The silence in the lab pressed in, thick as the shadows pooling at Lingxu's feet. Only the faint, hungry hum of the Void Core broke the stillness—a sound that seemed to vibrate in his bones. Lingxu stood motionless before the pedestal, still processing the golden interfaces hovering at the edge of his vision. The Matrix's presence in his mind was both unsettling and oddly comforting.
[User: Wei Lingxu]
[Status: Critical – Stabilized]
[Core Directive: Preserve User]
[System Capabilities: Initialization Phase]
He swallowed, throat dry. "What are you, really?" The words escaped in a whisper, barely more than a tremor in the dark.
The Matrix's reply was a thought pressed gently into his mind, its tone both intimate and vast:
I am the Omni-Providence Matrix. I exist to guide, protect, and empower. Integration incomplete.
Lingxu's hands trembled. He remembered his father's stories—ancient bargains with spirits, forbidden artifacts that offered power at a hidden cost. Yet this was something else: the Matrix felt sentient, aware, as if it watched him from behind every symbol.
He circled the Core, searching for answers. On the workbench, his father's journal lay open, pages stained with oil and urgency.
Day 143: The Core is restless. The Matrix whispers of convergence. Lingxu must never activate it unless there is no other choice.
Day 156: The Devourers draw closer. If I fall, the Matrix will choose. Lingxu's will must be strong. The price of power is never simple…
A chill crept through Lingxu. He closed the journal and looked up at the Core, then at the Matrix's interface, now pulsing with cold light.
[Emergency Function: Temporal Reversion – 1 Charge Available]
[Description: Rewind local time up to 10 seconds. Warning: Temporal stress may cause cognitive dissonance.]
He sat heavily at the bench, head in his hands. The "Temporal Reversion" ability he had seen listed in the Matrix's interface moments ago—the temptation to test this power warred with a deeper fear: what would it cost him?
A sudden clang echoed from the tunnel. Lingxu froze. Footsteps—heavy, deliberate—approached, boots scraping on concrete. Instinct took over. He snuffed the lights and slipped behind a crate, heart thundering.
Two men entered, faces masked by black scarves. One gripped a pistol, the other a wicked dao blade. Triad enforcers—the same who had tried to kill him earlier.
"Check the Core," the first barked. "If the Zhang brat's here, kill him."
Lingxu's mind raced. No weapon. No plan. Only the Matrix.
Help me, he pleaded in silence.
The runes in his vision flickered, urgent.
[Threat Level: Moderate. Recommended Action: Evasion or Neutralization.]
The men split up, flashlights cutting jagged paths through the gloom. The one with the blade drew closer, eyes narrowing.
Lingxu held his breath. The man's gaze swept past—then snapped back. "There!"
A pistol rose. Lingxu flinched—
—and the world snapped.
For a heartbeat, everything blurred: the gunman's gesture reversed, shadows recoiled, and Lingxu was crouched behind the crate once more, ten seconds earlier.
[Temporal Reversion Complete. System Stability: 97%]
No hesitation this time. He lunged for a heavy wrench, hurling it at the security panel by the door. Sparks burst, plunging the lab into darkness.
The men cursed, flashlights swinging wildly. Guided by the Matrix's golden glow, Lingxu crawled toward the far corner. A schematic unfolded in his mind's eye—a hidden ventilation shaft, just wide enough.
He slipped inside as bullets tore the air, the Matrix whispering directions with icy calm. Metal pinged and ricocheted, but Lingxu kept moving, every muscle burning.
He emerged into a storage chamber, slumping against cold steel crates. Shivering, he stared at his shaking hands. The power he'd wielded—it was real. Terrifyingly real.
What's the cost? The Matrix had warned him: temporal stress, cognitive dissonance. Already, memories flickered at the edges of his mind, neon-bright and unstable. Had he truly rewound time, or was he losing his grip on reality?
He pressed his palms to his eyes, fighting the urge to scream.
The Matrix's voice returned, softer now, as if sensing his fear.
[User stability: 74%. Rest recommended. Further integration will unlock advanced functions.]
Lingxu exhaled, shaky but alive. The world outside pressed closer—Triads, cosmic threats, and the unknown price of the Core's power. He glanced back through the vent, watching the enforcers tear the lab apart. There was no triumph in his survival—only exhaustion, and the cold certainty that this was just the beginning.