Ash walked for what felt like days. He didn't tire, not in the way he expected to. His legs grew heavy, his breath shallow at times, but his body moved with an unnatural endurance — quiet, steady, determined.
The broken lands eventually gave way to smoother terrain: paved roads half-buried in time, twisted rail lines, and metallic ruins that buzzed faintly with dormant energy. It was like stumbling into the skeleton of a world far beyond anything he could understand.
And then, he saw it.
Atop a ridge, bathed in the silver light of the fractured sky, stood a city.
Tall, angular towers pierced the clouds. Their surfaces shimmered with flickering runes, and bright streams of neon energy pulsed between floating platforms. Massive airborne vehicles drifted silently overhead, and luminous bridges connected glass-like structures at dizzying heights. The city glowed — alive, efficient, clean.
It was nothing like the world he had just walked through. This place was thriving.
Ash stood for a long moment, watching.
His expression remained neutral, but deep inside, something shifted. He didn't know what he expected the world to be — ruined, perhaps. Silent. This… this was something else.
He descended the slope.
As he approached, the outer walls shimmered and parted. Transparent defense grids flickered blue as he passed through. A drone buzzed to life nearby and scanned him silently, its eye glowing red for a moment before continuing on its route. No one stopped him.
The city street beneath his feet was seamless obsidian, marked with glowing white lines. Crowds moved like synchronized streams — people in robes, armor, or lab coats; tall beastkin in chrome implants; floating constructs with AI cores in their chests. Cultivators and researchers walked side by side. Everyone carried devices that shimmered with holographic glyphs.
Ash stood out like an echo in a storm.
He wandered without direction. Heads turned briefly, but no one approached. A few gave him curious glances — a child, barefoot, in ash-stained robes with no ID sigil — but most looked away. Perhaps they thought him a wandering disciple, or some failed experiment returned from exile.
Towering screens on distant skyscrapers played looped broadcasts.
> "—new breakthroughs in Soul Frame stabilization—"
"—Order announces further expansion into the 11th sector—"
"—no signs of Void Exposure after the last incident—"
Everywhere, it spoke of advancement. Peace. Immortality.
Ash paused before a fountain shaped like a blooming lotus, its petals made of glowing crystal, the water inside flowing upward instead of down. He stared at his reflection.
The boy that stared back was pale, too still, eyes too deep for someone his age. Not cold. Not cruel. But... unsettling.
He looked lost.
He realized, suddenly, that he was.
---
It wasn't long before someone approached him.
"Hey! You, kid!"
A tall man in a dark-blue armored uniform strode toward him, flanked by two floating orbs — police-class detection drones. A thin badge glowed on his shoulder with the sigil of the city's Enforcement Division.
Ash turned to face him, unmoving.
The officer frowned. "You've been wandering near restricted zones and your body doesn't carry an ID chip. Mind explaining what you're doing here?"
Ash blinked. "I don't know."
The officer's frown deepened. "You don't know?"
"I woke up in the middle of nowhere ," Ash replied calmly. "I don't remember who I am. Or how I got here."
The officer exchanged a look with one of the drones. It buzzed a soft red tone. "No bio-tag, no ID seal, no name imprint. His spiritual matrix is... unmarked."
"Another erased soul?" one of the drones buzzed.
"No," the officer muttered. "Those carry system interference traces. He's... clean. Too clean."
He studied Ash again, this time more cautiously.
"What's your name, kid?"
Ash hesitated, then quietly said, "Ash."
"Just Ash?"
He nodded.
"You're not lying," the officer said after a moment, mostly to himself. "But you're definitely not normal."
He sighed and waved a hand. "Protocol's clear. No ID, no guardian claim, no memory — we file him under the Void Recovery Directive."
The drones pulsed blue.
Ash tilted his head. "What does that mean?"
"It means we're taking you in for evaluation," the officer said. "No need to panic."
"I'm not panicking."
"...Right."
---
Ash was escorted through a series of gleaming tunnels and lift platforms. The Enforcement Hall was sterile, metallic, and bathed in calming light. He sat quietly on a reclining seat while devices scanned him from head to toe. A screen showed his vitals: stable, strong. Cultivation: dormant. Soul resonance: unusually stable.
The technician watching the data frowned slightly but said nothing.
After an hour, Ash was brought to a wide white chamber. A woman in silver-trimmed robes stood waiting — her eyes sharp, her aura restrained but vast.
She motioned for him to sit across from her.
"I'm Administrator Vael," she said. "Soul Inquiry Division. You've been processed and cleared for temporary status. No aggression detected. But your case is... unusual."
Ash said nothing.
"You claim to have no memory," she continued, watching him. "That's not unheard of, though rare. We checked for soul tampering, but there are no signs of corruption or deletion. So tell me—" She leaned forward slightly. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Ash lowered his gaze.
"Waking up in ash," he said simply.
Vael waited. "And before that?"
Ash shook his head. "Nothing."
She tapped a finger against the table. "Do you remember how you learned to speak? What language you're using now?"
"No."
"But you're calm. Focused. You aren't panicking. Most children in your position would be hysterical."
Ash met her gaze. "Should I be?"
She blinked. Something in his voice unsettled her—not the tone, but the precision. The calmness that didn't feel taught. It was like speaking to someone far older than he appeared.
"I believe you're telling the truth," she said finally. "But truth doesn't mean harmless. And you have no identity, no records in the system, no family to contact. So…"
She stood.
"…by authority of the Order's law, you'll be placed in a state-monitored youth sanctuary: Sector 7 Orphan Enclave. There, you'll be observed, educated, and — if no complications arise — allowed to integrate."
Ash nodded. "Alright."
Vael paused again. "No resistance? No questions?"
"One," Ash said softly. "What is death?"
Vael froze.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then she laughed gently — a polite, uneasy laugh.
"I suppose that's natural," she said, trying to brush it off. "You were found in a ruined zone. Likely some old record fragments mixed in. Death is... a concept from pre-Order history. An outdated one."
Ash watched her. "It's not real?"
"Not anymore. Not since the Order's Immortal Mandate. Now we recycle souls, reconstruct bodies, transfer minds. No one dies. You may experience trauma, loss, or temporary termination, but it's all reversible. That's the miracle of our age."
Ash was quiet for a while.
"Then what do you fear?"
Vael's smile faltered.
"…What?"
"If nothing ends," he said, "what do people fear?"
She stared at him.
The silence grew thick.
Then she waved her hand. "Take him to the enclave."
---
Ash was led through towering white corridors to a docked hover transport. The drones whispered to each other in a language he didn't understand. He sat quietly in the back of the cabin, eyes watching the city drift past the windows as the craft moved through the sky.
People lived their lives in layers of glass and light. Floating cities, inverted gardens, radiant towers powered by spiritual technology. Even their meditation chambers glowed with artificial energy lines. Everything was perfect. Everything was eternal.
Yet as Ash watched, he noticed something else.
In every face he passed… was stillness.
Not peace. Not joy.
Stagnation.
No one looked afraid. But no one looked truly alive either.
Like they'd forgotten something important.
Like they didn't even realize they were waiting… for something to end.
---
The Orphan Enclave was a domed facility nestled in a lush green valley within the city's lower sector. Artificial sky. Simulated sunlight. It looked like paradise — playgrounds, cultivation halls, simulation chambers, and youth dormitories. Dozens of children lived there, training, laughing, eating.
Ash was processed, assigned a room, and left alone.
He stood by the window.
The synthetic sun hovered motionless above fake hills.
He stared at it for a long time.
It didn't warm him.