The sun rose like a blade over the wasteland. Rick sat at the edge of a dune, sweat dripping down his face, the wind burning his eyes. His breath came slow and steady, though his body no longer needed air. He could feel it, the energy pulsing under his skin, restless, alive, dangerous. It wanted to escape, to tear through him again like fire. He looked at his trembling hands. The veins glowed faint gold, brighter than they had the night before. “System,” he said quietly, “how far can I push it before I die?” [Unclear. Life-Qi threshold untested.] He gave a humorless laugh. “Then let’s find out.” [Warning: testing beyond safe parameters.] Rick stood, his shadow long against the sand. The wind howled, carrying the smell of dust and ozone. His heart did not beat, but he felt a rhythm inside him all the same, a dangerous pulse begging to be freed. He clenched his fists. “Begin recording.” [Recording active.] He closed his eyes and reached inward, pulling at the thread of

The storm had passed, leaving the desert in ruins. Rick walked through the scorched wasteland, his boots sinking into blackened sand. Every few steps, the earth still crackled with faint static. The air smelled of metal and burned air, thick enough to sting his throat. He didn’t know how long he had been walking. The sun hung pale and distant, the sky a dull gray. His white-streaked hair clung to his face, damp with sweat. The golden glow beneath his skin had dimmed.Though sometimes, when he blinked, he saw sparks in the corner of his vision, like dying stars trying to stay alive. The wind was quiet. Too quiet, then a voice broke the silence. “Rick.”He froze. His head snapped up. The desert stretched empty in every direction. He whispered, “System, confirm source.” [No external sound detected.] He turned slowly, eyes scanning the horizon. “Don’t lie to me. I heard it.” [Audio interference: internal origin probable.] He frowned. “Internal? You mean I’m hearing things?”

The desert screamed. The sky turned the color of ash, and wind ripped across the dunes with a sound like a thousand whispers. Rick pressed himself against the canyon wall, shielding his face from flying sand. The storm had come out of nowhere.A wall of gold and red, alive with static. The System’s faint voice buzzed in his ear like a dying spark. [Warning: atmospheric instability critical.] “Yeah, no kidding,” Rick muttered, coughing as sand bit at his lips. He looked for shelter, a hollow cut into the rock face nearby, dark and narrow. He stumbled toward it, half blind, dragging his pack behind him. The moment he stepped inside, the wind’s howl dulled to a deep, rhythmic hum. It wasn’t silence. It was a heartbeat, the storm’s heartbeat. Rick leaned against the stone, breathing hard. “System,” he said quietly, “record this. I want every detail.” [Recording active.] Lightning flared outside the canyon mouth, painting the walls white. For a heartbeat, Rick saw his reflect

The sky burned gold at dawn as Rick approached the ruins. The black dome he had chased across the desert for days was finally close enough to touch the horizon. From afar, it looked lifeless, a mountain of metal half-swallowed by sand. But as he drew nearer, the air began to hum, deep, rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat. The ground changed too. The soft dunes turned to solid stone streaked with strange symbols. His boots scraped against surfaces that shimmered faintly beneath the dust. Rick stopped and stared. “System,” he whispered, “are you seeing this?” [Affirmative. Reading high levels of residual Qi energy. Structure integrity: 27%.] He knelt, brushing sand off one of the symbols. The carvings weren’t random. They looked like veins, running through the stone, pulsing faintly with light. “This isn’t just a ruin,” he said quietly. “It’s alive.” [Clarify statement.] Rick smiled faintly. “You don’t feel it, do you? The pulse. The same rhythm as you.” [Observation: env

The desert was silent except for the faint whisper of wind brushing against stone. The old temple loomed behind Rick, half buried, half alive, a graveyard of forgotten science.For days, he had scavenged the broken halls, searching for pieces that still worked. Bits of glass, crystal cores, rusted tools. Everything had a story. Everything had potential.Now, at the edge of the ruins, under a shallow overhang, a small fire flickered beside his newest creation. A lab.Not a real one, not the clean, white rooms he once worked in, but something raw, patched together from memory and desperation.Cables ran from ancient machines to scavenged power cells. Crystals pulsed faintly inside makeshift jars. A cracked lens from a forgotten scanner rested on a tripod made of welded scrap metal.Rick stood in the middle of it all, his face lit by the glow. His hands shook, not from weakness, but from excitement. “This will do,” he murmured. “For now.”[Environmental stability: 42%. Equipment integri