Warmth.
Not the soft kind you feel curled beneath a blanket, nor the radiant kind of sunlight against skin. This was older. Primal. Less a temperature and more a pulse—slow, steady, rhythmic. It didn't touch my surface, it resonated through me. Like I was drifting inside the heartbeat of a slumbering sun.
No breath. No heartbeat. No body.
Only thought.
Then—light, without light. A flicker in the dark.
[System Booting: Hatchling Protocol v1.0]
The message didn't echo. It etched. Across consciousness. Sharp. Clear. An edge drawn through fog. Then came more.
[Cognitive Signature Detected — ID: Kael Ishiro] [Soul-thread Integration: Fragmented] [Stability Index: 68%... increasing...] [ERROR — Non-humanoid configuration detected. Adapting...]
"Where... what is this?"
It wasn't speech. Just thought. Raw and jagged.
"Ah. You're awake."
The voice was female. Dry. Slightly glitchy. It didn't sound like a recording, and it didn't sound surprised.
"Good job holding together. That's not always guaranteed."
"Who are you?"
"Name's Ember. System Liaison, Hatchling Protocol. Think of me as your survival assistant-slash-rebirth coach. Your very own guide to post-human metaphysical processing."
"I don't... I don't understand."
"Yeah, that's common. Early soul stabilization usually comes with cognitive drag. You're doing okay, though. Your core's warming up nicely."
"What happened to me?"
"You died. Probably. Or something close enough. Your soul got... clipped in transit. What's left of it ended up here."
"Here?"
"In an egg."
I reached out, though I had no arms. I extended my sense—not physically, but conceptually. There was a boundary around me. Curved. Organic. Dense. Warm.
An egg.
"What kind egg am I?"
Ember hesitated before replying, voice low and precise:
"Phoenix relic. You're inside a phoenix egg."
I blinked, though there were no eyes to close. "Phoenix?"
"Spirit-beast," Ember explained. "Ancient creature that dies in flames and is reborn from its own ashes. Symbol of cyclical rebirth and power."
"That... doesn't make this any less insane."
Ember's tone softened for a moment. "Welcome to your new reality, hatchling."
[Relic Type: Crimson Core Egg — Phoenix Variant Class-B+] [Shell Integrity: 93% — Stable] [Core Stability: 70% — Stabilizing] [Hatch Progress: 0.6%]
The numbers flickered behind my thoughts, meaningless but heavy. Hatch Progress. Core Stability. I was being measured, monitored.
System-born.
"I was human."
"Seems like it," Ember said. "Your soulprint's compressed, fragmented, probably digitized and re-encoded before it landed in here. Some kind of tech-cultivation interference, maybe. You've got strange syntax in your core."
"I don't remember anything but heat... and a name."
"Kael," she confirmed.
"Is this... how reincarnation works?"
"Not usually."
A long pause stretched between us.
"What happens if someone finds me before I hatch?"
"Then they find a priceless phoenix relic that's half-alive. Best case? You're revered. Worst case? You're dissected and repurposed for spirit treasures."
"Repurposed?"
"You don't want to know."
I tried to reach further—to push against the shell. But it was unyielding. My awareness slipped across its inner surface like oil on glass.
Something shifted in the distance.
"Did you hear that?"
Ember paused.
[External Vibration Detected... Proximity: 11.2 meters] [Unknown Cultivator Approaching — Status: Armed, Blooded]
"I've got Qi readings," Ember muttered. "Someone's moving rubble. Closing in."
"Qi?"
"...Qi — Its life-force energy, the power cultivators refine over years to defy nature."
Fear gripped me. My non-body tensed, though it had no muscles to clench.
"Help me."
"I am. I'm damping your Qi signature and slowing your Hatch Rate to avoid triggering relic alerts."
The scraping grew louder. Stone grinding against stone. A pause. Then—flesh against shell. A hand, maybe. Rough. Trembling.
[Emergency Subroutine Queued — Defensive Measures: 12% available]
"Phoenix relic..." a voice whispered, muffled through layers of mineral and memory. "Still warm."
The touch was reverent. Then hungry.
Ember's voice returned—quieter. No glitch. No sarcasm.
"Stay silent. Stay sealed. If they break you open too early, we both die."
"Stay silent. Stay sealed. If they break you open too early, we both die."
That was the last thing Ember said before everything stilled again.
But I didn't fall back into quiet. Not this time. Something inside pulled, twisted, and snapped like a taut thread. I wasn't just floating—I was being drawn inward. Not down. Just... deeper.
Then, light.
Not the external kind. A memory.
Emergency sirens painted the inside of my skull with red light. The air reeked of ozone and burning metal. I saw a corridor—metallic, sterile, fractured. Smooth white panels split by fault lines. Cracks formed like spiderwebs across a transparent canopy.
And then—her.
Selene.
She stood framed in a breach hatch, one arm outstretched, gloved in shimmering bio-weave. Her voice cut through the noise, urgent and bright.
"Kael! Go! The transfer's failing—don't look back!"
I tried to run to her. Or scream. Or speak. But I had no voice, no legs, nothing but the unbearable sensation of burning from the inside out.
[Memory Spike Detected — Vantierra Collapse Chain]
Flame. Then silence. Then void.
[Cognitive Load High — Stabilizing Emotional Surge...]
Ember's voice snapped into focus like a tether around my soul.
"Kael. Focus. That memory's not stable. You almost unraveled yourself."
I was panting inside my own mind. If I'd had lungs, they'd have seized. "That was real."
"It was," she said gently. "But too raw. Fragments like that can tear open unstable threads. You're not ready for that depth yet."
"Selene..."
"She's someone important," Ember admitted. "She did everything she could to get you uploaded."
I held on to the name. Let it echo. Let it anchor me.
"What happened to me?" I asked. "Really?"
Ember hesitated. "Something interfered with your soulprint mid-transfer. Could've been spiritual decay. Could've been tech sabotage. All I know is you didn't arrive whole."
'I should've seen it coming; I always push boundaries too far.'
I let the silence stretch until the pulsing warmth of the egg brought me back to the present. Then I said, "How do I survive this?"
"You track three things," Ember said. "Core Stability. Hatch Rate. Form Integrity."
"Break them down."
"Core Stability is your soul's cohesion. Think of it as how likely you are to survive staying conscious inside the relic. The stronger it is, the more you remember. The more control you get."
"Hatch Rate?"
"It's the process of syncing to your new vessel. Once that gets high enough, you'll have access to movement. Shape. Eventually—rebirth."
"And Form Integrity?"
Another pause.
"That's... complicated. Your signature's messy. Some of your soul seems phoenix-aligned. Some... doesn't."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're not what the system expected. You're not purely human anymore. But not purely beast either."
[Hybrid Soul Configuration Detected]
[Form Classification: Inconclusive — Manual Override Required]
I flinched. "Hybrid?"
"Unknown hybrid," Ember clarified. "There's something in you the Hatchling System isn't designed to interpret. Which means I can't either. Not yet."
"You've never seen anything like this before?"
Another long pause.
"I don't have memory of anything like you," Ember admitted. "But that might not mean much. Some system blocks can only be lifted after Hatch milestones. There's data I can't access... or maybe data I wasn't supposed to."
"And you just accept that?"
"I didn't say I liked it," she muttered. "I said I'm working with it."
Something heavy shifted above me. Closer than before. The faint scrape of metal across stone. My shell trembled—almost imperceptibly.
"Whatever's out there," I said, "it's closing in."
"Then we hold steady," Ember said. "Stay hidden. Keep syncing. You're not ready to meet the world yet."
"What if I want answers?"
"You'll get them," she said. "At ten percent."
[Core Stability: 74%] [Hatch Rate: 1.1%] [System Status: Suppressing External Scan — Passive Cloaking Engaged]
"One percent at a time," I whispered.
"That's the spirit," she said. "You just keep burning. I'll keep you whole."
Scrape.
The sound was unmistakable now. Closer. Rhythmic. Like stone being cleared with bare hands, slow and deliberate. My awareness pressed outward toward the source, touching the inner surface of the shell—my shell. It trembled beneath the vibration.
"They're on top of us," I murmured.
Ember didn't respond right away. Her presence—usually brisk and half-sarcastic—tightened like a wire being drawn taut.
[External Proximity: 0.9 meters — Motion Consistent with Excavation]
"Still not at full contact," she said eventually. "But we're out of time. If they touch the core crest..."
"What happens?"
"They won't know what to do with it. And the system won't be kind about them trying."
I reached again for something—any power, any influence. I imagined heat rising, fire coiling in a muscle I didn't yet possess. Nothing. The Hatch Rate hovered stubbornly at just over one percent.
The shell shuddered. A muffled grunt echoed through the stone, followed by a heavy thud. Then—light.
A fracture.
Not physical yet, but a ripple of pressure flooded the interior. My senses jolted. Outside, I felt Qi. Faint. Blood-soaked. Someone was hurt.
"I feel him," I whispered.
"Yeah," Ember said. "Cultivator. Weakening fast. Whatever got him... it's close, or was."
A shadow passed across me. Cold. Curious. Not malevolent exactly—just hungry.
"What do I do?"
"You hide," she said. "Pretend you're just a relic. If they think you're dormant, maybe they leave you behind. Maybe."
I didn't like that answer.
Another vibration. A crunch. Then—direct contact.
A hand.
It pressed against the surface—rough, calloused, trembling slightly. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. It pulsed heat and blood and exhaustion. The soul behind it was fraying.
"Found it," a voice muttered. Male. Breathy. Drenched in relief.
"Phoenix relic," he whispered, reverent. "Still warm..."
The fingers curled. Nails scraped the shell's curve like claws.
[Relic Touched — Passive Scan Triggered] [Energy Signature: Human Cultivator — Low Foundation Level. Condition: Bleeding. Intent: Unknown.]
Ember's voice dropped into a tone I hadn't heard before. Not dry. Not playful.
Cold.
"If he tries to breach, I'll trigger a lockout. Don't panic."
"What happens if he does?"
"You'll surge. And that might kill both of you."
Silence.
The cultivator's breathing grew ragged. I felt the pulse of his blood on the shell. Warm. Slow. Dying.
Then, footsteps.
A second presence.
Stronger.
Qi flared—hot, sharp, disciplined. The air outside changed. It pressed against the shell like a blade pressed to skin.
"Another one," I whispered. "Stronger than the first."
"Get ready," Ember said.
"Ready for what?"
"For your first instinct."
There was no time to ask what that meant.
The first man—bleeding, reverent—whispered one last thing:
"Elder Lei will want this..."
Then he crumpled.
The second presence moved forward.
The shell lit with pressure. The inner surface sparked—flecks of flame flickered across my vision.
[Emergency Contingency Queued — Flame Response Level 1]
"Heat bloomed under the shell—sharp as breath drawn over an open flame. Not mine. The world's."
"Kael," Ember said, no longer sarcastic. "If you feel anything, anything at all—don't hold it back."
The pressure mounted.
I didn't know what was coming next. But something inside me stirred. Not fear. Not pain. Something older.
Heat.