Ashwalker

The interior gates of Carold groaned open with a deep, industrial hum, and Kaiell stepped fully into the fortress built between worlds.

A low tremor passed through the metal beneath his boots.

Neorite.

Forged from Void-fused alloys and refined Viora crystal, it was the only known metal that didn't decay in Rift exposure. Black with hints of violet shimmer, it radiated a subtle pulse—like a heartbeat beneath every wall. Every inch of the base, from floor plating to bulkhead locks, was carved from it.

And it had to be.

Because the Void pressed in from every side.

Above them, a domed Neorite ceiling shimmered with containment runes. Around them, the walls hummed with thousands of protective conduits. Carold wasn't just hidden inside a mountain—it was the mountain. Hollowed out. Reinforced. Buried deep to withstand Void incursions and atmospheric collapse.

But above it all—the Shield.

Projected from twin relay towers on either end of the ridge, the shield field shimmered like glass dipped in blue fire. It stretched over the base like a second sky, strong enough to deflect Voidling charges, temperature spikes, and even Void-pulse bombardment. The shield only faltered once every six hours—for one minute—during generator rotations.

That was why the railguns were prepped.

Twin vertical cannons, each three stories tall, were locked to fire at anything that moved during that sixty-second interval. Their barrels were carved from fused Neorite and ionized Viora crystal. No human could lift the shells.

They weren't designed to warn.

They were designed to end.

Inside the base, the halls were wide and circular, lit by soft blue strips that adjusted to emotional vitals. Drones passed silently—some armed, some medical, most maintenance. Each was tagged with Union-Kruger integration protocol, running on semi-sentient learning cores.

Kaiell barely saw any humans.

Not because they weren't there—but because most of them were either in the depths, on assignments… or in cryo-repair.

A voice chimed over the intercom:

"New arrival — Kaiell, designation Kruger-VX-Σ."

His data flicked into place across holo-terminals.

An armored admin drone rolled to his side. "You've been certified for Class-Red Clearance," it said in a mechanical voice. "Documenting genetic vX5 status, Ibex interface, and confirmed Void resilience."

A scanner swept over his forearm. His Viora interface responded with a flash.

[Classification Confirmed: Rift-Compatible][Base Assignment: Carold-Underground Sector B-7][Status: Active Operator]

Kaiell said nothing. He just followed the path ahead.

Sector B-7 – Living Quarters

His assigned room was deep in the mountain, eight levels down from surface, accessible only via magnetic lift cores locked to his genetic ID.

When the door slid open, he stepped inside and blinked.

The room was quiet, but not lifeless.

Walls of matte-black Neorite, lined with stabilization nodes and a single screen that displayed a slow, drifting satellite feed of the ocean-sky above. A small cot. A recharge station for armor. And a narrow locker containing his gear.

Nightfell was already inside—placed on its rack, polished.

Kaiell walked up to it and rested his palm on the blade.

It thrummed in response.

The door behind him closed with a soft hiss.

He sat.

For a long moment, he didn't move.

Not from fatigue. Not from fear.

But from the weight of it.

This was no longer training. This was no longer Suela. This wasn't about proving himself, or surviving exams, or unlocking Viora in a frozen dome. This was the threshold between existence and dissolution. Between structure and chaos. And he had stepped through willingly.

He looked down at his hands.

They were still trembling faintly from the Rift-crossing.

Even now, reality didn't feel entirely… aligned. Objects shimmered slightly if stared at too long. His breath left faint trails in the air, even though the room was warm.

And still—there was no fear in his chest.

Just a calm storm.

A sense that something vast had begun.

A tone chimed at his door.

"Enter," Kaiell called.

A delivery drone entered, placing a wrapped ration kit and a datapad on his desk.

He tapped the pad.

[BRIEFING PENDING – 03:00 HOURS]

Assigned Squad: VX-Special Strike Cell Alpha

Commander: Redacted until Arrival

Personnel: Five active members + support AI

He leaned back against the wall, eyes half-closed.

Somewhere above, railguns hummed. Shields flickered. Voices echoed faintly through the ventilation—command codes, Rift reports, medical checks.

But here, in this moment, Kaiell was still.

Soon, he'd be back with Joran.

Soon, he'd fight alongside Krugers born of the same fracture in the genome as him.

Soon, the Void would scream—and someone would scream back.

And this time, he'd be ready.