Intense pain.
It was not physical pain, but a deeper, soul-shredding agony that jolted Kai Shen awake from a state of chaos.
Once again, he found himself standing before the cold control console.
The thick, reinforced observation window loomed before him, slicing through the horizon like a sharp blade. Outside the window, the last vestige of overly saturated sunset light burned eerily. He later learned from the records that it was the afterglow of an era long gone, known as the "Golden Age."
The terminal on his wrist buzzed and displayed entertainment news that he couldn't comprehend. The air circulation system hummed monotonously, mingling with the scent of metal and ozone.
He could feel numbness and inertia, enveloped by the high-tech machinery permeating this outpost atop the endless ice fields.
Then, the world "collapsed."
Without warning.
The sky was suddenly splashed with indescribable colors.
They weren't colors of light, but rather some kind of strange fluid seeping down from a higher dimension—
nauseating purple and ashen gray accompanied by countless unknown hues that challenged the limits of his vision, instantly filling his entire field of view.
The ground beneath his feet shook violently, as if it were liquid, and emitted a low, teeth-grinding groan. This was not an earthquake; the very laws of physics were trembling and wailing!
"Ugh—"
Intense dizziness and nausea surged from the depths of his soul. He vomited uncontrollably, but nothing came out.
Outside the window, a snowmobile defied gravity, twisting and floating upward. Suddenly, it was crushed into a heap of scrap metal by an invisible force.
The snowmobile disintegrated and melted away in a silent halo of "color." The flying metal fragments quickly lost their original silver-gray hue and were stained purple and gray before vanishing into nothingness.
A brief, piercing scream that did not sound human came from the adjacent room, followed by the slimy, viscous sound of something writhing. Fear gripped his heart like a cold, venomous snake.
Just as his consciousness was about to be completely consumed by the crazy "color," an incomprehensible "void" appeared at the edge of his vision.
It wasn't a color; rather, it was like a tear in the fabric of the universe, revealing the heart-stopping, absolute nothingness beyond.
Not even the rampaging "colors" could touch it. Light, matter, and distorted reality were all "reset" by an incomprehensible force upon touching the edge of the "void," vanishing without a trace.
Pure "nothingness."
On the brink of collapse, the consciousness flashes with one final thought: This is the projection of a "concept"—the projection of the "ultimate concept that negates the existence of all things."
Immediately afterward, a barrier composed of pure nothingness rapidly expanded in all directions from the void, forcibly blocking and containing the rampant "color" flood.
The instant the barrier closed, a cold, pure, colorless wave—one that defied all known physical laws—pierced all dimensions and reality like a sigh, crossing endless spacetime and silently touching him.
"Damn it, this dream again!"
Cold sweat soaked Shen Kai's forehead as he suddenly sat up from the rough, hard bed in the orphanage.
His heart still raced from the aftermath of the nightmare. His temples throbbed faintly from the last remnants of that grayish "color" seeping into his bones.
He gasped for breath, trying to pull his consciousness back to reality from the icy plain filled with despairing hues and endless collapse.
Outside the window, the Federation's 17th Orphanage's eternal gray sky cast an oppressive shadow like a prison.
The cool air mingled with the characteristic smells of the "Contact Zone"—rust, humus, and disinfectant—and silently seeped into the extremely simple single dormitory.
It was that dream again.
Since he could remember, it had followed him like a shadow. The Federation's psychologists said it was a stress response caused by childhood trauma, but he knew it was far more complex than that.
This was especially true after the incident where he had panicked and crawled into a bottomless rock crevice to escape the alien beasts, only to be "rescued" by a figure clad in heavy standard armor at the brink of death.
From that moment on, he had become "different."
His emotions grew thin and dull, and he began to see different "colors" on others' bodies. He often heard meaningless whispers in his ears. This dream about "nothingness" and "color" had become increasingly clear and painful.
At that moment, the monotonous morning bugle call from the orphanage sounded, interrupting his thoughts.
Kai no longer hesitated. He quickly got out of bed and started packing his few belongings. He packed a backpack, a few changes of clothes, and a data tablet that he had polished to a shine.
The tablet contained all the publicly available recruitment information for the "Ring Abyss Federation Deep Intervention Team."
He was heading to Rock City.
He was going to become a "Synchronizer."
He was heading to the "Foreign Depths" that had devoured his parents and altered his fate.
He wanted to uncover the truth behind his "differences," trace the origins of his recurring dreams, and seek any clues his parents might have left behind.
This was the only path he could choose. The dream about "nothingness," like a profound omen, weighed heavily on his heart and guided him forward.
"Knock, knock—"
The door was knocked. It was the dean, an elderly woman with a kind face and eyes filled with compassion and concern.
"Kai, are you leaving today?"
Shen Kai zipped up his backpack, turned around, and bowed deeply to the dean.
"Yes."