Kai kept his hood low as he moved through the side streets of Zone Alpha, the buzz of distant drones overhead matching the static hum of public screens. One caught his eye—a tall display pole flashing the Channel Concord logo in overly-saturated blue and white. He paused beneath the flickering screen as it blared another polished lie.
---
CHANNEL CONCORD NEWS BROADCAST
"STABILITY RESTORED: DEAD ZONE VICTORY"
"Good evening, citizens of Zone Alpha! This is Mara Lin of Channel Concord, with a recap of one of the greatest operations since the Rift Era began. The GRARC forces, alongside elite Resonants from the Black Omen initiative, have successfully contained and neutralized the threat at Research Site Eleven — a once-volatile Dead Zone now officially declared safe!
Sources confirm zero casualties and complete rift sealing under the expert leadership of Commander Xae. Civilian safety protocols were flawlessly executed. Thanks to Sovereign's omniscient coordination and the Obsidian Roundtable's swift response, humanity claims another triumph in the ongoing fight against destabilization.
Citizens are encouraged to resume normal activity and remember: Resonance is not just power — it is duty, order, and unity."
---
Kai scoffed, kicking a loose pebble into the gutter. "Tch. What a joke."
He turned away from the screen, pulling his hood tighter as he wandered toward a small café tucked between two abandoned storefronts. The neon sign above the door sputtered and blinked: "Juno's Roast."
Inside, the place was mostly empty—only two tables were occupied. The air smelled of burnt espresso and old wood. A man stood behind the counter, cleaning a cracked cup with more hope than success. Mid-forties, broad-shouldered, with creases of tired years under his eyes. He glanced up as Kai approached.
"Afternoon, kid. Usual?"
Kai nodded. "Yeah. Black. No cream. No sugar. Bitter as the world."
The man gave a small chuckle and got to work behind the counter.
Kai leaned on the counter, eyes trailing across the peeling wallpaper and crooked pictures of better days. "Still open, huh?"
"Barely." The owner sighed, setting the cup down with a soft clink. "Rent's gone up again. GRARC won't lift the blockade around Sector Nine, so no morning crowds. No suppliers. No hope." He snorted. "Thinking of selling. If anyone'll buy."
Kai took a sip of his drink, lips twitching. "I'd take over if I had the money."
"You?" The man laughed. "You look like you'd burn the beans out of spite."
"Probably," Kai admitted. "But I'd make the misery marketable."
The man gave a dry smile, leaning on the counter beside him. "Misery's the only thing selling these days."
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Kai finished his drink and stood, placing the credits on the counter with a metallic clack.
"Hey," the man called as Kai turned to go, "whatever you're doing out there… stay alive."
Kai didn't respond. He just lifted his hand in a vague wave and stepped back into the noise of Zone Alpha.
---
By the time he reached Nynxreach, the day had dimmed, shadows lengthening as students gathered in the marble-clad east wing for class. The room echoed with quiet murmurs and the rhythmic hum of Sovereign's ceiling projectors. The instructor — a silver-haired Resonant draped in shifting blue robes — stood at the front, their voice calm and firm.
"Today," they began, "we discuss Soulprints. The foundation of all resonance."
A map appeared behind them — not of land or body, but something liminal: symbols swirling through endless space, orbiting like planets around a central axis.
"A Soulprint," the professor continued, "is your soul — systemized. Sovereign translates it into a stable pocket dimension, unique to you alone. When you resonate, your boons, burdens, and soul items are stored there."
Kai's head tilted, attention sharpening.
"Entering your Soulprint is a spiritual act. Your physical body remains here, but your consciousness and spirit step inward. This dimension is reactive — shaped by you, your experiences, and your evolution."
The professor flicked their fingers. Another image bloomed: glowing orbs inside skeletal remains.
"These are Soulgems and Demoncores. When demons are slain, especially higher ones, remnants of their essence can condense into physical anchors. These, when absorbed, can strengthen your Soulprint — sometimes expanding its boundaries or unlocking deeper resonance pathways."
Kai frowned slightly. So the corpses left behind after a fight… weren't just bodies. They were potential.
"Sovereign occasionally deposits artifacts in Soulprints. Some are rewards. Others… trials. And when someone dies, their Soulprint lingers for two to three days. In that window, soul items can be retrieved — assuming you're brave enough to enter."
Kai's eyes narrowed.
Someone raised a hand. "Professor, what happens if we enter a dead person's Soulprint?"
"Nothing good," the instructor said grimly. "You risk inheriting their burdens. Or worse—being trapped in their narrative echo. Soulprints aren't just libraries. They're living stories. And some stories aren't meant to be read."
The class ended with soft murmurs and the rustle of notes being stored. Kai remained seated, staring at the projection long after it vanished.
A soul made visible. A system you could explore. A world made from you.
He left the classroom quietly, climbing to the academy's rooftop. It was windy and quiet there — the sky overhead muted by smog, city lights flickering like ground stars. He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and whispered Velnix's name.
Then he let go.
Preparing to enter his soulprint.