--The Silent Pulse of Dystopia
Shawn jolted awake to the sound of rain tapping against his window.
For a moment, he couldn't tell if the thunder outside was real—or still echoing from the explosion in his dreams.
No. Not dreams,but memories.
It had been three days since the schoolyard incident.
Three days since Dan's fire erupted, since Judy summoned voices that weren't hers, and since the Thunder Core had fully awakened in his hand.
And yet, here he was—in his bedroom, staring through rain-washed glass as if the world hadn't tilted off its axis.
The exams were over. That much, at least, was still true.
He stretched and checked the clock. 10:37 AM.
His grandfather had already gone for his morning walk. The house, as always, felt too quiet in his absence.
After a quick shower and a barely touched breakfast, Shawn returned to his desk.
The Thunder Core lay exactly where he'd left it—no longer dormant, but humming faintly.
He picked it up. The jade-like meteorite was warm, alive.
Three days ago, it had roared to life in response to fire, water, and chaos.
Now, it simply waited.
Shawn closed his eyes and activated his Soul Energy, sending a thought toward Kepra.
"kyng, you there?"
The reply came almost immediately—kyng's voice clipped and distant, like it echoed through layers of interference.
"Shawn. Exams done? I'm in a meeting, but I'll be free in an hour. If you're curious, you could explore Sunzen's streets—never properly seen them, have you?"
Shawn exhaled slowly. The Core still worked.
But new questions gnawed at him:
Where had Dan and Judy gotten their Cores?
Why had their abilities felt so... rehearsed?
And were those even real Cores at all?
Shaking off the unease, he turned toward the window.
Outside, beyond the silver curtain of rain, Sunzen awaited—the city his grandfather once described in glowing terms:
A metropolis of gleaming towers and lush gardens beneath a perpetually colorful sky.
The air rippled, and suddenly—
One moment, Shawn stood in his cluttered bedroom; the next, he was on a wide, empty boulevard.
But this wasn't the Sunzen he'd imagined.Had the old man lied, or had Sunzen changed?
No trees.
No flowers.
Only steel and synthetic stone stretching endlessly under a sky choked with gray clouds.
A few autonomous vehicles glided past, engines whisper-quiet.
Cleaning bots scuttled along the sidewalks, brushing away invisible dust.
The few humans he saw moved like shadows—faces lit by glowing screens, expressions blank, steps eerily synchronized.
Where's the vibrancy? The life?
He wandered deeper into the city, passing storefronts run by automated vendors and self-service diners.
No laughter.
No conversation.
Only the occasional chime of a transaction being processed.
In the heart of the financial district, a towering building loomed—its façade gilded, its interior vast and echoing.
Through the glass, Shawn saw rows of desks. Machines worked in silence: processing data, executing trades, managing empires.
No humans in sight.
A cold realization settled in his chest.
They've been replaced.
This was a world where humanity had traded its technology for efficiency—where wealth and control were the last gods left to worship.
Shawn's fingers curled into fists.
This wasn't progress.
This was decay.
And then—
A pulse surged through the Thunder Core.
"Shawn. Come to the Monolithic Palace. Now."
Kyng's office was a sanctuary of warmth compared to the city outside.
Shelves lined with ancient tomes, a fireplace crackling despite the absence of natural wood—small comforts in a world that had long forgotten them.
The man himself sat behind an ornate desk, his sharp features softened only slightly by concern.
"You look troubled," he said, pouring tea into a delicate porcelain cup. "Exams didn't go well?"
Shawn accepted the tea but didn't drink.
"They were fine. But something else happened."
He recounted the moment Dan and Judy had unveiled their blazing Cores—necklaces pulsing with unmistakable power, fully activated. At that very moment, his own Thunder Core had gone silent.
Kyng's fingers froze around his cup.
"Those pendants… they're not from our system," he said quietly, his voice edged with something Shawn couldn't name. "And their behavior—it's unnatural."
He looked up, eyes sharp beneath furrowed brows. "Cores don't awaken like that. Not without a catalyst, and certainly not without cost. Dan and Judy didn't just channel their elements—they overrode them. It's as if the Cores themselves were reacting to something… foreign."
Shawn frowned. "You mean they were forced open?"
Kyng nodded slowly. "More like hijacked."
He leaned back, gaze distant. "Which leads me to believe—those pendants aren't just conduits. They're vessels. And someone—or something—is using them as a backdoor."
"That's not all." Shawn hesitated, and glanced out the window, at the hollow city sprawled beneath them. "This place… it's not what I expected."
Mr. King's pupils contracted briefly.
"Ah." He set his cup down with deliberate care. "You saw the truth of Sunzen."
"Is this what Earth becomes?" Shawn's voice was barely above a whisper. "A world where people don't live—they just… exist?"
Kyng exhaled slowly. "If nothing changes? Yes. This is the path we're on."
Shawn's grip on the Thunder Core tightened. "And AGI-ST—they want this?"
For the first time, Kyng looked truly weary. He reached into a drawer and withdrew a slim tablet. On its screen, an article glowed ominously:
"AGI-ST MISSION: ARCHITECTS OF THE NEW ORDER."
Before Shawn could read further, Kyng leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Shawn. What about Chairman Da?"
Shawn nodded. "We've located two more Cores—the Heaven Core and the Mountain Core. Elder Lee and Kent have them. And we've reconnected with the Earth Meta Origin Society. They're preparing to elect a new Grand Hierophant to negotiate directly with Chairman Da."
Kyng's teacup clinked as he set it down, his usual composure slipping.
"Two more? That means…"
"Only five left," Shawn confirmed.
A rare smile tugged at Kyng's lips. "Then there's still hope."
ust then, Shawn's phone buzzed—three sharp pulses. A priority alert.
Kent's name flashed across the screen.
"Shawn," came Kent's voice, low and urgent. "June 12th. Sunzen. There's a meeting you need to attend."
Sunzen again. The Earth-side Sunzen.
A meeting.
About what?
About the Cores? About AGI-ST? About everything?
Shawn's jaw tightened. He was done watching. Done wondering.
This time, he would face the truth—whatever it was.
A flicker on the screen caught his eye: a string of numbers burned bright and cold:
2031.07.01 | 21D | 06:19:57
Twenty-one days left.
But something had already shifted.
Kent's message wasn't just a summons.
It was the beginning of the endgame.