Chapter 1: Burned Scrolls
They called it The Drop—a rotted sector of Neo-Ilium where even the city's auto-police didn't patrol. Old buildings sagged under the weight of failed redevelopment, wires dangled like vines, and every corner flickered with broken holo-ads screaming "Awaken Your Inner Power™" through static.
Jian Lin didn't look like much—scrawny, scar on his lip, a street kid in secondhand synth-fiber armor. But underneath his skin was something new. Something illegal.
He stepped off the back of a delivery truck, hoodie pulled low. The subdermal implant at the base of his skull itched with pressure as it synced with the city grid.
[BOOTING INTERFACE...]
[WELCOME, USER: UNREGISTERED]
[CHI CORE: LEVEL 0 | STATUS: STABLE]
[NO AFFILIATED SECT DETECTED]
"Perfect," he muttered.
No Sect meant no safety.
But also, no rules.
---
Three days earlier, Jian had stood in the ring—blinding lights overhead, thousands of faces shouting his name in the virtual coliseum of the Olympus Trial League. At seventeen, he was the youngest candidate to ever reach the finals of an open-tier tournament. His Sect, House Yulan, had sponsored him since he was twelve, grafting chi-channeling implants into his nervous system before his voice had cracked.
Then came the crash.
Mid-match, his HUD had gone red.
[SYSTEM VIOLATION DETECTED – ILLEGAL MODS FOUND]
[YOU HAVE BEEN DISQUALIFIED]
[ALL YULAN PRIVILEGES REVOKED]
[CONTRACT TERMINATED – YOUR DISCIPLE STATUS IS REVOKED]
In a single breath, he went from prodigy to pariah. Framed. Cut off. Kicked to the streets with no skill access, no internal power, no memory of how the virus had been installed.
But Jian wasn't going to die a disgraced disciple.
He was going to rebuild everything they'd taken.
---
The Drop was where exiles went to disappear—or rearm. And Jian had an appointment.
He ducked through a shattered noodle shop and into the back alley, where AR graffiti flickered on the walls like living tattoos. A snarling wolf. A thousand-eyed monk. A lotus burning in real-time flame. All calling cards of underground MicroSects—gangs and rogue clans who'd reverse-engineered corporate techniques into raw street chi.
He reached the door. No lock, no handle. Just a retinal scanner scratched with old blood.
He leaned in.
The door hissed.
---
The interior was dark, lit by pulsing code-lines in the floor. A woman sat cross-legged on a glowing table, eyes sealed by skin grafts, her arms covered in plug ports.
"You're late," she said.
"You're blind."
"I'm wired."
She sniffed the air like a predator. "You're Yulan-born. That stink doesn't wash off easy."
"Not anymore."
The woman dropped off the table and flicked her wrist. A glowing interface hovered above her palm. "Name?"
"Jian Lin."
"Alias?"
He paused. The name hadn't meant anything before, but now it clung to him like ash from the fire.
"...Stray."
She smirked. "Fitting."
A sharp hiss. She drew a canister from the wall—cold, neon blue inside—and jabbed it into his neck.
He convulsed.
[WARNING: UNLICENSED INJECTION DETECTED]
[INITIALIZING NEW NODE: WHITE NEEDLE FORM v1.0]
[STATUS: DIRTY CODE – MINIMAL COMPATIBILITY]
[CHI CORE RESTARTING...]
Then silence.
Then burning.
The woman held him down as his back arched and screamed through clenched teeth.
---
When it was over, Jian gasped against the floor, sweat pooling beneath his cheek.
"What… was that?"
"A foundation," she said. "Street code. Not pure, not stable. But it'll get you moving."
He rolled over, chest heaving. "What's the price?"
"Everyone pays. In blood, or in breath. You'll figure out which soon enough."
Jian sat up.
The world looked… different. Brighter. Slower. His fingers tingled with power.
His implant buzzed.
[NEW QUEST: RECLAIM YOUR NAME]
[Objective: Find the coder who framed you]
[Reward: Identity Restoration | Sect Clearance | Chi Core Stabilization]
He smiled.
Then he walked back out into the streets of Neo-Ilium, carrying nothing but a stolen style and a vengeance that burned hotter than his veins.
---