Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World-Chapter 294: Adrian

<🎧 Song Recommendation: Wait by M83>

I loved it while writing. You can listen on repeat as you read. :)

...

Floating lifelessly in the absolute zero of the Void was a white-haired human. His skin, once thrumming with warmth, was now as pale and brittle as old parchment.

His eyes, which once burned with a defiant, electric blue, were glazed over, staring sightlessly into the abyss. His hands reached out, frozen in a desperate grasp, as if seeking a freedom he would never touch again.

To any observer drifting through the wreckage of the Space Tunnel, it was a tragedy. A warrior fallen.

But to the Hexad, it was merely shed skin.

The creature drifting in the vacuum had no life. It was a husk. A hollow shell discarded like a snake molting its scales.

The real essence of Adrian was nowhere near that body.

He was gone.

In a state beyond sleep, beyond death, and beyond time, Adrian existed only as data. He was a stream of encrypted consciousness, compressed into a singular point of existence by the hexagonal prison of the Arbiters.

Everything had happened too fast for his human mind to process. One moment he was screaming, his will fighting against the fabric of the universe; the next, he was nothing.

He wasn’t even capable of thought. The concept of I had been stripped away, leaving only a raw soul that floated in a digital purgator. It felt like the end...

***

In the center of the Galactic Throne Room, sat the Emperor. Before him hovered a perfect, translucent cube. Inside it, suspended in a stasis field of absolute complexity, was a single spark.

The soul of Adrian Sparkborn.

"Report," the Emperor’s voice boomed.

The six Arbiters knelt in a perfect semi-circle. Barius, the Red Giant, spoke first.

"The Subject has been secured, My Lord. His physical shell was discarded. This... is the essence."

The Emperor leaned forward, the golden light of his form dimming slightly as he peered into the cube. He extended a will and prodded the spark.

He expected resistance. He expected a storm. He expected the power that had deleted Valdis, disrupted Reality Anchors, and threatened the stability of the Core.

Instead, he found... nothing.

The Emperor recoiled, confusion rippling through his aura. "This is... puny."

He probed again, deeper this time, tearing at the edges of the spark. It was weak. Fragile. It felt less like a god-slayer and more like a lost child. The soul had zero energy within it, no hidden cosmic connection, no divine blueprint.

It was just a mundane flicker of life.

"Explain this!" The Emperor roared, the throne room trembling. "You bring me a gnat and tell me it is the dragon? This creature has zero abilities. Its spiritual density is pathetic. Are you certain you captured the correct target?"

Arbiter Voss, the living construct, stepped forward.

"Its Identity is confirmed. The temporal signature matches the disruption event. The energy residue is consistent with Void manipulation."

"Then where is the power?" The Emperor demanded.

Arbiter Zek, the crystalline woman, raised her head. Her faceted eyes caught the light of the Emperor’s rage.

"My Lord, we have analyzed the anomaly. The Subject’s weakness is illogical. It contradicts the observed reality of his feats. Therefore, we hypothesize a lock."

"A lock?"

"A Soul-Seal," Zek continued. "We believe a powerful entity is with this soul, but it isn’t integrated into the soul, but rather attached to it via a hyper-dimensional tether. When we captured him, the tether snapped or went dormant to protect itself. The power is likely hidden behind a encryption key within the soul itself. Like a fail-safe."

The Emperor was silent for a long moment. He stared at the pathetic spark trapped in the cube.

"A fail-safe," he mused. "Meaning if we pry it open..."

"If we apply sufficient metaphysical pressure," Zek concluded, "the seal will eventually shatter. It may destroy the Subject’s mind in the process, but the Core’s data will be exposed."

"How long?"

"Time is irrelevant in the Archive," Voss stated. "But under maximum extraction protocols... perhaps a cycle. The resistance is surprisingly stubborn for such a weak vessel."

The Emperor sat back, his golden form flaring with purpose.

"Do it," he commanded. "No matter what it takes. Get everything out of that scum. There is something giving it power, something that mocks the order I have built. I want it."

The Arbiters bowed.

They took the cube away, not to a prison cell, but to the Singularity Vault.

It was a facility built inside a collapsed star, a place where the laws of physics were rewritten to ensure absolute containment.

They placed the cube in the center of a Gravitational Nullifier, surrounded by twelve layers of psionic dampeners and guarded by a legion of automated war-frames.

Inside the cube, Adrian wasn’t able to feel the pain of being unmade, piece by piece, over and over again.

He was trapped in the most guarded place in the universe, a specimen in a jar, with gods picking at his seams.

***

The silence in the Slums was heavy, broken only by the sound of departing engines.

The Concordat fleets had descended like locusts. Alien soldiers in armor had flooded the narrow streets, scanning every building, every person, every scrap of technology.

They tore apart workshops, interrogated leaders, and vaporized anyone who looked at them wrong.

But they found nothing.

The interrogations were fruitless. When asked about Adrian, the locals could only say so much. He was a ghost to them.

Just a mysterious leader who appeared from the shadows, dropped a few miracles, and vanished. No one knew his power nor his plans.

Frustrated and empty-handed, the fleet eventually lifted off, leaving the Slums in a state of terrified confusion.

But inside an unassuming building, the mood was funereal.

All nine of Adrian’s Vassals were gathered in the living room. Everywhere was filled with so much nervous energy that you could almost feel it.

Nyra sat on the edge of the sofa. Her usual composure was gone, replaced by a frantic terror.

"Charles, Any news? Anything?"

Charles stood by the window, staring up at the patch of sky where the ships had just left with a resigned expression.

Even Karl didn’t have his usual grin. He sat quietly in the corner with a troubled frown,

It was impossible. It felt wrong. The idea that Adrian was gone made no sense.

Charles shook his head slowly. "No. I haven’t heard anything..."

"He can’t be..." Nyra couldn’t finish the sentence.

"He isn’t dead," Charles said firmly. "If he died, the bond would snap. We’re his Vassals. We’re linked to his soul. If that flame went out, we would feel the cold. I... I spoke to him about this once."

His words were meant to be a lifeline, but they felt like straw. Knowing he was alive was one thing. Knowing he was safe was another.

The silence stretched.

Finally, Eli cleared his throat.

"All of you need to stop," Eli said, his voice gaining strength with each word. "Have some faith in my boy. They can’t get Adrian. Not really. He’s slippery. He’s smart. He’s probably... probably just dealing with a few things. He’s playing the long game. He’ll be back when he’s ready."

He looked around the room, meeting each of their gazes.

"For now, the best way to help him isn’t moping. It’s doing what he asked us to do. We take care of the people. We keep the Sparkborn running. We make sure there’s a home for him to come back to."

Nyra took a shaky breath. "Yeah. He’s right... There’s no need to panic. Panicking won’t bring him back."

She straightened up, forcing herself into the role of the leader Adrian needed her to be. "Is the Factory still accessible?"

Karl didn’t speak. He simply dissappeared from his seat and reappeared a second later, showing everyone that it was.

"Right," Nyra nodded, though her heart wasn’t in it. "Good."

Damien stood up abruptly. "I have... things to handle... In the forge."

The Dwarf didn’t wait for a response, walking out with his shoulders hunched.

One by one, the others followed. They mumbled excuses to leave, as nobody wanted to stay in that room looking at the empty chair of their leader.

Soon, only Nyra remained.

She sat there for a long time, staring at the dust motes dancing in the light.

Slowly, she pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms.

"No... You can’t be gone, Adrian. You’re out there somewhere. I know you are."

A tear slid down to her cheek as her mind wandered.

"You can’t be gone..." The tears flowed freely now, soaking her sleeves. "I... I never even got to tell you. I never said it."

She looked up at the empty room with red eyes.

"I love you, Adrian... I love you. Please... please don’t leave us. Don’t leave me."

She broke down completely, becoming a sobbing mess of grief. She felt abandoned and small.

She didn’t notice the light changing in the room as warmth suddenly bloomed behind her.

Until suddenly, a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Standing next to ger was a slender and tall woman with skin that glowed golden.

"Who are you?" Nyra whispered in fear.

"I? I am the guardian of Sector-7G. You may know me as the Goddess."