The air shimmered with specks of light, tiny as micro-stars, drifting in a space where gravity and sound remained undefined. Ling Yu's consciousness still swam in a haze, though his body slowly adjusted to this alien world. Beneath the bed lay floating metal crystalline plates, the walls pulsing like a living breath, energy molecules seeping from the air, giving the room the feel of a living entity.
The white-robed woman stepped inside, her footsteps silent, her presence powerful yet unoppressive. She appeared young, yet exuded an undeniable "existence," as if she stood not just here but across countless timelines, pulling past and future into this moment.
"Do you remember me?" she asked, her voice like a lute's melody slipping into his ears, carrying a subtle magnetic interference that demanded full attention.
Ling Yu shook his head, though a flicker of familiarity stirred within. He was certain he'd never seen her in reality.
She smiled. "It's normal not to remember. The body you inhabit now is just one vessel among your many fate lines. Our true connection doesn't stem from this timeline."
Ling Yu frowned. "Then what's our relationship…?"
She stepped closer, her fingertip brushing his forehead. A sharp pain jolted his mind—as if a seal broke, flooding him with memories: a white-domed training ground, the agony of countless consciousness transfers, and… her, always standing by the door, silently recording his deaths and restarts.
"I am an Observer, and one of your 'initial coders.' You may call me—Ruiya."
Ling Yu staggered back, forcing his mind to steady. The flood of information was overwhelming, yet it forced him to face a harsh truth:
He wasn't "chosen"—he was created.
Ruiya continued, "You are now at the Mixed-Dimensional Junction—a critical hub linking the main axes of all timelines. This isn't a world, but the umbilical cord of all worlds."
"You were sent here because 'that rift' has fully opened."
The word "rift" tightened his chest. He recalled standing at the cliff, gazing at the frozen starry void; he remembered stepping into the forest, finding a mysterious path absent from any map; he remembered choosing the third orb—the chaotic, nameless, unpredictable door of fate.
"So this is all a result of my own choice?" he whispered.
Ruiya nodded, her expression grave. "You chose the undetermined fate. This path offers no turning back. You'll head to the true 'Fracture Realm,' where fate and consciousness intertwine at the edge, the shattered origin above all fate systems."
Ling Yu fell silent. He knew his life no longer belonged to Earth's single timeline. Every decision now would reshape the overlapping points of countless universes.
He raised his right hand, the star-ring mark still spinning, like the activation core of an ancient device awaiting its next phase.
"What must I do?" he asked.
Ruiya's gaze turned cold. "Survive. Then… reclaim all the fragmented selves you've lost."
With a wave of her hand, the space split open, revealing a "passage" of spinning geometric totems—floating runes, fragmented space structures, and time shards. This was no human-understandable path, but a multidimensional gate to the core of fate.
"Pass through here, and you'll enter the Fracture Realm's border, making contact with your first fragmented self. From him—yourself—you'll retrieve your first core soul memory."
Ruiya paused, her eyes deepening. "But remember, all fragmented selves have endured fate's collapse. They may be unstable, fallen, or even see you as an enemy. Stay lucid, or you'll be shattered into another remnant."
Ling Yu stared at the light door, his heart steady with little hesitation.
In that moment, he realized he'd never belonged to a single version of fate. Perhaps that's why, when the rift appeared, only he could see it.
"I'm ready," he said calmly.
Ruiya nodded. "Then activate the first-layer crossing."
She conjured a command rune, tossing it into the air. The room warped, disintegrated, and transformed into a massive transmission array. The rune and mark intertwined, forming an accelerating energy channel.
Ling Yu stepped in, light flaring beneath his feet—then his consciousness was yanked into the dimensional rift.
A powerful reconstruction force enveloped him from all sides.
He felt not like moving, but being deconstructed into data, then redownloaded into another existence. It was like shifting from human to light, then compressed into a thought unit, injected into an unfinished memory script.
The world brightened abruptly.
He opened his eyes to a dreamlike space—ground of flowing glass, sky of swirling purple clouds, the entire area a twisted brain-like structure, adrift with memory fragments and image bubbles.
This was the Fracture Realm border.
He glanced down as text appeared at his feet:
[Target locating… Fragmented Self: X-13 approaching]
As he tensed, the space ahead shattered like glass, and a figure emerged—nearly identical to him, but with blood-red eyes, a weary face, and a tattered uniform, his aura wild as a beast.
The man locked eyes with him, a cold smirk curling his lips. "Another illusion? You lot never give up."
Ling Yu's heart skipped—this wasn't an illusion, but a real version of himself, from a destroyed timeline.
"X-13?" he ventured.
The man stepped closer, his voice thick with hatred and bitterness. "I should've died in the seventh consciousness burst. You overseers keep forcing me to repeat, piece together, then collapse—now another fake me shows up…"
Ling Yu tried to explain, but the man's killing intent solidified, red runes drifting in the air—mad memory fragments from a broken world, summoned by X-13 as a weapon.
"No matter who you are, this time, I'll end it all."
To be continued…
Ling Yu stumbled back several steps, the space beneath his feet rippling like liquid. This wasn't just the Fracture Realm border—it was a battlefield of mind and memory, where combat meant not just physical clashes but a direct collision of "fate memory structures."
X-13 raised his hands, unleashing a barrage of blade-like shadows formed from red-black energy streams. These weren't physical attacks but "consciousness blades" forged from past trauma and rage. Ling Yu dodged by instinct, one blade grazing his right arm, leaving a searing pain—as if a piece of his emotions had been forcibly severed.
"He's gone mad… This isn't just distortion—it's a complete break from the original self's boundaries," Ling Yu thought, alarmed. He realized this wasn't a simple fight but a rejection reaction from a fragmented self against the "whole consciousness." X-13 wasn't evil; he'd lost the ability to believe after countless cycles of reincarnation and memory shredding.
"I'm not here to control you or destroy you," Ling Yu said, retreating to a floating memory platform, locking eyes with X-13. "I am you. I've come to reclaim our lost core, to stop this line from repeating its past destruction."
X-13 let out a bitter laugh, his voice dripping with despair. "You don't get it… After thirteen full deaths, after being killed hundreds of times by your own dreams, you'd know—there's no core left, just endless broken echoes."
As he spoke, X-13 pressed his hands to the ground. The space quaked, and memory scenes erupted from below like an earthquake—visions of his tormented fate:
He fell on a flame-scorched battlefield, surrounded by the mangled remains of comrades.
He betrayed a loved one during a mission, watching them vanish into a consciousness vortex.
He was used as an experimental subject by the "Fate Center," copied, sliced, and destroyed repeatedly…
These weren't illusions but real past agonies, now weaponized by X-13 to strike at Ling Yu's heart.
But Ling Yu didn't flinch.
He stood firm, enduring the memory waves crashing over him—each a death, mistake, or collapse from a version of "him." His chest burned, his breath stalled, and he nearly collapsed, yet his gaze grew steadier.
Because within the pain, he saw an untainted "belief."
In one scene, X-13 shielded a dying child's consciousness amid despair.
In another, he threw a self-destruct switch at himself to save his team.
In yet another, he reunited with his mother in a dream, whispering, "I'm sorry, I haven't come back yet."
Ling Yu drew a deep breath, raising his palm, aligning the star-ring mark toward X-13.
"We're not perfect fate fragments, but I still remember that initial resolve—to not let the world be destroyed."
The star-ring flared, releasing a blue-white energy stream that clashed with X-13's wild field—not to destroy, but to merge.
In that instant, the Fracture Realm space seemed unlocked by a high-dimensional key. An ancient, faint "fate echo" appeared in the sky:
[Reconstruction sequence initiated… Soul Fragment X-13 synchronization successful]
X-13's eyes widened, the red fading, a flicker of confusion and clarity emerging. He sank to his knees, whispering, "You're still there… I thought we were gone forever."
Ling Yu approached, placing a hand on his chest.
The next moment, X-13 dissolved into a stream of light, slowly merging into Ling Yu's body.
The light surged into Ling Yu's chest—not a mere absorption, but a fusion of two soul-core memories. Emotions, pain, beliefs, and regrets intertwined in a near-cruel process, weaving through his consciousness core.
His knees buckled, and he fell.
In that instant, he was no longer just "Ling Yu" but a blend of X-13's experiences—a berserk warrior in ruins, a prisoner shattered by fate's experiments, a self proving belief through death.
This was a profound "personality resonance," shattering an inner boundary within him.
The distant Fracture Realm trembled, the floating memory bubbles shattering to reveal hidden passages. A system prompt echoed in his mind:
[Soul-core synchronization complete. First layer achieved. 'Deep Realm Link' activated. Next target: Fragmented Self X-07 (Subjective Interference Type)]
Ling Yu rose slowly, drawing a deep breath. This was only the beginning.
He looked up at the twisted sky, his gaze no longer lost.
"No matter how many of me are forgotten, I'll bring them back, one by one."
To be continued…