The ride back to the safe zone was quiet. Too quiet. Ning Que’s mind raced as he replayed every single thing that happened in the last hour.
The aircraft hovered low over the dying forest, its engines slicing through the silence like blades. Inside, the atmosphere was ice-cold. Viera knelt beside Denz, her hands pressed against his chest, channeling mana through the threads of corruption embedded in his veins. His skin was pale, jaw slack, breath shallow. His veins were visible, and black.
"He’s not dying," she murmured. "But he’s not here, either." It was a strange sensation.
"What does that mean?" Aeris asked, the clip in her voice impossible to ignore.
"The beast’s shadow didn’t infect his body. It infected his mind." Viera said softly, afraid of her own words.
Ning Que sat in the farthest seat, arms folded, no cuffs this time. But no one would’ve blamed them if there were. The others kept their distance from him. Linx hadn’t spoken a word since they left the site. His knuckles were white on the straps. He might have been the bubbly one, but he retreated into his shell now.
Aeris stared at Ning across the hold. "You’re lucky I didn’t put a blade through your heart." Resentment, anger, frustration, it all filled her.
"I don’t care if that thing bowed to you or called you king of the stars. You do anything I don’t like, and I’ll end it. Reclaimer or not." She spat.
Still, Ning remained silent. He was trying not to scream. Not because of her words, but because of the system that wouldn’t shut up.
{Sovereign Protocol initializing...}
{System Error: Identity conflicted. Reclaimer instincts suppressed. Authority: Awaiting consent.}
{Would you like to accept your title as Reclaimer?}
He clenched his fists in his lap, eyes closed.
"Not yet," he muttered under his breath. This was one of the things he wanted to fully understand before accepting. He was tired of all this mystery.
By the time they landed at the Guild’s nearest outer base, the sun was long gone. Storms brewed overhead. The trees surrounding the base groaned like they were alive. And they might’ve been.
Inside, Ning Que was offered a room — not a cell — but the door locked from the outside.
As soon as he sat on the edge of the cot, the system returned.
{Command registered. Sovereign Protocol delayed. Activating subroutine: Dream Gate Memory Sync.}
{Warning: Memory fragments may cause physiological stress. Proceed?}
"...Do it," Ning whispered. Maybe it’ll give him some answers.
The light above flickered. His body collapsed backward. The system’s hum could be heard faintly, but Ning Que’s subconscious had gone blank.
When he opened his eyes again, he was in a battlefield.
The skies above were gold. Endless. Shimmering with ancient light. The ground beneath his feet was cracked and burned. All around him stood thousands — no, tens of thousands — of creatures. Some beastlike, some humanoid. All kneeling.
He looked down. Black and crimson armor.
A blade rested at his hip. The Katana of Light — but it looked older.
Not because of joy, because of defiance.
"You’ve gone too far!"
The woman in flames, cloaked in white fire, eyes burning gold. Her face twisted with pain.
"You’ve unsealed what should’ve stayed forgotten," she said.
He stepped forward. "The Guild knew. They lied to us all."
"Even so, they are human. You are not."
He raised the katana. "I made my choice."
Her eyes welled with tears.
She raised her sword.
The world split in half—
Ning Que woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat. His heart burned, and his muscles felt sore.
His room light flickered. The walls felt too small.
{Dream Gate Sync complete. Memory fragment stored. Fragment integrity: 16%}
He sat up slowly, holding his head. "Sixteen percent? Really?"
{Would you like to continue synchronization?}
Elsewhere, inside Guild HQ, Elder Tao slammed his hand on the desk.
"He cut through reality, Li. That’s not a skill. That’s a god-tier weapon born of ancient Rift magic. And you want to let him walk around free?"
Grandmaster Li stood at the edge of the room, staring at an old scroll.
"It wasn’t a skill," he said calmly. "It was instinct. Which means we’re past the point of systems and hunter ranks. He’s not one of us."
"So we kill him now. Before he remembers more."
The masked man stepped from the shadows.
"If you try, the Rift will open. Fully. Not partially. Not localized. You’ll doom us all."
Tao turned. "And you know this how?"
"I was there," the masked man said softly. "During the Rift War."
Li’s eyes widened. "You’re not old enough—"
"I’m not. But my father was. He survived. And left warnings in code, buried in the system’s foundation."
He tapped a sigil on his palm.
The screen behind him lit up with files—classified Reclaimer reports. Deleted logs. Sealed documents.
Li leaned in. "What is this?"
"A prison," the masked man replied. "The system wasn’t built to help hunters. It was designed to trap Reclaimers. Every reincarnation. Every trial. Every scan."
"And now it’s failing," Li whispered.
"No," the masked man said. "Now it’s waking up."
Back at the outer base, Aeris stood outside the comm room, a line of rain dripping down her cheek. Her comm buzzed.
She opened the encrypted message.
> From: [REDACTED] OBSERVE ONLY. Do not engage. If he awakens, report.
> If seal breaks, eliminate.
She looked up, through the glass, where Ning Que sat alone in his room.
The rain intensified. Her hand closed around her sword.
In the fortress above the clouds, the woman in shadows walked slowly across a hall of statues — each one of a Reclaimer lost to time.
She stopped at a sealed chamber. Placed a single palm to the surface.
The seal glowed. Cracked.
From within, a presence stirred.
Another Reclaimer — not reborn, not sealed — waiting.
"He still doesn’t remember what he did," the woman said, voice like silk.
A low rumble echoed behind the door.
"But when he does..."
"He’ll beg us to kill him."