Location: WGA High-Command – "The Tuning Fork" Orbital Station.
In the sterile, pressurized silence of the World Government Agency's orbital hub, a red light began to pulse. It wasn't a frantic alarm, but a steady, heavy throb—the kind that signaled a Tier-0 Violation.
Commander Vane Sterling, a man whose very presence felt like a pressurized room, stood before the holographic "Pulse Map" of Earth.
"Report," Sterling commanded. His own Core, [ CODE: ATMOSPHERIC PRESSURE ], made the air around him feel thick as water.
"Sir, we just picked up a spike in New Kyoto, Sector 9," a technician stammered, his fingers flying across a glass console. "It wasn't a standard Sub-Type flare. The signature was... flat."
"Flat?" Sterling narrowed his eyes.
"Yes, sir. It didn't output energy. It erased it. A 10-meter radius of total harmonic silence followed by a molecular collapse. The sensors registered it as a Class-S Resonance Event."
Sterling went stiff. The last time the Resonance signature had appeared on that map, it had preceded the sinking of the Mediterranean floor.
"The Vessel of Resonance," Sterling whispered, his voice cold. "I thought that bloodline was extinct. Send a Seeker team. And tell them if the target resists... they are authorized to initiate a Synapse Blackout."
Location: Sector 9 – The Rust Belt
Kaelen Thorne walked through the rain, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by a bone-deep ache.
Using the Origin Code at even 5% was like trying to channel a river through a straw. His nerves felt like they were coated in acid, and his vision was swimming with static.
Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.
The "Hunger" was starting. His Core wasn't just a power source; it was a vacuum. It wanted to consume. It wanted to find a frequency to mimic because his own was too powerful for his human shell to contain.
"You should have kept your head down, kid."
Kaelen stopped. The rain around him suddenly stopped falling. Not because it had ceased raining, but because the droplets were being suspended in mid-air, vibrating violently.
Standing at the end of the alley was a woman in a sleek, white WGA tactical suit. She held a long, slender rapier that hummed with a high-pitched, electric blue light.
[ SEEKER ID: MAYA VOSS ]
[ CODE: IONIC FRICTION ]
[ SYNAPSE LEVEL: 35% ]
"Maya Voss, WGA Seeker Corps," she said, her voice amplified by the static in the air. "Kaelen Thorne, you are under arrest for the possession of an Unregistered Origin Code. Put your hands behind your head, or I'll be forced to heat the air in your lungs to three hundred degrees."
Kaelen looked at her. He could hear it—the frantic, buzzing frequency of her Ionic Code. It was like the sound of a thousand angry hornets.
"You're vibrating too high, Maya," Kaelen said, his voice sounding hollow, as if he were speaking from the bottom of a well. "If you step any closer, the friction between your molecules and mine... it's going to ignite."
"Is that a threat, Null?" Maya sneered. She lunged.
She was fast—a blur of blue sparks and ionized air. But to Kaelen, she was a song out of tune.
[ SYNAPSE OVERCLOCK: 12% ]
Kaelen didn't draw a weapon. He simply stomped his foot onto the wet pavement.
A ripple moved through the ground—not a shockwave of force, but a wave of Harmonic Interference. When the ripple hit Maya, her Ionic aura didn't explode. It canceled out.
The blue sparks vanished. Her rapier went dull. The friction that powered her speed was suddenly "muted."
Maya stumbled, her momentum carrying her forward into a wall. She looked at her hands, terrified. "What... what did you do to my Code? I can't feel the Ionization!"
"I didn't take it," Kaelen said, walking past her, his eyes glowing a fierce, unstable amber. "I just played the 'Quiet' version of it."
But as he walked away, a new sound hit his ears. A heavy, rhythmic thudding from the rooftops. Not one Seeker. A dozen.
And behind them, something much, much bigger.
[ WARNING: PRIMAL-CLASS SIGNATURE APPROACHING ]
[ CODE: GRAVITY WELL ]
The ground beneath Kaelen's feet suddenly increased in weight by a factor of ten. He crashed to his knees, the asphalt cracking under the sudden pressure.
"The WGA doesn't like it when their toys don't play along," a deep, booming voice echoed from above.
Kaelen looked up through the crushing force. Standing on the ledge of a skyscraper was a man draped in a heavy, black cloak, his eyes glowing with the purple light of a dying star.
The hunt for the Vessel had truly begun.