Kael sat at his narrow desk in the dim light of his quarters. The air smelled faintly of metal dust and old oil. His hands rested on the smooth surface of a data tablet, the screen glowing with quiet energy.
He had done it. He had walked away from the Academy.
Hours ago, he had still been an instructor, a man clinging to order in a world that had already begun to decay. Now, he was untethered, a man reborn with the Eclipse Core whispering in his mind.
It was time to begin his first creation.
"Core," he said softly. "Display the Directive Interface."
At once, faint symbols and lines of light appeared in the air before him.
[ECLIPSE CORE: DIRECTIVE ACCESS]Primary Directive: Construct your first creation]Parameters:
Choose a Field of Design
Create a Prototype
Test and Refine
Completion Reward: Access to Advanced Architect Module and increased neural synchronization
Kael studied the interface carefully. Streams of potential disciplines appeared before him, each pulsing faintly.
Available Fields: Artificial Intelligences, Synthetic Constructs, Defensive Systems, Energy Conduits, Data Networks
He leaned back in his chair, lost in thought.
Artificial Intelligences tempted him. He had once been the leading voice in that field, the one who had birthed the first sentient program that nearly tore the world apart. But the materials and computing cores required for such work would drain every resource he had.
Energy Conduits and Constructs were equally impossible for now. Too many materials, too much exposure.
That left him with Defensive Systems and Data Networks.
Defensive Systems were elegant in their simplicity. A field built around protection, automation, and preservation. He could use his knowledge of past technologies to develop something light, efficient, and easily hidden.
And more importantly, profitable.
"Core," he said after a moment. "Select the field of Defensive Systems."
The symbols pulsed once before a new message appeared.
[Field Selected: Defensive Systems]Progress: 20 Percent]
Kael nodded slightly. "So that is how it begins."
Then another question formed. "Core, if I alter the field midway, what will occur?"
Once a field is chosen, it cannot be altered. Any creation outside the designated category will not fulfill the directive.]
He exhaled quietly. "Then I must choose well from now on."
The faint light from the interface cast long shadows across the room. He turned to his workbench, where an old data processor sat dormant beneath a layer of dust. It was a relic from the first age of computation, a model that barely functioned even when the world still had power.
Kael pressed the switch. The device made a tired sound, flickered once, then fell silent.
He frowned, tapping the surface with two fingers. "Still stubborn after all these years."
The lights blinked again and the processor came to life, displaying its fractured interface.
"Good," he said quietly. "You still remember me."
He opened the archives and began to scan through the fragments of code he had salvaged from before the fall.
Firewalls. Intrusion detectors. Memory scramblers. He had written most of them in his youth, long before betrayal had rewritten his life.
What the world once called cybersecurity, Kael now saw as the art of defense, the language of survival.
He imagined a system that could detect threats before they emerged. A structure of light and logic that could adapt, predict, and counter. Not merely a wall of code, but a living shield that could sense danger across networks, across minds.
An idea began to take form.
He would call it Sentinel.
A defensive core built to guard against digital and neural corruption. A watcher of the unseen.
Sentinel would be the foundation of everything to come.
He began sketching the framework across the projection grid. Symbols shifted and lines of light connected into shapes of logic. The room filled with faint hums as the Eclipse Core synchronized with his thoughts.
The concept grew sharper. Sentinel would merge ancient defense protocols with his new understanding of the Core. It would analyze patterns, learn from each intrusion, and strengthen itself endlessly.
The more he planned, the more his pulse quickened.
This was his beginning. His claim to existence reborn.
As he continued writing, the processor sputtered and the light dimmed. The screen froze, displaying a cascade of distorted lines.
Kael frowned. "No. Not now."
He tapped a few keys. Nothing.
He pressed the switch again. Still nothing.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. "You fragile machine…"
Then, with a faint hum, the processor flickered back to life.
Kael smiled faintly. "Stubbornness is a virtue after all."
He saved his schematics and leaned back, staring at the glowing lines of Sentinel's first framework.
Tomorrow, he would begin gathering the materials and testing the first model.
Outside, the night deepened over New Arcadia, the stars flickering faintly through the city's shield.
He looked toward the window, eyes calm and resolute.
"It begins here," he whispered. "And this time, I build not for salvation. I build to endure."