The orphanage was unusually quiet the next morning.
No shouting.
No footsteps racing through the halls.
No sound of Ethan arguing with Marcos over something completely pointless.
The battle at the Multiversal Core had drained everyone far more than any of them wanted to admit. Downstairs, the younger kids were still sound asleep, blissfully unaware of how close the realm had come to collapsing. Up in the main living quarters, the silence was heavy, broken only by the faint creak of old wooden floorboards.
Tae sat alone on the edge of the cot in the makeshift infirmary, his left arm resting limp against his knee.
He slowly rotated his shoulder.
No pain.
No stiffness.
No lingering numbness.
Nothing.
His fingers flexed and closed normally.
Tae frowned, staring at his palm. Yesterday, Nox had pinned him to the cold stone floor, rendering his entire arm dead without ever laying a single finger on him. It had felt like a mountain was resting on his chest.
Now, there wasn't even a bruise.
Except for one thing.
Tae unbuttoned the top of his collar, pulling the fabric aside. A small black mark rested on the pale skin just beneath his left collarbone.
Tae stared at it in the small mirror resting on the side table.
It wasn't a scar.
It wasn't a burn.
It looked more like a delicate, thin symbol drawn directly beneath his skin—a sharp, angular geometric line that seemed to faint and deepen with every breath he took.
He reached his right hand toward it.
"Don't."
Tae paused, looking up toward the doorway.
Joseph stood in the frame, leaning against the doorpost with his tablet tucked under his arm, his hair messy and his glasses resting crooked on the bridge of his nose. He looked like he hadn't slept a single minute all night.
Tae lowered his hand. "You've been standing there?"
"For about thirty seconds," Joseph said, stepping into the room and pulling a folding chair over to the side of the bed. "Let me see it."
Tae pulled his collar further aside, exposing his shoulder and upper chest.
Joseph's expression immediately shifted from tired detachment to sharp focus. He brought the tablet closer, activating the short-range biometric scanner. A thin band of blue light swept down Tae's neck and chest.
The scanner beeped once.
No abnormal cellular energy detected.
Joseph frowned. He adjusted the gain on the spectral sensors, running a localized mana pulse directly over the mark.
The blue light flickered. Nothing happened.
"That's impossible," Joseph muttered under his breath.
Tae raised an eyebrow. "You said that yesterday."
"I'm aware." Joseph adjusted his glasses with two fingers, his brow furrowing as he changed the scanning frequency from basic physical diagnostics to deep-core soul resonance.
The tablet's screen flickered violently. The light flared bright green, then went completely black.
Joseph froze.
"What?" Tae asked, leaning slightly forward. "What happened?"
Joseph didn't answer right away. He tapped the glass hard, clearing the error log, and restarted the diagnostic trace from scratch.
This time, the screen booted up normally, displaying a detailed wireframe projection of Tae's internal biology. His circulatory system pulsed in steady red lines. His lungs expanded and contracted. His internal mana core burned like a bright, golden star right at his center.
Everything appeared exactly as it should.
Except for one tiny, dark shape.
The visible mark on Tae's collarbone wasn't actually embedded in his flesh; it was merely a physical manifestation—a shadow projected onto his skin from something far deeper inside.
The real phenomenon was floating directly beside Tae's core, wrapped around the outer perimeter of his golden mana like a black thread.
Joseph stared at the screen, his breath catching in his throat. "Tae..."
"What is it, Joseph?"
"That mark isn't on your skin."
Tae's expression hardened, his golden lotus eyes narrowing. "Then where is it?"
Joseph slowly looked up from the screen, meeting Tae's gaze. "Inside your core."
A heavy silence settled over the small room. Outside, the morning wind whistled softly against the window glass.
Tae looked down at his own chest, staring at the symbol resting beneath his skin. "Can you get rid of it?"
Joseph hesitated, tapping the side of his tablet, trying to isolate the thread's energy signature. "I don't know."
Tae's jaw tightened. "You don't know?"
"I've never seen an energy signature structured like this," Joseph said, his voice dropping into a tense whisper. "It doesn't have a weight class. It isn't emitting any curse energy, nor is it corrupting your mana channels. It's just... sitting there."
Joseph zoomed in on the scan, magnifying the image five times over.
The black mark wasn't stationary. It was shifting—barely noticeable at first glance, but unmistakably moving in a slow, rhythmic pulse.
Like something breathing.
Joseph's face drained of color. "It's responding to your heartbeat."
Tae immediately pushed himself off the bed, standing up as his aura flickered gold for a fraction of a second. "Run a high-frequency purge. Use your core interface and pull it out."
"I said I don't know if I can!" Joseph snapped, reaching out and grabbing Tae's wrist before Tae could press his own hand against the mark. "And don't touch it!"
Tae glared down at Joseph's grip. "Why?"
"Because I don't know what happens if you interfere with it," Joseph said sternly. "If this thing is anchored directly to your core wall, forcing a mana surge right now could rupture your internal channels. We don't know what Nox did to you."
Tae stared back down at the reflection in the mirror.
Yesterday, Nox had spoken to him with terrifying familiarity. He had called Tae by his name—not his title, not his alias, but Tae. He had known details that no enemy, no spy, and no Genesis Extinction file could ever have possessed.
The old hoodie.
The two bunk beds.
The little green watch on the nightstand.
Things from before Tae ever unlocked his core. Before the fights. Before the Multiversal Core. Before the Prodigies existed.
Tae slowly clenched his right hand into a tight fist, his knuckles turning white.
"Joseph."
"Yeah?"
"How long do you think he's been watching me?"
Joseph looked down at his tablet, then back at Tae. He opened his mouth to offer an analytical response, but the words caught in his throat.
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
And somehow, that absolute uncertainty was far worse than any threat they had ever faced.
The door to the infirmary creaked open further, interrupting the suffocating quiet.
Kd leaned against the frame, holding a steaming mug of black tea in one hand. His shirt collar was loose, and the moment he stepped into the light, both Tae and Joseph looked over.
The dark, permanent veins from yesterday hadn't faded.
In fact, they had crept further up. The thick, ink-black lines were now crawling up the right side of Kd's neck, tracing along his jawline like jagged, dark roots embedded beneath his skin. The cold, faint aura of the Underworld still clung softly to his hair, refusing to completely disperse.
Kd took a slow sip from his mug, glancing between Tae's exposed chest and Joseph's pale face.
"Damn," Kd said, his voice raspy and dry. "You guys look like you just saw a ghost. Again."
"Kd," Joseph said, immediately stepping toward him with the scanner tablet raised. "Sit down. I need to run a full diagnostic on your neck."
Kd waved his hand dismissively, stepping back into the hall. "I'm fine, bro. It's just a little leftover draft from the grave. Gives me character."
"It's crawling up your jawline, Kd!" Joseph insisted, his tone sharp. "You pulled absolute authority over the Underworld yesterday to force back the Prime Clone. That kind of power leaves a toll on a mortal body."
Kd smirked, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, though his left hand was trembling uncontrollably underneath his mug as he tried to hold it steady. "Good. Was starting to think Tae caught all the attention with his new neck tattoo."
"It's not a tattoo," Tae said, walking over and looking closely at the dark veins on Kd's neck. "Does it hurt?"
"Only when I breathe," Kd joked weakly, shaking his head. "Nah, it just feels cold. Like I'm wearing an ice collar."
Joseph brought the tablet up, sweeping the blue diagnostic beam across Kd's throat, mapping the black vein pattern alongside Tae's internal scan. Two distinct wireframe models appeared side-by-side on the glass screen.
Joseph paused, staring at the split-screen comparison.
"They're completely different," Joseph noted, his voice calm again as his analytical mind took over.
Kd glanced over at the screen. "See? Told you. My dark pattern is way cooler than his tiny little squiggle."
"I'm serious, Kd," Joseph said, tapping the display. "Your condition is a direct physical backlash from drawing upon the Underworld's necrotic core. It's a mana-channel stain. It's dangerous, but it follows known dimensional laws. But Tae's..." Joseph glanced at Tae's collarbone. "...Tae's mark isn't mana. It's an external spatial tether."
Tae looked at Joseph. "So they aren't connected?"
"They aren't the same phenomenon at all," Joseph clarified, looking between both of them. "Kd's pattern is a cost he paid for using his own power. Your mark was placed on you by someone else. But they do have one thing in common."
Tae's eyes narrowed. "What?"
Joseph stared down at the blinking readings on his tablet.
"Both appeared after contact with forces we don't understand."
Kd's smirk slowly faded. He took another sip of his tea, looking down the dark hallway toward the stairs. "Man... we really kicked a hive down at that Core, didn't we?"
"Come on," Tae said, buttoning his collar back up over the mark. "The others are waiting in the planning room."
The Planning Room
An hour later, the entire team was gathered around the heavy oak table in the upper room.
The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the dusty windowpanes, casting long shadows across the tactical maps spread over the wood.
Ethan slammed both hands hard against the edge of the table, making the tactical map flicker.
"We should go after them right now!" Ethan barked, his eyes flashing with golden energy. "We sit here doing diagnostic scans while Karai and those hooded freaks are out there setting up their next move!"
Diego shook his head calmly from across the table, his arms folded across his chest. "And do what, Ethan? Walk blindly into another dimension without a lead?"
"Find Karai!" Ethan argued, turning on him. "Track the spatial energy from that rift! We have Joseph's systems, don't we?"
"And then?" Diego asked, his voice steady, unyielding. "What happens when we find her? Did you forget what happened down there? We barely held our ground against one Prime Clone and a kid who didn't even draw a weapon."
Ethan paused, his jaw working as he tried to find a counter argument, but he couldn't. He gritted his teeth, glaring at the center map. "So we just do nothing?"
Marcos let out a slow, tired sigh, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. "Brilliant strategy, Ethan. Let's sprint directly into the middle of an enemy strongpoint while half our team is literally wrapped in bandages and Kd looks like he's slowly turning into a zombie."
"Shut up, Marcos!" Ethan snapped. "You got a better idea?"
"Yeah," Marcos replied, tilting his head forward with a surprisingly serious look in his eyes. "It's called 'not walking into a trap.' We don't even know what that silver-haired kid did to Tae yesterday."
Rashad nodded from the side of the table, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. "He's right. Running out there blind right now is suicide."
Ethan looked around the room, meeting the eyes of Jax, Ayden, and Tae. "So we're just going to sit here in this old house and wait for them to come back?"
"No," Rashad replied smoothly, his eyes narrowing. "We're going to figure out what actually happened down there before we make our move."
Joseph stepped up to the head of the table, placing his tablet flat on the wood. He tapped the glass, and a three-dimensional holographic projection of the ruined Multiversal Core and the glowing Beacon erupted into the air above them.
"The Beacon wasn't an explosive device, and it wasn't designed to destroy the localized core," Joseph explained, zooming in on the glowing pillar of light. "The Prime Clone sacrificed his body to power the ignition sequence, but the energy didn't scatter laterally."
Diego leaned forward, examining the light strands. "Then where did the energy go?"
Joseph enlarged the projection, showing the beam tearing straight through the realm's atmospheric layers and shooting into a pitch-black void beyond their galaxy. "The signal traveled completely past our localized realm pockets. It bypassed every dimensional barrier we have mapped."
Rashad's eyes narrowed sharply. "How far?"
Joseph looked up, meeting Rashad's gaze. "Farther than anything our systems have ever tracked. It reached deep space—the upper cosmic sector."
The room went completely quiet.
Jax crossed his arms, his wide frame casting a shadow over the table. "So the Beacon was a distress signal?"
"Not a distress signal," Joseph corrected, zooming in on the precise coordinates where the beam terminated in the dark void. "It was a marker."
Tae's golden eyes narrowed. "Like a flare?"
"More like a beacon on a map," Joseph said quietly. "It broadcasted the exact spatial coordinates of our realm, our core's energy output, and our world's location directly to whoever was listening on the other side."
Marcos leaned forward, his casual demeanor completely gone now. "Meaning whoever was watching from the outside... knows exactly where we live now?"
Joseph hesitated for a moment before answering.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Ethan took a heavy breath, stepping back from the table and looking up toward the ceiling. "Then we need to move the kids."
Everyone turned to look at Ethan.
"The little ones downstairs don't know anything about what happened yesterday," Ethan said, his voice dropping into a rare, quiet tone of genuine concern. "They think we just went out for late-night training. They shouldn't have to carry this."
Tae looked up toward the ceiling. Through the thick floorboards, he could hear the faint, muffled sounds of small footsteps running through the hallway upstairs. The younger kids were awake, laughing and playing tag, completely oblivious to the cosmic target currently painted over their heads.
Tae's expression softened for a brief moment, remembering why they had fought so hard to secure this old building in the first place.
"We're not abandoning the orphanage," Tae said firmly.
Ethan looked at him, then gave a single, firm nod. "Then we protect it. We set up perimeter barriers today."
"Agreed," Diego added.
Rashad stepped up, pointing his finger toward the center of the holographic projection. "Protecting the base is fine, but we still have a massive variable standing in front of us."
Everyone looked at him.
"Nox," Rashad said simply. "We know almost nothing about him, how his power works, or why Karai was taking orders from him."
Joseph tapped his tablet, shifting the projection from the Beacon to the high-resolution frame capture of Nox holding the wooden puppet. "We don't know his combat style... but we know one thing."
Everyone watched Joseph intently.
"He knows Tae," Joseph said.
Silence blanketed the room once more. Tae sat motionless, staring at the holographic image of the silver-haired boy.
"And not just the Tae from our recent battles," Joseph added, turning the screen so everyone could see the magnified details on the wooden carving. "Look at the clothing carved onto the puppet."
Jax leaned in, his eyebrows pulling together. "That's... that's the dark hoodie Tae used to wear back when we first met at the old training grounds."
"Before the Prodigies," Joseph confirmed softly. "Before we ever fought Genesis Extinction. Before we even knew what core energy was."
Jax's jaw tightened. "How could some kid from deep space know what Tae was wearing three years ago?"
Nobody had an answer.
Tae slowly stood up from his chair.
Joseph looked at him. "Tae? Where are you going?"
Tae didn't answer right away. He adjusted his coat, resting his hand over his left shoulder. "I'm going upstairs."
"Why?" Joseph asked.
Tae simply turned and walked toward the door, leaving the planning room behind.
The Old Room
Tae climbed the wooden staircase alone, his boots making soft, rhythmic thuds against the steps.
The upper hallway of the old residential wing was dark and empty, lined with closed doors that hadn't been used since the orphanage was repurposed. He walked down to the very end of the hall, stopping outside the door of the old bedroom he used to share.
The door was slightly ajar.
Tae pushed it open with a low creak.
The room hadn't changed at all. Sunlight streamed through the single dusty window, illuminating the faint motes of dust dancing in the air.
Two bunk beds stood against the left wall, their old wooden frames worn smooth from years of use. An old, scratched wooden cabinet sat in the corner. In the doorway leading to the tiny connected bathroom, the faded green net sponge still hung from its small plastic hook.
And on the nightstand between the beds...
The little green watch lay flat on the wood.
Tae stood in the doorway, staring at it.
His expression slowly shifted. He hadn't thought about that watch in years. It was a cheap, simple digital watch his cousin had given him long before any of this chaotic world had invaded his life—a leftover artifact from a time when his biggest concern was high school homework and finishing story chapters.
Tae walked over, his footsteps silent, and picked the watch up off the nightstand.
The screen was dark. The second hand on the analog display wasn't moving.
Tae turned it over in his hand, examining the worn plastic straps. Nothing out of the ordinary. No energy signatures. No hidden tracker. Just an old, dead watch.
He set it back down on the nightstand.
As he leaned back, something under the bottom bunk caught his eye—a faint glint of freshly scraped wood resting in the shadow near the floorboard.
Tae crouched down, reaching under the bed frame. His fingers brushed against a rough piece of wood that had been carved directly into the inner side of the bed frame's support beam.
He pulled himself closer, squinting into the dark space.
Three words had been deeply gouged into the old wood, fresh enough that small splinters were still clinging to the edges of the letters.
I REMEMBER YOU.
Tae's breathing stopped.
His fingers tightened hard against the edge of the bed frame, his knuckles turning white as his heart hammered against his ribs. Someone had been inside this room. Someone had stood right here, in the quietest, most personal space he possessed, while they were all down at the Core.
Behind him—
Tick.
Tae froze.
The little green watch on the nightstand, which had been dead for over two years, suddenly clicked.
Tick.
Tae slowly stood up, turning his head toward the nightstand.
Tick.
His golden lotus eyes narrowed to sharp, dangerous slits.
Deep within his chest, directly beside his core, the small black mark pulsed once—a cold, subtle jolt of dark energy radiating through his veins.
Tick.
Downstairs in the planning room, Joseph's tablet suddenly emitted a sharp, loud warning chime.
"What is that?" Ethan asked, startled as the holographic display flickered violently.
Joseph grabbed the tablet, his eyes widening in shock as the biometric screen flashed bright red. "Tae's mark... it just spiked!"
Across the table, Kd suddenly gasped, his hand snapping up to grab his neck.
The dark, ink-black veins crawling up Kd's jawline suddenly flared with a bright, pale purple light, pulsing in exact unison with the reading on Joseph's screen. Kd stumbled back against his chair, his breathing turning ragged as a wave of intense frost rolled off his skin.
Ayden rushed to hold him up. "Kd! What's wrong?!"
Joseph looked down at the tablet screen, then up at Kd, then instantly toward the ceiling.
The frequency spikes on Tae's core monitor and the necrotic energy signatures on Kd's neck were mirroring each other perfectly, wavelength for wavelength, pulse for pulse.
Joseph's face turned completely pale.
"Tae isn't the only one reacting," Joseph whispered, his mind racing as he stared at the fluctuating readings. "Whatever is happening to Tae... Kd's body is responding to it."
Upstairs in the quiet bedroom, Tae stood staring at the ticking watch, his fist clenched tight as the cold wind outside howled against the windowpane...
And somewhere far beyond the boundaries of their world, past the silent void of deep space...
Something answered.