After that precise headshot, Korin's mines went off in a flash of ionized gas and EMP bursts. Three soldiers staggered. Mira cut one down with a triple burst to the chest. Kess's drone shot down a projectile mid-air with precision I didn't know it had.
I launched forward, Catalyst surging, limbs moving faster than nerves could explain. My perception broke into segments—I saw each trajectory, each motion, every possible response before they moved.
A soldier tried to phase-step past me.
I caught him mid-jump and drove my fist through his visor.
He screamed—not from pain, but feedback—as the Catalyst injected anti-sync pulses into his neural uplink.
Another lunged from behind.
I twisted, using his own momentum to flip him into a vine-coated wall.
The vines reacted.
Wrapped him.
Dragged him in.
No screams. Just wet.
Korin shouted. "They're regrouping!"
Mira was already there, intercepting. "Kess, give us a pulse!"
Kess launched a micro-burst that lit the area in pale blue light.
The remaining soldiers—four now—backed toward a ridge, forming a wedge formation. They triggered something—a long-range signal. Not for extraction.
For erasure.
A faint hum built in the air.
I recognized the sound.
"Get back!" I shouted. "They're detonating an entropy core!"
Mira cursed. "That'll wipe everything in a fifty-meter radius!"
"Run!" I ordered.
They did.
I didn't.
Instead, I charged.
The core was small—nested in one of their exosuit backs, already active. A pulsing black crystal surrounded by unstable graviton fields.
I didn't think.
I let the Catalyst do it for me.
I reached in.
Grabbed the core.
And absorbed it.
Pain unimaginable tore through my arm, up into my chest. Systems screamed. The core didn't want to be tamed—it wanted to end.
But I was the Catalyst.
And it obeyed.
The pulse died.
The soldier collapsed.
The other three fled.
I stood in the silence, hand still smoldering.
Behind me, the forest pulsed once.
As if in respect.
*****
We regrouped an hour later at the relay site—an overgrown tower buried under centuries of vines, but still intact.
I collapsed near the entrance, body flickering with residual entropy bleed.
Korin stared at me. "You ate a bomb."
"It's not my diet of choice," I rasped.
Kess patched me with a med-spray while Mira interfaced with the relay.
"You were right," she said. "This place has a direct path to the Origin Spire. There's a hidden pulse-line running straight through the mountains."
I stood slowly, systems stabilizing. "Any sign the Prophet's tapped it?"
"Not yet. But he's close. If we hadn't come now..."
"He would've claimed it."
She looked at me. "Why does he want the Spire so badly?"
I looked at the rising sun, still tinted purple by the Ruin.
"Because it's not just a structure. It's a seed. The first one. If he roots himself there, he becomes the Architect's final design. A singularity."
Korin exhaled. "And what does that make you?"
I didn't answer.
Because the truth was heavier than I was ready to admit.
The Catalyst hadn't just chosen me.
It was rebuilding me.
Into what?
I didn't know.
But the path was set.
And it would fracture everything.
*****
The sun's pale light filtered through the tangled canopy as we settled inside the ancient relay tower. The walls hummed softly, alive with dormant Architect tech eager to be awakened. Mira worked feverishly on the console, her fingers dancing across ancient glyphs and data streams, while Korin and Dane kept watch near the entrance.
My arm still throbbed with the residual burn from absorbing the entropy core, but the Catalyst was stabilizing the damage, knitting flesh and circuits seamlessly. I felt the pulse of its power coursing through me, a silent symphony of evolution and destruction fused into one.
Suddenly, the relay flickered, and the room was flooded with cascading holographic data. Maps, schematics, and glowing nodes filled every surface—digital veins running through this forgotten relic.
And then a voice—cold, mechanical, yet unmistakably human—echoed through the chamber.
"Kael Rennar. You bear the mark of Origin. Your presence is expected."
I froze. The voice resonated directly inside my mind, as if the tower itself spoke to me.
Mira's head snapped up. "What was that?"
I swallowed hard. "An Architect Echo. A residual intelligence left behind in the system. It's... watching me."
The voice continued, calm and unwavering:
"You have breached the threshold. The path to Ascendancy lies ahead. But beware—the Prophet's shadow stretches far. The Catalyst within you is both a gift and a curse."
A chill ran down my spine. This was no ordinary warning. It was a premonition.
"Ascendancy," I repeated aloud. "A step beyond evolution... beyond even the Catalyst."
Korin scowled. "Sounds like you're about to become more trouble than you already are."
I ignored him, focusing on the relay's holograms. One node pulsed fiercely—a beacon deep within the Origin Spire. That was where the Prophet was consolidating his power. That was where I had to go.
But first, the Catalyst began to surge violently inside me. Visions exploded behind my eyelids—fractured memories and possible futures collapsing into one chaotic storm. I gasped, clutching the console for support.
Kess rushed to my side. "Kael? What's wrong?"
I struggled to speak, my voice barely a whisper. "The Catalyst... it's... breaking me apart."
Suddenly, the Prophet's voice sliced through the chaos like a razor.
"Kael. You cannot escape me. Your blood and mine are intertwined. Accept your place, or be destroyed."
The air grew heavy with dread.
The voice was inside me, outside me, everywhere.
I fought back, summoning every ounce of willpower.
"No," I growled. "I will not be your pawn."
But the strain was immense.
My vision blurred. My control slipped.
Mira stepped closer, placing a steadying hand on my shoulder.
"You're stronger than this," she said firmly. "We're with you."
The relay room's glow dimmed, and the Echo's voice softened.
"The path will fracture. Choose wisely, Kael Rennar."
And then silence.
I collapsed to my knees, the weight of the future pressing down on me.
*****
Hours later, I awoke to find the camp preparing to move. The risks of staying had grown too high. The Prophet's forces were mobilizing, no doubt drawn by the relay's activation.
As we packed, Mira handed me a small device.
"Emergency comm link. Encrypted. Use it if you get separated."
I nodded, swallowing the knot of uncertainty in my chest.
We stepped outside. The forest around us seemed to watch, waiting.
The path to the Origin Spire was no longer just a mission.
It was a crucible.
And the fracture had already begun.
The dawn broke cold and gray as we moved out of the Verdant Ruin, leaving behind the ancient relay and the echoing warnings that still reverberated in my mind. The path ahead was uncertain, but every step took me closer to the Origin Spire — and deeper into the tangled web of my own fractured existence.
Mira led the way, her plasma rifle never resting. Korin and Dane flanked the rear, their eyes sharp, muscles taut with tension. Kess's drones hovered silently overhead, scanning for threats.
I walked in the center, feeling the Catalyst's hum under my skin — a constant reminder of the power and the peril inside me.
The Prophet's voice lingered in my thoughts, a poisonous whisper promising dominion and destruction. But I refused to yield.
Our mission was clear: reach the Origin Spire, uncover its secrets, and stop the Prophet before he could rewrite the world.
*****
The landscape shifted gradually from dense, mutated forest to craggy foothills where ancient ruins jutted from the earth like broken teeth. The evolution field's grip thinned here, but the atmosphere was no less hostile.
Suddenly, Kess's drone emitted a sharp warning beep.
"Movement ahead," she called, eyes narrowing on the drone's feed. "Multiple hostiles — Prophet's shadow units."
I tensed. Shadow units were elite operatives, enhanced beyond human limits with both technology and twisted biology. They moved silently, striking swiftly, leaving devastation in their wake.
"They must have tracked us from the relay," Mira said grimly. "No chance for an ambush."
I nodded. "Prepare for contact."
*****
The first attack came without warning.
A shadow unit dropped from a cliffside, its limbs elongated and covered in dark armor that seemed to absorb light. It struck like a viper, claws extended and crackling with energy.
I reacted instantly, Catalyst flaring through my veins.
Time slowed.
I dodged the strike and countered with a precise blast of kinetic force that slammed the creature against a rock.
More emerged — a pack of six, moving as one with terrifying synchronization.
I felt the Catalyst pulse, instinctively weaving around them, exploiting every opening, every weakness.
Korin and Mira provided covering fire, while Dane's sniper rounds found critical spots in the enemies' armor.
But the battle was brutal and unrelenting.
One shadow unit sliced through Korin's side with a kinetic blade, and he stumbled.
"Hold!" I commanded, rushing to his aid, channeling the Catalyst to seal the wound.
The pain was sharp, but Korin gritted his teeth and nodded.
We pushed forward, but the enemy was relentless.