The flight from the geo-dome was a blur of adrenaline and paranoia. Rhys pushed himself harder than ever before, his newly tempered body responding with tireless efficiency. He led Boulder through a tangled nightmare of collapsing structures and treacherous, spore-choked tunnels, constantly changing direction, doubling back, using every Weaving trick he knew to obscure their path. Air currents were warped to carry their scent in misleading directions; dust clouds were kicked up to cover tracks; faint water slicks were left on seemingly solid ground far from their actual route. He kept his Echo Sense stretched thin, constantly scanning behind them, searching for any sign of pursuit from Lyra's vengeful group or, more chillingly, any hint of the Watchers' cold, analytical presence.
Boulder kept pace effortlessly, his massive frame moving with surprising agility through the ruins, his presence a silent reassurance amidst Rhys's growing unease. They didn't speak, conserving breath and energy, communicating only through brief hand signals and shared instinct honed by years of survival together.
They ran until exhaustion began to fray even Rhys's enhanced endurance, finally finding refuge kilometers away from the Greenhouse Belt, deep within a different, older sector of Meridian's ruins – the 'Transit Corridor'. Here, vast, collapsed subway tunnels plunged into the depths, offering a labyrinth of potential hiding places. Rhys located a section that felt promising: a deep, dry maintenance tunnel branching off the main line, accessible only via a narrow, vertical service shaft clogged with debris. Its restricted access and depth offered good defensibility.
After Boulder secured the access shaft, blocking it partially with heavy debris, they finally allowed themselves to rest in the echoing darkness of the abandoned subway tunnel. The adrenaline faded, leaving behind bone-deep weariness and the chilling residue of the Watcher intervention.
Rhys slumped against the cold, tiled wall, replaying the events at the dome. The targeted pulse, the disruption of Qi and tech, the psionic probe, the way his escape was effectively engineered. It wasn't just observation anymore. It was active manipulation.
Why help him secure the Dew? The answer forming in his mind was deeply disturbing. They weren't interested in him as a person, or even as a potential ally or enemy in the conventional sense. They saw him as a unique phenomenon. A rare example of an alternative, perhaps pre-Sundering or 'deviant', cultivation path spontaneously emerging. They wanted to study him, analyze his Aetherium Weaving, understand its principles, its potential, its dangers (like Echo Sickness). Securing the Moonpetal Dew, the final catalyst for his foundation, would accelerate his development, providing them with more data, faster. He was, quite literally, their lab rat.
The capabilities implied were staggering. Technology or techniques capable of selectively disrupting internal Qi circulation without significantly affecting his external Aether manipulation. Advanced multi-spectrum sensors. Stealth technology bordering on invisibility. And direct psionic interface. These weren't abilities possessed by the Crimson Hand, struggling family sects like Lyra's, or even the dominant city-state Purifiers based on the rumors. This was something else entirely, something potentially far older or more advanced.
The threat level recalibrated instantly in his mind. The Watchers weren't just a faction to be avoided; they were an existential puzzle to be solved, an entity whose motives and origins were now inextricably linked to his own survival and the nature of his path. Direct confrontation was unthinkable. Evasion was necessary but perhaps insufficient if they could probe his thoughts. Understanding them became paramount.
Driven by this urgency, Rhys retrieved the second data shard, the one recovered from near the Veridian Guardian's corpse. It was cracked, like the first fragment he'd found, its surface marred by time and violence. Sitting cross-legged on the grimy tunnel floor, he placed the shard carefully on his palm. He channeled a fine, controlled thread of Aether into it, simultaneously using his Echo Sense to delicately probe its internal structure, feeling for the faint resonance of stored information, trying to coax it out without shattering the fragile artifact.
Corrupted data flickered through his consciousness – fragmented logs, error messages, schematic snippets. But patterns emerged, keywords repeating amidst the noise:
LOG: Project Chimera - Phase 7 Trial - Subject Designation: VG-04 (Veridian Guardian)
ERROR: Bio-Aetheric Integration unstable. Cascade failure probability: 67%.
ANALYSIS: Type-G Guardian exhibiting uncontrolled regenerative mutation.
WARNING: Neural Lattice exhibiting signs of resonance decay.
Cross-Reference: Resonance Cascade Sensitivity - See Protocol 7.3b.
OVERSIGHT COORD: Unit 731 - Sub-level Gamma.
The picture forming was horrifyingly clear. "Project Chimera" was a pre-Sundering effort to forcibly integrate Aetheric energy into living organisms, creating bio-engineered weapons like the Veridian Guardian. The logs detailed instability, uncontrollable mutations, and catastrophic failures – often triggered by specific Aetheric resonance frequencies. This explained why Rhys's resonance disruption attack had been so effective; he had inadvertently stumbled upon a built-in vulnerability.
But the most chilling piece was the final keyword: Unit 731. The designation felt cold, sterile, numerical. And sickeningly familiar. He couldn't place why immediately, but it resonated with the cold, analytical nature of the Watchers, their numbered protocols implied by the log entry. Could the Watchers be the direct descendants of this pre-Sundering research unit? An AI network left over from their projects? A secret society that inherited their goals and methods?
He connected this new information to the first clue he'd found near the Moonpetal Bloom – the one mentioning "Resonance Weaving" and warning of "Aetheric Dissonance Cascade" and "Echo Sickness." It all pointed towards a single, reckless source: Unit 731, or whatever faction bore that name, had experimented extensively, dangerously, with the very fabric of Aether, bio-engineering, and cultivation itself. Their work created monsters like the Guardian and likely unleashed or codified dangers like Echo Sickness. And his own Aetherium Weaving, this path he stumbled upon by accident, seemed to operate on similar, perhaps rediscovered or parallel, principles of resonance and environmental interaction.
This made him unique. This made him valuable data. This made him intensely interesting, and intrinsically dangerous, to the inheritors of Unit 731's legacy.
Rhys held the shard, the cold metal pressing against his skin, the fragmented knowledge within painting a picture far darker than simple ruin and decay. The Shattered Continent wasn't just scarred by a past apocalypse; it was haunted by the ghosts of those who may have caused it, entities still operating from the shadows, pursuing dangerous knowledge. He had the Moonpetal Dew, the key to his foundation, but the path ahead was now irrevocably intertwined with the legacy of Unit 731 and the cold, calculating gaze of the Watchers.