The descent was a journey into the belly of the beast. The organic walls pulsed with a slow, rhythmic beat, and a low, sub-audible hum vibrated through my very bones. The air grew so thick with spiritual energy it was difficult to breathe; it was like trying to inhale syrup. The Fragment of Primordial Core in my hidden pouch was now warm, almost hot to the touch, resonating with its source.
The voices within me grew quieter, not out of fear, but out of a focused reverence. They could feel it too—the slumbering titan below. This was no longer just about survival or outsmarting Yan. This was about confronting the root of all the suffering in this mine.
I encountered no more traps, no more rival slaves. It was as if the labyrinth itself recognized what I carried and was granting me passage. The final chamber revealed itself not as a door, but as a vast, cavernous space that opened up abruptly. The sight stole my breath.
This was the Heart of the Parasite.
It was not a heart of flesh or stone, but a nexus of pure, concentrated darkness. A swirling, silent vortex of black energy hung in the center of the cavern, so dense it seemed to swallow the very light from the luminescent fungi on the walls. Tendrils of shadow, like roots or veins, spread out from it, digging into the walls, the ceiling, the floor—connecting it to the entire mine, to every Dark Seed planted in every slave. This was the source. The mother.
And floating in the air around the vortex were five orbs of solid light—the real Seal Fragments. They pulsed with a pure, white energy, forming a fragile containment field around the dark nexus. But the field was weak, flickering. The orbs were drifting slowly, erratically, like dying embers.
Yan hadn't placed them here. They were the remnants of the original, ancient seal, and they were failing.
Standing at the edge of the chamber, looking small and insignificant before the colossal phenomenon, was Pengawas Yan. He had his back to me, his instruments set up on a small, floating platform of energy. He was muttering to himself, taking notes, completely engrossed.
"And so, the most promising subject arrives," he said without turning around. His voice was calm, almost conversational, but it carried an undercurrent of manic excitement. "And ahead of the others. I knew you were special, Wa Lang."
I stepped into the chamber, the energy in the air making my skin prickle. "This is what you want to wake up?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper yet carrying clearly in the strange acoustics of the place.
"Wake up? No," Yan finally turned, and his eyes were blazing with a feverish light. "That is a crude term. I want to commune with it. To understand it. To harness it! This... this is a being of pure spiritual potential! The Clan sees it as a weapon, but they are fools. It is a gateway to knowledge beyond our comprehension!"
He gestured wildly at the vortex. "Look at it! It is the source of the Dark Seeds! By understanding it, we can perfect them! We can create cultivators of unimaginable power, free from the limitations of conventional techniques!"
'He's insane,' Liang Jie stated flatly, and the collective agreed. Yan wasn't just a cruel scientist; he was a fanatic. He saw the apocalypse as a research opportunity.
"And you need me for that," I said, taking another step forward. "Because my Dark Seed has evolved. Because it can communicate. I'm not just the key. I'm the translator."
"Precisely!" Yan beamed, as if I were a prized student who had finally grasped the lesson. "Your Seed has developed a symbiotic relationship with the consciousnesses it has absorbed. It has become a complex neural network, a perfect interface to interact with the Primordial consciousness without being instantly devoured. You will be the bridge, Wa Lang. You will make first contact."
He pointed to a specific point near the vortex, where the energy was slightly calmer. "Stand there. Open yourself to it. Let your Seed connect. I will monitor the process, of course."
Of course. He would watch as I risked my soul, my very existence, for his experiment.
This was the moment of truth. I had the Fragment of Primordial Core. I could try to use it, to dominate the slumbering entity as Shen had suggested. Or I could destroy it, weakening the seal further but potentially buying time.
But as I stood there, feeling the immense, ancient presence of the Parasite, a third option, the one the strategist had whispered, crystallized in my mind. I would play Yan's game. But I would play it my way.
"I will do it," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "But the energy here is unstable. The connection might fail."
"Don't worry about that," Yan said dismissively. "Just begin."
I walked to the spot he indicated. The proximity to the vortex was overwhelming. It was like standing next to a silent, black sun. I could feel its hunger, its age, its profound loneliness. It was a predator, yes, but it was also a prisoner.
I closed my eyes and reached into my pouch, my fingers closing around the warm Fragment. At the same time, I directed my consciousness inward, to the collective.
'This is it,' I broadcast. 'We connect not as a single mind, but as a chorus. We do not seek to dominate or be dominated. We seek to understand. And if we cannot understand... we resist.'
A wave of agreement washed over me—fearful, but resolute. Thousands of wills braced themselves.
I opened my spiritual senses wide and, holding the Fragment in my hand, reached out towards the Primordial Parasite.
The world vanished.
---