Earth was no longer the fragile blue marble of the protagonist's past. It was the Core Era—an advanced civilization where massive orbital rings girdled the planet like the halos of gods. Mechas patrolled the thermosphere, their thrusters leaving faint ion trails against the black, while space lanes shimmered like glowing rivers, pumping the lifeblood of commerce to distant colonies.
Yet, inside the Central Medical Tower, the hum of the universe was replaced by a clinical, heavy silence.
The protagonist, the five-year-old with the mind of a man who once lived by the slide rule—sat on a diagnostic bed. He watched the faint, crimson line floating around his wrist. It was a deep, burning red, thin as a spider's silk, dancing with his pulse.
His mother, Dr. Lyra, stood beside him. To the sector, she was a legendary trauma surgeon. To the hidden world, she was a high-level cultivator who understood the "math" of the human soul.
She sealed the room. The locks hissed, and the dampening fields engaged.
"It's time you understand what this means," she said, her voice dropping the warmth of a mother for the precision of a mentor.
The Ribbon Cultivation System
She did not bring up complex scientific papers. She did not activate a hologram. She simply extended her hand.
A long, stable ribbon of light flowed from her palm. It was a rich, vivid purple, pulsing with an aura of deep calculation and calm. Unlike the boy's raw red, hers was a polished, regal violet.
"This," she said calmly, "is cultivation."
The boy stared, his gray eyes reflecting the violet glow. "Where am I?"
She looked at the crimson wisp on his wrist. "Thread Phase. Level 1."
1. Thread Phase (Levels 1–100)
She sat beside him, the purple light from her hand casting long shadows. "Thread Phase is the foundation. It is the wiring of your house."
Levels 1–100: The journey of a single line.
The Mechanic: "Each level, your thread grows longer," she explained, touching his wrist. "At Level 10, it becomes slightly thicker. At Level 20, thicker again. Every ten levels, the breadth increases to handle the pressure."
The boy nodded, his mind already visualizing a circuit board. He thought of his father, Arin. When Arin released his ribbon, it wasn't purple or red. It was a void-black, heavy and dense, built for absolute suppression.
"And at 100?"
"Full Thread Completion. Your body becomes a perfect conductor." Her voice turned stern. "But if you rush growth without stability, your thread fractures. As a doctor, I have repaired too many broken cultivators who thought they could skip the math. They didn't die they just became husks who could never touch the Ribbon again."
2. Strand Phase (Levels 1–100)
She extended her purple ribbon further. Before his eyes, multiple violet threads began to emerge from her skin, twisting and braiding together like a high-tension cable.
"A Strand is several completed threads consolidated," she said.
The Evolution: Each strand evolves from 1 to 100 independently.
The Purpose: Strands make thread creation faster and repair damage automatically.
Asset Bond: This is where the ribbon becomes semi-real.
She gently wrapped the purple strand around her hand, forming a semi-solid ribbon bandage. "In surgery, I use this to stabilize internal injuries that no laser can reach."
3. Loom Phase (Levels 1–100)
The strands in her hand began to cross and interlace. They formed a geometric lattice in the air—a translucent, rotating frame of glowing violet geometry.
"This is Loom," she whispered.
The Patterns: Strands interlock to stabilize dimensional space.
The Integration: "In this phase, you can integrate with advanced tools. Mechas. Energy blades. Medical rigs. Your ribbon is no longer just a cord; it is a structure."
4. Weave Phase (Levels 1–100)
Suddenly, the purple ribbons in the room extended outward, linking into invisible lines that seemed to pass through the walls.
"This is Weave," Lyra said, her presence suddenly feeling massive.
The Network: Multiple looms connect into a single consciousness.
The Scale: "You can control more than just yourself. You can synchronize tactical units. You gain partial awareness of other universes."
The boy swallowed hard. "That's fleet-level, right?"
She nodded once. A Weave commander was a living supercomputer.
5. Higher Phases — Net, Fabric, Mesh
Her ribbons faded, and the room returned to normal.
"These are beyond most people. Net. Fabric. Mesh. At those levels, cultivators interact with the universal membrane itself. They don't pilot ships; they stabilize reality. Space fortresses. Planetary defense. Things that make the stars look small."
The Iron Rule
She took the boy's small wrist in her hand, her purple resonance momentarily brushing against his crimson thread. The contrast was striking the fire of the red against the cool depth of the purple.
"Listen carefully. The universe is a machine, and the Ribbon is its power. No skipping. No forcing. A Thread must reach 100 before a Strand. A Strand must mature before a Loom. If the structure is weak, the building falls."
She let go of his hand. "You will grow. But you will grow correctly."
The boy looked down at his red thread. It was small. It was humble. It lacked the crushing weight of his father's black resonance or the complexity of his mother's purple.
But as he looked out the window at the massive mechas moving across the Earth's sky, he didn't feel small. He felt like a man who had finally been given the blueprint to the universe.
He was at the Core. He was Level 1.