As Stella sat there, submerged in despair, the memory of her last delivery before the art center surfaced. It was to a remote, quiet nursing home. The order was a simple bowl of vegetable soup for a resident in the corner room.
The man who opened the door was ancient, his face a roadmap of wrinkles, but his eyes were as clear and deep as a well. He hadn't just thanked her; he had insisted she take something in return.
"This is for you, little girl," he had said, his voice raspy like dry leaves. He had pressed a small, antique bronze lamp into her hands. It was heavy, intricately carved with patterns she didn't recognize. "This light begins with sincerity and is manifested through action. Remember that."
At the time, she thought he was just a kind, eccentric old man. Now, sitting in the dark, she pulled the lamp from her delivery box. It was cold to the touch.
"Light it... and it will illuminate the darkness?" she whispered to herself, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. The words sounded hollow in the empty room.
But what else did she have?
This lamp was her only "gain" from a night of loss and humiliation. It was absurd, but it was all she had left.
Meanwhile, across the city, inside the "Genesis Tech" tower, the top-floor laboratory was a world away from Stella's.
It was a realm of cold, hard data. Giant holographic projections swirled with complex data streams, the only sound the low hum of server banks.
Aidan Lin, the man who, at only twenty-eight, commanded a multi-billion-dollar tech empire, stood before a massive data waterfall. He wore a tailored black shirt, his features sharp, a pair of rimless glasses perched on his nose. Behind the lenses, his eyes were as sharp as scalpels.
He was hunting a ghost.
A signal that had first appeared three months ago. It lasted only a few minutes each time, but it could penetrate all physical shielding, releasing a "pure, ordered" energy wave. He had named it "The Flame of Prometheus."
"Sir!" A researcher's voice, sharp with excitement, cut through the silence. He pointed at a red alert flashing on the main screen. "Prometheus has appeared! And the energy intensity... it's the highest peak we've ever recorded!"
Aidan spun around, striding to the control console. On the screen, a smooth curve suddenly shot up like a needle piercing the sky.
"Pinpoint the coordinates!" His voice was calm, decisive.
"Locking on... The source is located... West City, the old district, near Changle Street!"
"Access all surveillance in that area. Analyze the energy model. I want to know what it is!" Aidan's fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes glinting with the thrill of a hunter who has finally cornered his prey.
This wasn't science.
It was a miracle.
And he was going to capture it.
Countless surveillance feeds flashed across the screen, analyzed in microseconds. All the data pointed to an unexplainable singularity—Apartment 7 on Changle Street. The source of the most intense signal had vanished in a matter of seconds, as if it had never been there.
Aidan's lips slowly curved into a smile of absolute certainty.
He had found it.
He had found her.
"Notify the 'SkyEye' team," he ordered, his voice echoing with unquestionable authority. His new head of security, Zion Chen, a man as precise and silent as a military drone, appeared on the screen.
"From this moment on," Aidan commanded, "I want every living soul on Changle Street under surveillance."