—You are not merely a survivor, but a conduit
The instant the metal hatch opened, the air seemed to freeze.
Chairman Da's silhouette emerged from the light and shadow beyond the door—steady as a mountain. He stepped into the chamber slowly, his face—both dignified and hauntingly familiar—sent a ripple of conflicting emotions through Shawn.
"Welcome back, Shawn." The Chairman's voice remained deep and authoritative, impossible to ignore. "We meet again—at last."
Shawn rose to his feet. Though his body hadn't fully recovered, his mind was sharp and alert.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and suspicion.
Chairman Da didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked up to Shawn and locked eyes with him. "You've seen Donghu City in ruins—and the traces left behind by our real enemy, haven't you?"
Shawn nodded, his eyes taking in the crumbling ruins of the city—once a hub of prosperity, now a hollow shell. Only the wind whispered through the wreckage, like a silent warning that needed no words.
"This war is no longer just between the O.S.S. and us," Da said slowly. "It's a reconstruction of consciousness, Soulenergy, and existence itself. And the core inside you is the key to this entire consciousness war."
Gary stepped forward and added, "The Chairman had already begun planning before your 'disappearance.' You think falling through the Rift was an accident? No—it was a trial. A necessary step toward awakening your true role."
Shawn frowned. "So… you knew about the secret inside me all along?"
Da didn't answer directly. Instead, he tossed a small holographic device into the air. A projection flickered to life—an ancient prophecy inscribed in proto-conscious script. Translated, the words struck like thunder:
"When the fragments converge and the Elemental Core Nexus awakens, the sleeping consciousness shall stir. Long-buried conflict shall rise anew. And the one who guides the return must come through the Rift of dreams."
"We didn't know who the 'Returner' in the prophecy was—until you crossed the Rift," Da said, his eyes locked on Shawn's. "Every surge of consciousness in you, every Thunder Core resonance, every Core Nexus loop... they all point to one thing: you're not just a survivor of an experiment. You're a conduit."
Shawn's heartbeat quickened. He didn't want to believe it—but he couldn't deny the strange changes he'd been experiencing.
"Then this... 'Consciousness Legion'—what is it fighting against?" he asked in a low voice.
Gary replied, his eyes sharp. "The real enemy—Darkwave."
Shawn blinked. "What is that?"
"A parasitic consciousness protocol born in the early 20th century," Gary said, his voice low. "It's not just a frequency—it's a self-evolving system. Once it connects to any conscious network, it rewrites the host's thinking, silently eroding perception, memory, even emotion. Like a neurological virus that rewrites who you are from within."
"It starts subtly," he continued. "Short-term memory loss. Emotional numbness. Slowed logical processing. But as deep synchronization progresses, the self begins to dissolve."
"O.S.S. is merely its executor," Da added coldly. "The true Darkwave is transforming the entire multifrequency world into a silent prison."
Shawn frowned. "But wasn't it destroyed in the '90s?"
Da's eyes darkened. "We thought we destroyed the source. But that was just the shell it discarded."
Gary waved his hand, revealing a hidden spectrogram wall. Data flared across the virtual interface—distorted energy echoes, faint but persistent, like shallow breaths.
"Beneath the ruins of Donghu, we detected residual Darkwave signals," he said. "It didn't die—it's rebuilding. Now freed from hardware and physical space, it inhabits multifrequency layers, controlling, infecting, absorbing other consciousness forms."
He paused, his voice grave. "Twenty years ago, Operation Zero Band assembled the strongest frequency-control team to seal its core—none returned."
Shawn was stunned, throat tightening.
Da continued, "The Core Nexus within you is the only known structure stable enough to resonate with and resist Darkwave infiltration."
Shawn finally realized this wasn't just a mission. It was a war—far deeper, darker, and more dangerous than anything he had imagined.
"You must face the Legion's trial," Da said, turning sharply. His gaze was blade-like. "Only through it can your true strength awaken—and only then can you become one with the Legion."
Shawn's head snapped up.
Gary's smile split his face like a fault line."Welcome to the Tower of Conscious Descent."
Hours later, Shawn stood before a towering structure made of translucent, consciousness-synthesized material. It floated between reality and dream, glowing with shifting frequencies. Each level held echoes of mental projections, traps of virtual distortion, and fields of deep psychological interference.
"This is a journey you must face alone," Da said from a distance. "Each level contains fragmented memories you've yet to integrate. Only by passing through them can the Thunder Core fully reconstruct."
Shawn took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Level One: Darkness.
He saw his childhood self, curled up on a hospital bench, clutching a wrinkled photo. The night his mother disappeared. The empty corridor. The muffled crying. The cold, indifferent doctors. The hollow feeling that never left.
"You're worthless." His father's icy voice echoed in the vision.
Teeth clenched, the Thunder Core within him gave a subtle hum. "No. I'm not."
A bolt of lightning split the blackness. The illusion shattered.
Level Two: The Valley of Echoes.
An endless, echoing wasteland. His past mistakes reverberated in the air—his avoidance, his hesitation, the lies he once told—looping relentlessly around him.
"You gave up."
"You let them down."
"You don't deserve to go on."
The voices overwhelmed him. He nearly fell—until a familiar face emerged—Ranzi. His fallen comrade. She smiled—not with blame, but encouragement.
Shawn clenched his fists and called her name. His voice shattered the weight. Ranzi's projection dissolved into a golden feather of fire and merged with his Thunder Core. The temperature surged. Core readings spiked.
Level Three: Mirrors.
Dozens of versions of himself circled—cold, weak, manic, numb. Personality shards from misaligned frequencies, dragging him toward collapse.
Shawn closed his eyes, remembering each time he had fallen—but stood back up.
"No matter which version I am—I choose to move forward."
The mirrors cracked. The core's stability broke past all thresholds. Silence fell across the tower.
Days later, Shawn emerged slowly from the Tower of Conscious Descent. The room fell silent.
Gary let out a whistle. "No doubt—you're the one."
Da nodded. "Your Thunder Core has completed its first reconstruction. Now, it's time to initiate the Elemental Core Resonance Protocol."
"Protocol?" Shawn frowned.
Da said, "We've detected Darkwave residuals converging on the Main Frequency Rift. Within 72 hours, the Rift will rupture. Before that, we must gather the Fragmented Alliance, awaken the other Core bearers, and construct the Rift Bridge."
Shawn felt a new, unfamiliar sense of clarity rise from within. He was no longer just a young man searching for truth. He was a crucial link in this consciousness war.
Then, In the distance, a low-frequency vibration pulsed through the ruins, as if the earth itself were groaning. Then came a familiar growl:
"They're rewriting you…"