Chapter 3: The Crimson Awakening and The System's Evolution
Pain. Absolute, uncompromising pain.
If anyone had asked Leo what hell felt like, he would have described this exact moment. He lay convulsing on the rusted, blood-stained floor of the crashed star-cruiser, his fingernails digging deeply into the solid metal, bending them backward.
The transition from a mortal to an Awakened was rarely this violent for ordinary people. For a normal citizen, awakening at the Academy simply meant opening a dormant spiritual meridian, a gentle influx of the universe's ambient mana into their system. It was a baptism of light.
For Leo, it was a baptism of fire and cosmic violence.
[ALERT! Mortal Limit Breached. Reconstructing Cellular Structure...]
The mechanical voice of the System was devoid of sympathy. The 250 Soul Essences he had just absorbed through the Genesis Legion acted as highly volatile fuel. It didn't just flow through his veins; it detonated within them.
His muscles tore themselves apart at the microscopic level, only to be instantly knitted back together, denser and perfectly optimized. The bones in his arms and legs fractured with sickening cracks, the marrow inside boiling away to be replaced by a shimmering, silver-grey spiritual substance. A thick, foul-smelling black sludge—the accumulated toxins and impurities from sixteen years of eating synthetic garbage and breathing Sector 7's smog—was forcibly expelled from his pores.
Through the blinding agony, Leo forced his eyes open. He refused to scream. Screaming was a waste of oxygen. He ground his teeth together so hard that his gums bled, his grey eyes bloodshot and wide.
Above him, the Genesis Legion—the 21-colored Anomaly in the form of a translucent baby—floated serenely. However, it was no longer shifting between twenty-one colors.
It was entirely bathed in a deep, abyssal crimson.
The baby looked down at Leo's agonizing transformation. It tilted its head, blinking its large, glowing red eyes. Then, unexpectedly, the baby raised its chubby little hand and pointed a tiny finger at Leo's chest.
A single drop of crimson light condensed at the tip of the baby's finger and fell, landing directly on Leo's heart.
THUMP.
The sound was louder than a cannon blast in Leo's ears. The moment the crimson drop touched him, the chaotic, burning pain vanished, replaced by an ocean of boundless, terrifying power.
The surrounding atmospheric mana—usually thin and polluted in the Iron Wastes—was suddenly dragged toward Leo in a visible, swirling vortex. It rushed into his newly forged meridians like a tidal wave crashing into a dry riverbed.
Leo gasped, his back arching off the floor as he drew in his first breath as a true Awakened.
[Ding! Forced Awakening Complete.]
[Host has successfully ascended to Rank 1 (1-Star Novice).]
[Condition Met: Host has entered the Realm of Cultivation. The Akashic Singularity System requires an update to accommodate universal laws.]
[Initiating System Update... 10%... 45%... 89%... 100%.]
[System Update Complete. Welcome, Monarch.]
Leo slowly pushed himself off the floor. His clothes were drenched in sweat, blood, and the black, foul-smelling impurities his body had expelled. He felt utterly disgusting, yet simultaneously, he had never felt so impossibly clean and light in his entire life.
He clenched his right fist.
Crack. Crack.
The sheer kinetic force of his muscles contracting created small sonic pops in the air. He felt as though he could punch through the reinforced titanium hull of the star-cruiser with his bare hands. The physical limitations of a mortal were gone. His senses were dialed up to a frightening degree; he could hear the scuttling of mutant centipedes three layers beneath the metal floor, and he could smell the distinct metallic tang of the Harvesters' blood mixing with the rusted iron.
"System," Leo commanded, his voice deeper, resonating with a faint, imperceptible echo of power. "Show me the changes."
A newly refined, sleek, dark-blue holographic interface materialized before his eyes. It was larger and contained significantly more data than before.
[AKASHIC SINGULARITY SYSTEM - V2.0]
Host: Leo
Rank: 1 (1-Star Novice)
Physique: Primeval Void Body (Stage 1 - Iron Skin)
Soul Essences: 254/1000
[New Functions Unlocked]
1. [Soul Inventory]: A pocket dimension bound to the Host's soul. Can store non-living items. Capacity expands with Rank. (Current size: 10x10x10 meters).
2. [Eye of the Sovereign (Passive/Active)]: - Passive: Allows the Host to perceive the precise Rank, Star level, and emotional intent (Hostility/Fear) of any entity up to one major Rank above the Host.
• Active: Consumes mana to see the flow of spiritual energy, revealing hidden traps, illusions, and structural weaknesses in objects or living bodies.
[Soul Weapons - Displayed]
1. The Prismatic Nephilim (Genesis Legion)
• Grade: Mythical (Anomaly)
• Current Form: Seed (Gestation State)
• [Temporary Manifestation - Crimson Aspect]: Due to the sudden influx of human souls, the 1st of the 21 Entities has partially stirred.
• Name: The Blood-Iron Warlord (Infant State).
• Granted Passive Ability: [Crimson Vigor] - Host's stamina regeneration is increased by 500%. Pain receptors can be manually shut off by the Host. Minor wounds heal at a visible rate.
[Soul Weapons - Hidden/Sealed]
• 20 Mythical-Grade Conceptual Armaments (Minimum requirement: Rank 7).
Leo read through the updated interface, his cold eyes gleaming in the dark.
"The Primeval Void Body..." he muttered, tracing a hand over his forearm. Beneath his pale skin, he could feel an incredible density. If a Rank 1 Warrior like Kael punched him now, Kael's hand would probably shatter upon impact.
But what truly caught his attention was the Crimson Aspect of the Genesis Legion.
He looked at the baby, which was still glowing crimson. To his amusement, the baby had somehow conjured a tiny, illusory Spartan-like helmet made of red light, which sat crookedly on its chubby head. It was floating around, throwing tiny, imaginary punches at the air, looking incredibly proud of itself.
"The Blood-Iron Warlord," Leo whispered. "An entity of war and armies. And this is just its infant state."
The passive ability, Crimson Vigor, was exactly what he needed. His biggest weakness earlier was the massive stamina drain of the Void-Step technique. With a 500% increase in stamina regeneration, he could chain Void-Steps multiple times without tearing his muscles apart.
Leo extended his hand. "Come here."
The crimson baby stopped shadowboxing, saluted Leo with a tiny, chubby hand (which was ridiculously cute), and vanished into his soul space, returning to its multi-colored seed form within him.
Leo turned his attention to the five corpses littering the cargo bay.
In the slums, waste was the ultimate sin. A dead man had no need for worldly possessions.
He walked over to the Harvester leader whose spine he had severed. With his newly awakened senses, looting was incredibly efficient. He didn't just pat the man down; he used the Eye of the Sovereign.
His pupils momentarily flashed with a golden ring. Instantly, the world shifted into a spectrum of spiritual energies. He could see the residual mana dissipating from the leader's corpse. More importantly, he saw a concentrated block of energy in the man's inner coat pocket.
Leo reached in and pulled out a sleek, black metallic chit. A universal credit drive.
He pressed his thumb against the biometric scanner. The scanner flashed red, denying access. Leo simply squeezed his fingers. With his new Rank 1 strength, the reinforced casing cracked open, revealing the raw data chip inside. He possessed enough underground tech knowledge to bypass the encryption later. Judging by the weight and model of the drive, there were easily over 15,000 credits loaded onto it.
"A fortune," Leo murmured indifferently.
He continued his search. Beside the credit drive, he found a small, obsidian token etched with a symbol: a snake wrapping around a bleeding skull.
The Obsidian Cartel.
Leo's eyes narrowed. The Cartel was not a street gang like the Iron Vipers. They were a massive, ruthless syndicate that controlled the black markets of the outer planetary rings. They dealt in illegal Soul Cores, slavery, and forbidden alchemy. The fact that these Harvesters were operating under the Cartel meant Leo had just stepped on the toes of a behemoth.
Did he care? No.
"More enemies just mean more Soul Essences to farm," Leo reasoned coldly. He tossed the token, the credit drive, and the Harvesters' tactical knives into his newly unlocked [Soul Inventory]. The items vanished into thin air, stored safely within his soul space.
He stripped the cleanest tactical coat off one of the Harvesters to replace his burned tattered jacket. He then picked up his titanium rebar. Even as a Rank 1, a physical weapon was useful for hiding his true capabilities.
With a thought, Leo activated Void-Step.
Whoosh.
He blurred into the shadows. Thanks to the Crimson Vigor, the strain on his legs was practically non-existent. He bounded across the Iron Wastes, heading back toward the sprawling, neon-lit decay of Sector 7.
[Sector 7 - Slum Block 4, Apartment 302]
The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a sickly, polluted orange glow through the cracked, grime-covered window of Leo's apartment.
The apartment was barely larger than a prison cell. It contained a rusted metal cot, a malfunctioning refrigeration unit, and a tiny bathroom where the pipes groaned constantly. The walls were thin, and the muffled sounds of an arguing couple next door filtered through the cheap insulation.
Leo stood under the showerhead. The water was lukewarm and heavily chlorinated, tinged with a faint brown rust. He scrubbed the dried black sludge, blood, and grime from his skin.
As the dirty water swirled down the drain, Leo looked at his reflection in the cracked mirror.
He looked different. The malnutrition that had plagued his sixteen years of life seemed to have vanished. His physique was lean, cut from marble, every muscle perfectly defined without being overly bulky. His skin was pale, devoid of the scars he had accumulated over the years; the Primeval Void Body reconstruction had wiped them away flawlessly. Only his eyes remained the same—cold, calculating, and devoid of the innocence a boy his age should possess.
He stepped out, dried himself with a rough towel, and put on a clean set of black clothes he had salvaged a year ago.
His stomach let out a low, demanding rumble. Breaking through to Rank 1 required massive caloric energy, and his body was screaming for sustenance.
Leo walked to the refrigerator unit and pulled out a grey, rectangular block wrapped in cheap plastic. A standard Government-Issued Synthetic Nutrient Ration. It tasted like compressed sawdust mixed with motor oil, but it kept a person alive.
He unwrapped it, sat on the edge of his rusted cot, and took a bite, chewing mechanically.
Suddenly, a soft glow illuminated the dim room.
Pop.
The 21-colored Genesis Legion baby materialized in front of him. It had shifted back to its multi-colored, peaceful state. It floated over to Leo, landing gently on his knee. It looked up at the grey nutrient block in Leo's hand, its large eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Goo?" it asked, reaching out with its tiny, translucent hands.
Leo paused. He broke off a small crumb of the synthetic ration and held it out. "You want to try human food? You literally just ate five human souls an hour ago."
The baby eagerly grabbed the crumb and popped it into its mouth.
It chewed once.
Instantly, the baby's colors turned a sickly, nauseated green. Its face scrunched up in absolute disgust. It stuck its tongue out and dramatically spat the crumb onto the floor, wiping its tongue with its tiny hands.
"Bleh! Pfft! Goo-baa!" it complained loudly, looking at Leo as if he had just tried to poison it.
Leo stared at the dramatic infant. A genuine, low chuckle escaped his lips. It was a sound he hadn't made in years.
"Yeah, I agree," Leo said, taking another bite of the terrible food. "It tastes like garbage. But until you evolve enough to conquer a planet for me, this is what we eat."
The baby pouted, crossed its tiny arms, and floated up to land on top of Leo's head. It settled down in his messy black hair, acting like a glowing, multi-colored bird's nest, and promptly fell asleep, emitting soft, rhythmic breathing sounds.
Leo finished his meal in silence, letting the slice of peace wash over him. These quiet moments were rare, and he knew they wouldn't last.
The peace was shattered an hour later.
Leo was sitting cross-legged on the floor, attempting to sense the ambient mana to further stabilize his Rank 1 core, when his enhanced hearing caught the sound of heavy boots marching up the concrete stairwell of his apartment building.
Not just one pair. Dozens.
They weren't trying to be stealthy. They were marching with the arrogance of people who owned the building.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
The footsteps stopped outside his door.
"This is the room," a gruff voice spoke. "The kids said Kael came up to the roof to collect from the orphan, and they found Kael with a crushed windpipe five minutes later. The orphan is the only one who could have done it."
"Kick it down," a second, much colder voice commanded. "If Kael was taken out by a Rank 0 trash, he deserved it. But nobody disrespects the Iron Vipers. Drag the boy out. I want to see how he screams."
Leo slowly opened his eyes. The golden ring of the Eye of the Sovereign flashed in his pupils. He looked right through the cheap metal door.
In the hallway stood fifteen men, armed with heavy pipes, shock-batons, and crude firearms. At the front stood a tall, muscular man radiating a pale yellow aura.
[Target Identified: Iron Viper Lieutenant.]
[Rank: 1 (8-Star Warrior).]
[Hostility: Maximum.]
Leo didn't panic. He didn't even stand up immediately. He gently reached up and patted the sleeping, glowing baby on his head.
"Wake up, little one," Leo whispered, a terrifyingly cold smile spreading across his face. "Breakfast is at the door."
BAM!
A heavy boot slammed into the metal door, buckling the hinges.
Leo stood up. He summoned the titanium rebar from his Soul Inventory, the heavy metal materializing in his grip with a deadly weight.
The quiet morning was over. The first bloodbath of the slums was about to begin.