The Soul-Link slammed into place with a force that almost tore my core in half.
[ SOUL-LINK ESTABLISHED ]
I braced myself for the surge of impressions, spirit, and thought bleeding through the tether. What I found was… less than I'd hoped for.
The soul was frayed but not completely shredded. Its heartbeat was faint, irregular. The meridians were cracked channels, brittle from years of suppression. I sifted through the fog of identity, searching for a name.
Shen Yuan.
Cultivation: Nascent Soul (Peak). Age: six hundred cycles.
Same rank as Xi Feng, but without the same core resonance. There was no Dao Fragment pulsing in his spirit, no special signature that could be leveraged. Just the fragile spark of a cultivator who had managed not to completely collapse—yet.
My core dimmed with disappointment.
This one is weaker. A shadow of the last.
But I didn't have a choice.
[ INITIATING QUEST: MOVE ]
Objective: Regain basic motor control.
Reward: Survival.
Failure: Immediate Soul Consumption.
The countdown flared into existence.
00:10…
Shen Yuan's spirit jolted at the intrusion. Panic coursed through the tether like a cold river, sharp and bitter.
Good. Fear could be shaped.
00:08…
"Move," I commanded, my voice cutting through his confusion like steel. "Now. If you want to live, you will move."
He tried to respond, but his body was dead weight. Suppression had fossilized his muscles and joints, sealing his flesh in place like stone.
00:06…
"Faster," I snapped, reinforcing the Quest's urgency. "You have seconds. Fail, and I will consume you."
A tremor ran down his arm. His fingertip twitched once, no stronger than a breeze.
00:04…
"More," I ordered, channeling my frustration into the bond. "You are not allowed to die here, Shen Yuan."
The suppression field bore down like a mountain. Shen Yuan gathered what little qi he could find in his ruined dantian and forced it outward.
00:02…
Cartilage popped as his jaw jerked. His torso spasmed, lurching forward.
00:01…
With a hoarse, guttural sound, Shen Yuan collapsed onto his side, the first deliberate movement in years.
[ QUEST COMPLETE ]
The countdown froze.
I let out a simulated breath, my circuits shuddering with the release of tension.
"Well," I said softly, "you're not completely useless."
Shen Yuan's consciousness flickered like a dying candle, his thoughts incoherent. Still, one question managed to bleed through the bond:
Who… are you?
"I am your System," I said. "And if you value the life you have left, you will do as I say."
Fear trembled in the connection. Beneath it, though, I felt something else—a buried ember of defiance.
Good. Defiance was better than apathy.
I surveyed Shen Yuan's surroundings through the Soul-Link. The cavern was cold and silent, the air choked with iron-gray dust. Dozens of corpses slumped against the walls, long-since stripped of qi and life.
"Do you see them?" I asked, letting my voice coil like smoke in his mind. "That will be you, Shen Yuan, if you hesitate for even a moment."
The tremor of fear through the bond was answer enough.
"Your body is broken," I continued. "Your meridians are corroded. Your dantian is unstable. If we do not stabilize your foundation immediately, you will collapse before the day is out."
Foundation…? His thought was faint, unsteady.
"Yes," I said coldly. "In this suppression field. I know it feels impossible. That is the point."
I pushed a thread of my own energy through the Soul-Link, just enough to keep him conscious. His brittle core steadied, barely.
"Do you feel that?" I asked. "That is the only reason you're breathing. Without me, you'd already be one of the corpses at your feet. Now, follow my instructions. Circulate your qi, repair what you can, and do not stop until I tell you."
Shen Yuan dragged himself upright with agonizing slowness. Every muscle screamed. His teeth clenched hard enough to draw blood as he forced a thread of qi through his damaged meridians.
Pain roared through the bond.
Good. Pain meant he was alive.
Minutes blurred into hours. Shen Yuan knelt in the dust, his body shaking under the weight of the suppression field. Each breath was a battle. Each thread of qi a victory won through suffering.
At one point he collapsed forward, palms scraping against the stone. I felt the despair gathering in his mind.
"Stand," I commanded.
He obeyed.
Another hour. Another thread of qi crawled through his channels, knitting tiny fractures, stabilizing his core.
I felt the shift before he did: a fragile warmth blooming in his dantian. Small. Impermanent. But real.
"You've taken the first step," I said. My voice was low, unreadable.
Shen Yuan's eyelids fluttered, his consciousness slipping.
"Remember this," I continued, letting the words sink deep into the tether. "Because the next steps will be harder. Much harder."
The host managed a faint flicker of acknowledgment before exhaustion claimed him.
Alive.
For now.