[Chapter 3: The Black Coin, Father’s Memento]
The white light of the mini portal faded, leaving Seven standing on the cold floor of the awakening halls stage. He stared into the air, waiting. He was waiting for the blue light of a status screen. Everyone that has awakened their marks gets a status system screen. He was waiting for a voice to tell him he had a Divine Essence. But the air stayed completely empty. There was nothing. He looked towards the officials that were sitting at the long table. The headmaster just shook his head and looked away, while scribbling a big "X" on a tablet. The teacher standing by the mini portal sighed. Pffft. "Next," the man said, not even looking Seven in the eye. A wave of laughter and quiet cheers broke out from the back of the hall. Hehe! Pay up! Pips "I told you!" a boy named Jax whispered, while rubbing his hands together. "The loser stayed a loser. That’s fifty credits you owe me, Leo!" Seven didn't say anything. He just stood there, while His face felt hot, and his heart felt like someone was squeezing it with a cold hand. He turned around and walked off the stage. He didn't look at the crowd. Neither did he wait for the principal to give the "congratulations" speech. He just kept walking, past the rows of students with their glowing divine marks, he walked out the double doors, and into the humid afternoon air. The city hummed with the sound of hover-cars, flying swords and the distant roar of the mechanics and tech. Vrummmm. He felt like an insufficient ghost in a world of neon. "Why?" he thought as he walked down the cracked sidewalk. "I did everything right. I trained almost all my lives. I waited" He thought about his mother, the soft hearted woman who worked two jobs to keep their small apartment. She had a small "Water Mist" essence. He thought about his little brother, who was only ten years old but already had a bright, jagged Divine Mark on his forearm. Yet to awaken. "They’re both gonna look at me with that 'pity' face, again" Seven muttered. Sigh. "That 'it's okay, you're still family' look. I hate it." He didn't go home straight, lol always. He went to the old, and rusted warehouse on the edge of the industrial district. It used to be his father’s workplace before he went to the war. His father was a Warframe (Mecha) producer. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of old oil and cold metal. Seven threw his school bag against a pile of empty crates. Thud! In his old life, he had watched an anime about a kid who had no magic but trained until he was the strongest and became the wizard king of the black clover. Seven had used that as his fuel. Since he had been five years old, he had been hitting sandbags and lifting iron. It was why he could win fights against bullies who hadn't Awakened their divine essence. But now, they all had their "Divine Essences." Muscles weren't going to stop a "Thunder Calamity" or "Black Flame." "It’s not enough," he growled. Grrr. He ripped off his uniform shirt, and tossing it onto a dusty chair. His body was lean and hard, already covered in a thin layer of sweat. He quickly dropped to the floor. "One!" Huff. "Two!" Puff. He started doing pushups at a speed that would make a normal person go dizzy. His arms blurred. Thwack, thwack, thwack went his palms against the concrete. He did 150 pushups. Then he flipped over and did 150 situps. His abs burned like they were on fire. Aaargh! He pushed through the pain, imagining the face of that bored God from the Reincarnation Hall, with hatred. "You... won't... break... me," he wheezed. Haaa... haaa... He was now dripping with sweat. His hair was matted to his forehead. He stood up, his legs shaking slightly, and he walked to a dark corner of the warehouse where he had kept a rag of a towel. He reached into the shadows of a shelf and grabbed the cloth. Tug. As he pulled the towel, something heavy and cold flew out from the folds. Clink. Clink. Roll. Seven froze. He watched a small, and dark object roll across the dusty floorboards. It stopped right in a patch of sunlight coming through a hole in the roof. It was a black coin. It didn't reflect the light. It looked like a black hole in the floor. Seven stared at the coin that was sitting in the dust. Then He reached out and picked it up. It felt heavier than it looked, almost like it was pulling on his hand. This wasn't just some random metal. His father had given it to him years ago, claiming he’d found it in the deep ruins of an old sector. Back then, Seven just thought it was a toy. The coin was strange. It had a perfectly round hole in the middle. Around the edges, there were tiny carvings. curved lines and sharp symbols that didn't match any language Seven had seen on the Galactic web. It looked ancient. To Seven, this was the only piece of his father he had left. His father was one of the only ones who hadn't cared about talent. When Seven was just a few days old, he had moved his baby food around on a tray to form the number '7'. His father had laughed and named him right there. "Guess you're all I’ve got now, Dad," Seven whispered. Sigh. He found a piece of thin, black rope in a toolbox. He threaded it through the hole in the coin and tied a knot. He looped it over his head. The cold metal rested right against his chest. It felt grounded. He went back to his training, punching the heavy bag until the sun went down and the warehouse turned pitch black. Whack! Thud! Snap! He finally walked back to the main house. As soon as he opened the door, the smell of spicy grilled beast-meat and sweet rice hit him. It was his favorite. "You're late, Seven," his mother said from the kitchen. She was smiling, but he could see the worry in her eyes. She was trying too hard to be cheerful. She knew he had failed. "Go wash up. Everything is hot." Soon Seven sat at the table and ate. He shoved the food into his mouth, while acting like he was perfectly fine. "This is great, Mom," he said, while forcing a grin. But inside, he felt like a fraud. He was the only person in the world who couldn't awaken a Divine essence. He felt like he was a mistake. After dinner, he went into the small bathroom. The steam from the hot water filled the room. Hiss. He wiped the mirror with his hand and looked at his reflection. He looked strong, but he knew he was "empty" inside. No Divine Essence. Means No future. "Pathetic," he muttered to himself. A single tear escaped his eye. It felt hot against his cold skin. It rolled down his cheek, hanging for a second before it fell. Plip. The tear landed right on the black coin hanging from his neck. Seven cursed under his breath and wiped his face quickly. He hated crying. He walked into the bedroom that he shared with his little brother. The lil boy was already passed out, snoring softly under a pile of blankets. His lil brother had a bright Mark on his arm. He would surely be a hero someday. Seven climbed into his own bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow, all his classmates would go to the Spirit Dimension. They would get a chance to hunt monsters and get Spirit Points. They would become real cultivators. The teachers had been very clear: Seven wouldn't be able to get in without a divine essence, it would be a waste of time. But he wanted to still go anyways. He wouldn't even be able to trigger the gate. "Stupid Gods," Seven whispered into the dark. "Stupid world." His eyes grew heavy. As he Yawn. He fell into a deep, and dreamless sleep. As the room grew silent, the black coin on his chest began to change. A faint, and purple-black light started to leak out of the carvings. It wasn't a bright light; it was dark, like a shadow that glowed. Vrummm. The air in the room started to vibrate very slowly. The shadow purple light began to crawl up the string and toward Seven’s skin. [End of Chapter]Latest Chapter
C88: Frequency Cage
C88: Frequency CageThe radio in Seven’s hand hissed like something alive.Shhhhhh… crack… shhh…His eyes stayed flat.No panic. No shock. Just analysis.The frequency dial refused to behave. Every adjustment snapped back into place like it was locked by invisible teeth.1542. Always 1542.Seven exhaled once through his nose.“So it’s not a device,” he muttered internally. “It’s a loop.”The carriage around him groaned under cold pressure.Wind slipped through metal seams that should not have had gaps. The temperature kept dropping in unnatural pulses, like the train itself was forgetting how warmth worked.Seven didn’t react to it.Fear was noise. Noise was data. Data was useful only when structured.Still, something was off.His gaze flicked across the cabin.The light system.It should have been on.He clearly remembere
C87 — Radio Ghosts on Steel Tracks
C87 — Radio Ghosts on Steel TracksSeven stood still inside the dim carriage, eyes half-lowered as the cold vibration of the train structure hummed through his boots. The metal beneath him carried a low, restless thrum, like something breathing wrong under pressure.Outside, snow hammered the armored hull.Inside, tension was already leaking in.Chen Sixuan stood near the storage rack, her posture rigid, jaw slightly clenched. Not fear. Something more stubborn. Like frustration that had nowhere to go.She spoke first.“I don’t want to just hide behind this train anymore.”Her voice was steady, but Seven caught the edge underneath it. That sharp break in confidence that only showed after repeated survival pressure.Sha Sha blinked at her from the side, tilting her head.“You want to fight? Sister Chen, I’m not really good at teaching this stuff. I only know how to shoot. Like, point and pull the trigger
C86 — Silent Night Watch
C86 — Silent Night Watch Snow hit the train like static. Soft. Endless. A heavy iron beast sat dead still near the base of Daluo Mountain. No movement. No noise. Just cold metal swallowing the night. Inside, Seven stood at the window, eyes half-lowered, watching the dark like it owed him money. The “Infinity” wasn’t moving. Time had already chewed through the last two hours of daylight. Now it was night duty. Survival shift. Whatever name people liked to give sitting still and pretending the world outside wasn’t trying to kill you. He exhaled once. Slow. Controlled. Vrmm… the wind scraped the hull outside. Not peaceful. Never peaceful. Just waiting. --- Chen Sixuan moved through Carriage No. 1 with blankets in her arms. Careful steps. No wasted movement. KIKI lay bundled up, barely breathing, buried under layers like she was being buried on purpose. Chen added another blanket. Adjusted it. Checked again. Then she turned toward the back carriage. The Building was there.
C85: Broken Signal
C85: Broken SignalThe air felt wrong.Not silent. Not loud. Just… distorted, like reality itself had been bent and forgotten how to snap back.Seven stood inside the black prison, eyes tracking every micro movement.No panic. No hesitation.Just calculation.In front of him, the small girl spoke again, voice thin.“They are just annoying guys…” the four year old KIKI whispered, one hand pressing lightly against her chest, “But En Qi here hurts.”Seven’s gaze sharpened.Chest pain. Emotional anchor response. Memory bleed.Something was wrong with her timeline stability.Before he could respond, she turned.Walked away.Straight toward the iron bars where the older KIKI stood.Click.Her small hands moved fast.She grabbed the pistol from the older version’s grip.Seven’s eyes narrowed instantly.“Bad timing,” he muttered.
C84 — Fallen Echo
C84 — Fallen EchoSeven didn’t blink when the prison screen flickered.Click.The static tore open like a wound.A hallway appeared.Cold. Narrow. Dead quiet.Seven’s eyes tracked it instantly.No panic. No shock. Just analysis.‘Scenario feed. Memory projection. Or something pretending to be one.’A little girl sat on a bench.Three or four years old.Small frame. Knees tucked in.A faded teddy bear clutched in both hands.The toy was old. Repaired. Cleaned too carefully, like someone had tried to erase time itself from its seams.Seven narrowed his eyes.‘Too clean for an orphanage item. Someone kept fixing it.’The girl’s head was lowered.Not sleeping.Waiting.Like she’d been told not to move until the world remembered her existence.Footsteps echoed off-screen.Inside a nearby office, the do
C83 — Prison of Silence
C83 — Prison of SilenceThe air hit Seven first.Rot. Damp metal. Something old enough to have died twice.Click… click… click… a faint ringing crawled through his skull like broken glass shaking inside a tin box.Seven blinked once. Slow. Controlled.His vision swam in and out of focus. Darkness pressed in from every direction like a sealed lid. Not natural night. Something tighter. Something built.A prison.He didn’t move immediately. He listened first. Breathing. Distance. Echo.Nothing useful.Only that smell. Thick enough to taste.Seven finally shifted his weight. Chains? No. No restraints. Just a cold floor under his palms. Stone or metal, hard to tell. Moisture clung to his skin the moment he touched it.“Where am I…”His voice came out rough, like it had been dragged through sandpaper.He paused again. Waited for reaction.None.Good.<
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