.
The sterile white light above him cutting through his haze. He stretched, rolling his shoulders, muscles stiff from a night spent on the couch.
The hum of machinery filled the stillness. Tiny maintenance bots zipped across the floor, their metallic limbs clicking against the ground with smooth precision. Ash rubbed his eyes, reaching for the empty food container beside him, tossing it into the waste chute.
Then, he froze.
'Why does it feel like I'm missing something?'
A subtle itch crawled up his spine. His fingers twitched, moving instinctively to feel for something—something that should have been within arm's reach.
'Wait... my blade!'
Ash shot to his feet, the grogginess vanishing in an instant. His eyes scanned the room, darting over the furniture, the floor, and the corners where shadows stretched. Nothing.
'Where is it? Where did I drop it?'
His steps quickened as he moved across the room, checking behind the couch, beneath the table. Still nothing. His jaw tightened.
'It's never gone missing before. The kitchen? Unlikely. I'm not that careless. What about my room?'
With a quick turn, he headed for his room. The door slid open with a hiss, revealing a perfectly arranged space—his bed undisturbed, the storage locker closed, a few personal items neatly lined up on the shelf. Not a single thing was out of place.
Except for his blade.
Ash exhaled through his nose, the air leaving him in slow, controlled breaths. His hands balled into fists at his sides.
'Someone's taken it. And it would be worse if that someone was Kael.'
His teeth clenched at the thought.
'If that idiot got his hands on it, things were about to get annoying.'
"Max would know."
Ash exhaled, shifting his path toward the lab.
"If anyone had seen it, it would be him."
His mind gnawed at the thought—
There's only one reason for Kael to take his blade, and Ash doesn't want that kind of trouble first thing in the morning.
He reached the lab and knocked once before stepping in. The faint smell of heated metal and circuitry lingered in the air. Max sat hunched over his workstation, tapping away at a glowing console. Blueprints and disassembled parts scattered around him. The glow from the screens lit up his face, but Max didn't look up.
Ash didn't waste time.
"Max. Have you seen my blade?"
Max's fingers paused, a brief moment before the rhythm resumed. This had happened plenty of times before, always ending the same way. But before jumping to conclusions...
"No. Are you sure you didn't leave it back at headquarters?"
"You know I never go anywhere without it. I brought it with me."
Max leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.
"Then where'd you last see it?"
Ash's jaw tightened.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
Max finally looked up, his gaze sharpening.
"Have you seen Kael?"
Ash shook his head.
"No. Haven't run into him yet."
Max sighed, drumming his fingers against the armrest. He already knew what was going on.
If Ash's blade was missing and Kael was nowhere to be found, there weren't many other explanations. This always happened when Kael got bored—or just wanted to annoy Ash.
Still, Max decided to play it cool.
"If your blade isn't here and you didn't leave it behind, you might want to check with Kael. Maybe he's seen it."
Ash's eyes narrowed.
'argh… not this again.'
"Right."
Ash turned to leave, his boots scuffing against the metal floor. Then he paused, fingers curling around the doorframe.
"The canister,"
he said without looking back.
"You finished it?"
A rustling sound came from behind—Max shifting in his seat.
"Yeah. Check the box by your feet. Made a few of them."
A pause.
"Still figuring out what to call it."
Ash glanced down. A small metal crate sat beside his boot, its lid half-off. Inside, dull black metal canisters gleamed under the dim light. He grabbed one, rolling it between his fingers before shoving it into his coat.
"Thanks."
He turned sharply, his pace quickening as he made his way to find Kael.
Ash's mind raced, his grip tightening at his sides.
'If Kael hasn't been seen moving around the base... there's one place he's sure to be.'
A brief pause.
'The training room.'
His footsteps echoed against the metal floor, each step swallowed by the empty halls. Overhead, automated lights flickered to life, casting long shadows that stretched with his movement. The hum of machinery trailed behind him, steady but distant—too distant.
No murmured conversations. No rustling of movement. Just silence, thick and oppressive.
The door slid open with a sharp hiss. Heat rushed out, wrapping around him like a tight embrace.
The training room was a battlefield of past struggles. Charred walls bore jagged scars, the edges dark and cracked from endless battles. Glowing targets flickered weakly, some dimmed entirely, their surfaces warped from previous flames.
Shattered fragments of dummies lay scattered across the scorched floor, brittle and blackened. The air smelled of burnt metal and something acrid—something alive.
And in the center of it all stood Kael.
His back was to Ash, shoulders squared, head slightly tilted as if listening. Heat shimmered around him, warping the air, blurring his form.
Tiny flames curled at his fingertips, flickering and restless. The ground beneath him cracked, thin trails of ember running through the floor like veins.
Ash's gaze dropped. A glint of metal caught the dim light.
His blade.