Four Months After Construction Began
Kelam screamed—not with sound, but with a spiritual wave that made every cultivator within a hundred meters clutch their heads.
The prototype vessel—a human-sized network of crystals arranged in complex geometry—shook violently. Light inside the crystal nodes flickered irregularly, like an arrhythmic heart. Kelam, who had transferred part of his consciousness into the construct as the first test, was trapped between two states—not fully in the new vessel, not fully free.
"Stabilize formation nodes seven and twelve!" Yan shouted, his hands moving quickly to activate emergency formations. Sweat soaked his temples—a rare emotion for the usually perfectly controlled scientist.
I—all five of us—reacted instantly. Feng analyzed the failure pattern in a fraction of a second, finding a frequency mismatch between the primordial consciousness and the crystal resonance. Hong projected protective energy to prevent the vessel from exploding. Mei Ling sent calming waves to the panicked Kelam. Jiao opened a direct communication channel to the trapped consciousness.
And I—I did the only thing I could. I extended the primordial connection, letting The Buried One speak directly to his trapped fragment.
"CHILD, LISTEN TO ME. DON'T RESIST. LET IT FLOW. AS I TAUGHT YOU."
The Buried One's voice—which had evolved from a roaring void to something almost gentle—carried an authority Kelam couldn't ignore. Slowly, very slowly, the resistance stopped. Kelam's consciousness stopped trying to "escape" and began... adjusting.
The light in the crystals stabilized. The vibrations subsided. And for the first time, Kelam spoke not from a floating spiritual projection, but from the crystal vessel itself—his voice echoing through the communication nodes.
"This is... strange," he said, his voice having a resonant quality it didn't have before. "I don't feel a body, but I feel... structure. Boundaries. But not a prison. Like... a house with glass walls."
Yan nearly collapsed into a chair, breathing heavily from the tension. "You did it. You're actually inside the vessel."
"For how long?" asked one of the artisans skeptically. "Is it stable long-term?"
Kelam paused—we could feel him exploring the new parameters of his existence. "I think... yes. It's not perfect. There's... pressure. Like wearing shoes that are slightly too small. But not painful. Just needs adjustment."
"Come back out," Yan ordered. "Before we study the long-term effects. That's enough for today."
Kelam didn't need to be told twice. With the help of the extraction formation we had prepared, his consciousness was pulled out of the vessel, returning to the familiar spiritual projection form.
"That was terrifying," he admitted, his form trembling. "But also... fascinating. Like exploring a new dimension."
Yan was already taking furious notes. "We need to modify node seven—its frequency isn't suitable for primordial consciousness. And add buffers at energy junctions to prevent overload..."
Elder Qiu put a hand on Yan's shoulder. "Enough for today, Overseer. You've been working thirty hours without rest."
Yan opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. For the first time, he looked... old. Tired. Human.
"Two hours," he finally compromised. "I need two hours of rest, then we continue with modifications."
---
Private Room—Midnight
I couldn't sleep. Not because my body wasn't tired—it was exhausted—but because my mind wouldn't stop spinning. Today's test proved the vessel concept could work. But it also showed how fragile the process was.
"You're worried about The Buried One," Mei Ling's voice came softly—she wasn't sleeping either, though her physical body was lying in another room.
"Of course," I answered. "Kelam is only a small fragment. The Buried One is... something far greater. More complex. If something goes wrong—"
"Then we'll handle it," Hong cut in. "Together. As always."
"But what if we can't?" The worry I had been suppressing finally leaked out. "What if to move The Buried One safely, we need... a greater sacrifice?"
Silence in the collective connection. They all knew what I meant.
"You think your original body needs to be the final bridge," Feng voiced the thought I didn't dare speak. "That to ensure perfect transfer, Wa Lang's original consciousness—the one most connected to The Buried One—needs to be... sacrificed as the pathway."
"It's just a theory," I answered weakly. "Yan hasn't discussed it—"
"Because Yan knows you would immediately agree," Jiao interrupted, his loud voice covering emotion. "And he doesn't want to lose you if there's another way."
"Is there another way?" I asked honestly.
No one answered. Because we all—with access to collective knowledge and Feng's analysis—already knew the answer. Theoretically, there were other ways. Practically, with our limited time and resources, sacrificing the core coordinator—Wa Lang's original body—was the safest option to ensure The Buried One transferred without losing consciousness or returning to his primordial hungry state.
"I won't allow this," Mei Ling said firmly. "We'll find another way. We have time—"
"We don't have time," I interrupted gently. "The latest diagnostics show my soul erosion has slowed, but not stopped. Even with the distributed burden, this original body wasn't designed to hold primordial energy forever. I only have six months. Maybe a year if lucky."
"Then we accelerate vessel construction," Hong insisted. "We recruit more artisans, work around the clock—"
"And risk making mistakes due to rushing?" Feng argued with painful cold logic. "Mistakes that could kill The Buried One or release him in an unstable state? That's irresponsible."
"So we just accept that Wa Lang has to die?" Jiao almost shouted through the connection. "After everything we've been through? After we built a new system that was supposed to be better than meaningless sacrifice?"
"This isn't a meaningless sacrifice," I answered with a calm I didn't feel. "This is a choice. A choice to ensure The Buried One—a being who has changed from a cosmic parasite to something capable of reconciliation—gets a chance to live free from the hunger that defined him for eons."
"But at the cost of your life," Mei Ling whispered, her voice broken.
"At the cost of one body," I corrected. "My consciousness—my perspective, my memories, the essence of what makes me 'me'—will continue to live in you four. You all already carry parts of me. This would just be... more permanent."
"It's not the same," Jiao insisted.
"No," I agreed. "But it's enough."
A long silence. I felt the four other consciousnesses grappling with the reality we all knew was inevitable.
Finally, The Buried One himself spoke—his voice so soft, almost ashamed.
"I... am not worthy of this sacrifice. I'm just a monster who learned to be less hungry. I don't—"
"You are proof that change is possible," I interrupted gently. "You are the reason we believe systems can evolve. And you deserve to live without the hunger defining you. If I can give that—give true freedom—then that is the best use of the time I have left."
"But I will miss you," The Buried One whispered with profound sadness. "The first voice that didn't scream in fear at me. The first hand extended not to hurt but to understand."
"And I will miss you too," I answered honestly. "But you all—all five of you—will have each other. And that is more precious than me being alone."
Morning would come with decisions that needed to be announced. With plans that needed to be finalized. With goodbyes that needed to begin.
But for tonight, the five of us—plus one god learning to love—sat in shared silence, feeling the warmth of a connection that would never truly be broken.
Because even in death, the traces left behind continue to shape those who walk after.
And that, I thought with surprising peace, is enough.