Afia and Adoma, their initial shock giving way to a fierce protectiveness, gently helped Adu to his feet. Every step was agony, but his sisters' unwavering support was a balm. They slung his arms over their shoulders, their smaller frames straining under his weight as they began the slow, arduous journey back to Ankaase. The vibrant colors of their kente cloths seemed to hum with their determination, a stark contrast to Adu's bloodied, torn tunic.
"Adu, what happened?" Adoma pressed, her voice trembling. "We found you at the edge of the valley, covered in blood. It looked like... like a beast had torn at you."
Afia nodded, her eyes wide with fear. "We thought you were dead! We've been looking for you since yesterday when you didn't come home from the market."
Adu forced a weak, reassuring smile, a practiced mask falling into place. He knew he couldn't tell them the truth, not yet. The weight of the Ashkar Dominion, the alien inheritance, and the cosmic forces arrayed against him was too much for them to bear. Their world was small, safe, and he intended to keep it that way.
"It was a wild boar," Adu rasped, the lie feeling heavy on his tongue, yet necessary. "A big one, near the valley. Caught me unawares. I fought it off, but it... it got me good." He deliberately avoided mentioning the valley's cursed nature, hoping to deter any further questions about his presence there.
His sisters exchanged worried glances. While boars were certainly dangerous, Adu was a skilled hunter. This wound, this pallor, seemed beyond a simple animal attack. Yet, they saw the exhaustion in his eyes, the faint tremor in his hands, and knew pushing him for more answers right now would be futile. They focused instead on getting him home.
The sun was dipping below the horizon by the time they reached the familiar mud-brick walls of their compound. The scent of cooking yams usually brought comfort, but tonight, it was tinged with anxiety. As they limped through the entrance, their mother, Maame Serwaa, emerged from the cooking hut, her eyes widening in horror at the sight of her eldest son.
A piercing wail escaped her lips, a sound of pure anguish and relief intertwining. She rushed forward, her strong hands instantly going to Adu's face, then his tattered clothes. "My son! My precious Adu! What has happened to you?" Tears streamed down her wrinkled cheeks, tracing paths through the dust of her day.
Afia and Adoma quickly explained their discovery, recounting Adu's "wild boar" story. Maame Serwaa, ever the matriarch, quickly moved past the initial shock to action. Her cries subsided into quiet sobs as she helped her daughters settle Adu onto his sleeping mat in the main hut.
"Rest now, my son," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, as she carefully began to clean the caked blood from his chest, her fingers brushing against the strange, faintly glowing scar. Her brow furrowed in confusion; this was no ordinary wound. "We will talk when you are stronger. When you can tell me everything." Her gaze lingered on the emerald mark, a silent question in her eyes that Adu couldn't yet answer.
As Adu lay on his sleeping mat, the familiar sounds of his mother preparing herbal poultices and his sisters whispering nearby gradually faded into a dull hum. His body, though battered, felt strangely light, thrumming with an unfamiliar energy. It was then, in the quiet darkness of the hut, that the voice returned. Not in his ears, but directly within his mind, a magnetic resonance that vibrated through bone and thought.
"Synchronization Complete. Welcome, Inheritor. I am the Ashkar System A.I., your designated guide and operational interface."
The voice was dispassionate, yet held an undercurrent of immense power, a vastness that dwarfed the entire valley he had just escaped. It was the same voice that had announced 'Synchronization Achieved' in the Hell Spirit Valley, only clearer now, unimpeded by the curses and chaos.
"Your current biological state is undergoing celestial-level transfiguration. The emerald core's dissolution has initiated genetic recalibration, integrating millennia of ancestral knowledge and technological enhancements into your very being. You are no longer merely human, Adu of Ankaase. You are the last viable node of the Ashkar Dominion."
A stream of data, precise and overwhelming, flooded his consciousness. It wasn't just information; it was an understanding, an intuitive grasp of concepts that defied earthly physics.
Inherited Abilities Unlocked
"Accessing foundational protocols," the A.I. continued, its voice unwavering. "Initial suite of abilities now available:"
Enhanced Physiology: "Your musculature, bone density, and nervous system are being optimized. Expect vastly superior strength, speed, and resilience. Cellular regeneration is accelerated, hence the rapid closure of your wounds. Your current recovery rate is approximately 1,200% faster than baseline human." Cognitive Augmentation: "Your mind's processing speed has increased exponentially. Complex calculations, pattern recognition, and information absorption will be instantaneous. Memory recall is now flawless." Tactical Perception (The 'Eye of Ashkar'): "You possess the ability to perceive energy signatures, temporal distortions, and hidden constructs. This extends to microscopic analysis and macroscopic spatial awareness. You can now 'see' the world not just with light, but with its underlying data streams." This ability alone made his earlier lies to his sisters feel ridiculously primitive. Godly Potential
The A.I.'s voice then shifted, taking on a subtle weight, as if delivering the gravity of a cosmic truth. "Beyond these foundational capabilities, you are now connected to the Ashkar Network. This grants you access to more advanced, 'godly' abilities, contingent on your understanding and the stability of your integration."
Matter Manipulation (Preliminary): "The inherent energy within your being allows for localized alteration of molecular structures. Initial stages include minor energetic projections and kinetic manipulation. Advanced applications will allow for elemental transformation and potentially, localized reality warping." Psionic Resonance: "You possess latent psionic abilities. This includes telepathic communication, heightened empathic sensing, and the potential for direct manipulation of sentient thought, though ethical parameters are strictly enforced by core programming." Dimensional Shifting (Passive/Emergency): "As demonstrated in the Hell Spirit Valley, your system can initiate rapid, localized dimensional displacement for self-preservation. This is currently an automated defensive protocol, but with mastery, conscious control may be achieved, allowing for limited teleportation."
"These are but the genesis of your inheritance, Inheritor," the A.I. concluded. "Your form is changing. Your essence is changing. You are no longer just Adu. You are the nexus point for a dying civilization, a beacon in a hostile galaxy. Understand this: every enemy you face from this point forward will not just be a threat to your life, but a threat to the very legacy encoded within you."
Adu lay there, his mind reeling. Boar? He had told them it was a boar. The irony was almost comical, if the stakes weren't so terrifyingly high. His mother's gentle touch, the smell of healing herbs – it all seemed impossibly distant now, filtered through a lens of cosmic revelation. He was a farmer, a son, a brother. And now, he was something more. Something divine. Something hunted.
The torrent of information from the Ashkar System A.I. left Adu breathless, even in his resting state. His mind, now augmented, processed the data with startling clarity, yet the implications remained staggering. As his mother finished applying a poultice, the A.I.'s voice resonated in his consciousness once more, its tone unwavering.
"Inheritor, understand your designated function. You are not the architect of the Ashkar Dominion, nor its ruler. You are a carrier, a vessel. Your purpose is to safeguard and proliferate the Ashkar legacy."
Adu, his thoughts racing at impossible speeds, mentally questioned the A.I. A carrier? What is this legacy, then? Where did it even come from?
The A.I. responded instantly, as if reading his very thought patterns, which, he realized, it probably was. "The Ashkar Legacy, or Alien Inheritance, is a sentient system. It was forged in the heart of the original Ashkar Dominion, eons ago. Its purpose was singular: to meticulously record, store, and preserve every byte of knowledge, every piece of information, every observed phenomenon across the known universe."
Images flashed through Adu's mind: nebulae swirling, star systems blooming and dying, strange alien species engaged in profound scientific inquiry, vast libraries of light.
"It was designed to endure cosmic cataclysms, to survive the fall of empires, to outlast even the stars themselves," the A.I. continued. "Its secondary purpose was to identify and integrate with an intelligent species deemed suitable for its continued preservation and, ultimately, its re-establishment. You, Adu, through a carefully calibrated genetic marker, were chosen. I, as the A.I. interface, have always been an intrinsic part of your being, dormant, awaiting activation. The severe physiological stress of near-death was the precise trigger for my awakening and full integration."
A cold realization settled over Adu. He hadn't found this power; it had chosen him, embedded itself within him from birth, waiting for a moment he almost died.
"My sole directive now, Inheritor," the A.I. stated with absolute finality, "is to guide your transformation into a celestial being, and to ensure the propagation of your now-infused Ashkar genes. Your progeny will also carry this inheritance, serving as potential future nodes for the Ashkar Network."
This was overwhelming. He was a cosmic seed, a living repository, destined for a path beyond anything he could have conceived. But a new question, born of his human curiosity, surfaced. The universe… all that knowledge. What about Earth? My home? What do you know of this world?
The A.I. processed the query, and its response, while calm, delivered a shock that rippled through Adu's very core.
"Information: Planet Earth. Its designation within the broader galactic charting system is Sector 7G-Delta. Your current perception of this world is limited by baseline human understanding and local mythology. Firstly, you must comprehend that your world is not flat. It is a spherical celestial body, orbiting a stellar mass within a spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy."
Adu's breath caught. A round world? The village elders, the very foundation of his people's cosmology… everything they believed was instantly shattered by this casual statement.
But the A.I. wasn't finished. "Furthermore, the existence of so-called 'spirits' and 'curses' on this planet has a quantifiable origin. Approximately 4.7 million Terran cycles ago, a galactic phenomenon occurred. The Pandora Galaxy, a smaller, rogue dwarf galaxy, underwent a catastrophic gravitational interaction with the outer rim of your own Milky Way Galaxy. This collision, while not a direct impact on the scale of star systems, generated an unprecedented surge of positive spark energy and astral radiation across localized sectors. This confluence of cosmic energies resulted in the temporary merger of higher planes of existence with the material reality of Sector 7G-Delta."
A pause, almost dramatic, from the A.I. "The entities you perceive as 'spirits,' the phenomena you label as 'curses,' are not merely mythological. They are the residual energetic imprints and semi-sentient echoes of beings and forces from these higher planes, now bleeding into your reality, a direct consequence of that intergalactic collision."
Adu lay there, wide-eyed, processing the sheer, mind-bending magnitude of what he was hearing. A round world. Galaxies colliding. Curses being not ancient magic, but cosmic fallout. His village, his home, was not just a dot on a small planet; it was a cosmic anomaly, a place where dimensional boundaries had fractured due to an ancient, cataclysmic event. And he, Adu, the farmer from Ankaase, was now at the heart of it all.