In the dying light of a blue dwarf sun, Planet Duokai spun like a forgotten pebble among the shattered rocks of the Void Rim. It wasn't even listed on most star maps anymore. If it was, it was usually under names like Dust Heap Z-17 or Restricted Zone: Obsidian Empire Mining Rights.
And yet, under this ignoble sky, a boy wielded a pickaxe like he was trying to split the heavens.
"Dammit—if I swing any harder, I'll end up digging to the center of the planet," Li Tianxuan muttered, wiping a streak of silvery dust off his face. "Then again, maybe I'll find something interesting down there. Like a pizza. Or maybe the will to live."
The mine shaft groaned as another tremor shook the walls. That was the third quake today. Either the planet was unstable, or the universe really hated miners.
More likely both.
Tianxuan was seventeen, though he looked younger thanks to a lifetime of surviving off ration bars, recycled water, and whatever fungus he could convince the locals not to step on. His black hair was matted with dust, and his eyes—once bright as twin stars—now reflected the dull gray of survival.
"Tianxuan! You done yet?" a nasal voice called down from the upper tunnel. It was Old Wu, the foreman and local ambassador of all things annoying. "If you break another drill, I'm docking your pay again!"
"Pay? You mean the five credits that won't even buy a fake egg?" Tianxuan shouted back. "Keep it! I'll chew on rocks!"
"That's the spirit!" Wu replied with a laugh. "Rock stew is the local delicacy. We serve it with imaginary sauce."
Tianxuan sighed, turning back to the crystal-veined wall. This was the Celestial Seam, the only place on Duokai where remnants of ancient Dao-tech ore still surfaced. Most miners saw it as superstition—nothing but old stories from the days before the Heavenly Collapse War. But Tianxuan... he felt something deeper.
As he struck the wall again, a ripple of energy pulsed beneath the surface.
His pickaxe shattered.
"Of course," he muttered. "Tool number eight this week. I'm gonna start naming them before they die. This one'll be Pickaxe Zhang. A loyal friend."
But then the wall began to glow.
A radiant glyph, older than any language spoken in the current age, bloomed across the surface like a living constellation. Tianxuan's heart skipped.
"Uh... Wu? You might want to call in... a priest. Or maybe a spaceship. Or both."
The wall cracked open with a sound like a thousand glass bells shattering at once. And behind it, floating in a cocoon of swirling energy, was a relic. Not just any relic—this one pulsed with the resonance of the stars themselves. It was a silver heart-shaped core, with runes orbiting it like moons.
Tianxuan didn't know much about relics. Only that they were usually fought over by people who could destroy planets with a bad mood.
So, naturally, he touched it.
The explosion wasn't loud.
It was cosmic.
Tianxuan found himself suspended in a sea of stars. Time slowed. A voice echoed in his mind—ancient, feminine, powerful.
"...Initiating Dao Star Codex Protocol. User confirmed: Bloodline match. Li clan designation—Celestial tier. Status: Lost heir detected."
"Wait, what? Heir? I don't even own socks."
The voice continued, unbothered. "Welcome, Child of Starlight. The Dao Star Codex awakens within you. Prepare for neural calibration. Also, duck."
"Duck?"
A beam of golden light blasted from the relic and hit his forehead.
He screamed as galaxies spun in his mind. Visions of star-forged warriors, dragon-clad emperors, and celestial battles raged behind his eyelids. He felt his meridians burning, cracking, then reforming as stellar veins. It hurt worse than eating expired space rations.
Then—nothing.
He awoke several hours later with a headache big enough to house a moon.
Old Wu stood nearby with a stick. "You alive? Or should I start dividing your ration cards?"
"I think I saw the universe," Tianxuan groaned. "It told me I have a destiny."
"Well, tell your destiny to get back to work."
A Week Later
Planet Duokai was no longer peaceful. Not that it ever was, but now it was noticeably unpeaceful.
Ships descended. Fast, sleek, deadly ones marked with the insignia of the Lightstream Pirates—one of the deadliest rogue fleets in the quadrant. And behind them, larger, angular cruisers bearing the crimson banners of the Obsidian Empire.
"Why are both space criminals and government murder fleets showing up at once?" Tianxuan asked as he grabbed his emergency go-bag (which mostly contained socks and spicy noodles).
He didn't need to guess.
They were here for the relic. And him.
"Li Tianxuan," blared a voice across the sky, amplified through a dreadnought's thunder-horn. "By order of the Empire and the Code of Ancient Claims, surrender the Celestial Heart Core. Or die."
"Wow. No please? No 'may we kindly vaporize you' first?"
He sprinted through the mining tunnels as the first energy blasts rained from the sky. The colony erupted in screams and chaos. Explosions tore through the air. A pirate mech crashed near the ore refinery, and someone actually yelled, "I just cleaned that!"
Tianxuan ducked into a side shaft—and nearly collided with a cloaked figure.
"...You the boy who touched the relic?" the man asked, voice flat, face hidden.
"Do I owe you money?"
"Even worse. You owe me your life."
The man removed his hood, revealing a pale face with an emotionless gaze. His left eye was artificial, glowing faintly red. His right eye looked like it hadn't blinked in years.
"Name's Zhao Wuming. I'm here to get you off this rock."
"Who sent you?"
"Your dead ancestors. Maybe. Also, my captain said if I left without you, I'd be doing asteroid patrol for the next decade."
"Is that worse than dying?"
"Depends. Are you afraid of boredom?"
They escaped through an old smuggler's tunnel beneath the mines, leading to a rusted hangar where a battered starcraft waited—an ugly thing with more patches than hull.
"Welcome aboard the Broken Dream."
"Seriously? That's the name?"
"Would you prefer Hopeful Dawn or Destiny's Teardrop?"
"...Actually yeah."
"Too bad. Get in."
As the Broken Dream shot into the stars, dodging cannon fire and pirate drones, Tianxuan looked back at the only home he'd known.
"I'll miss the silence. The toxic rain. The mutated lizards that scream at you in your sleep."
Zhao Wuming grunted. "You're weird. You'll fit right in."
"With who?"
"The crew. We've got a hacker who thinks she's a chef, an engineer with nine fingers—used to be ten, but he gambled one—and a sentient coffee machine named Greg."
Tianxuan blinked. "Greg?"
"He's judgmental. Don't spill anything."
As the stars streaked by, the relic pulsed gently in Tianxuan's chest.
Somewhere deep within the Dao Star Codex, a new path had begun. The stars watched. The heavens stirred.
And the universe, it seemed, was finally paying attention.