• Chapter 12: Naming the Spear
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"Today is your first full-scale Armament Resonance Training," said Zhong Lan, pulling down the projection screen at the front of the classroom. Her voice was calm, but her eyes scanned the room with quiet precision.
"Let's see if you can really hear your weapon's voice."
The system interface lit up with circles of blue light, glowing softly in the darkened room.
"Remember," Zhong Lan continued, "resonance isn't about control. It's not about forcing your Armament to listen. It's about whether you can—see the memory together."
She stepped aside as the system ran its course.
"It may not speak in words. It might only echo in emotions. But if you feel something—follow it."
One by one, the resonance rings activated. Each student's Armament shimmered faintly in response.
Lin Kui stood in silence. The water mirror floated before her, smooth as glass, unmoved.
She bit her lip, fingers tight around the summoning ring. Her lips moved silently:
"…Are you still not willing?"
Nothing.
No echo. No hum. Just silence.
On the other side of the room, Nie Shi reached out and gripped his spear.
His eyes closed.
This time, instead of blankness, his mind filled with trees—shadowed woods, wet soil beneath boots, the spear half-buried in the memory of something long forgotten.
He didn't hear a voice. But he felt it.
A stillness that wasn't empty.
A weight that wanted to be carried.
A call, from something deep in the dark.
And then, quietly, he spoke:
"Your name… is Void."
A pulse surged through the weapon.
The system responded at once. [Binding Confirmed: Void]
[Path Established]
[Initial Sync Rate: 12.4%] A faint glow pulsed along the shaft, like a heartbeat—faint, but alive.
Zhong Lan stood still, arms crossed. Her eyes lingered on the screen for a long moment.
She didn't speak. But she noted it down—line by line. Training ended, but Lin Kui stayed behind.
The mirror remained hovering before her. Still no movement. No voice.
But she didn't try again.
She just stood there for a while, quiet, and whispered:
"It's okay if you don't want to talk. I'll wait."
Her reflection looked back—soft, small, almost sad.
She gave a small, bitter smile, turning to leave—
Footsteps.
She turned.
Nie Shi was standing there.
He didn't speak right away. Just walked up, slow and steady, and stood beside her.
"…Can you hear it?" he asked.
Lin Kui shook her head.
"I can't hear any voice. No forest. Just… the mirror."
Nie Shi tilted his head, looking at the water.
"Can you hear water?"
She paused.
Her eyes lowered.
Then she closed them.
Silence.
Then— "A little."
"That's enough," he said.
He gently reached out, placing his hand over hers, guiding it back to the mirror.
The surface shimmered—just a ripple. But it was different.
Alive.
The system pinged softly: [Resonance Detected: +2.1%]
[Path not yet constructed / Preliminary sync confirmed] Lin Kui's eyes widened. Her breath caught.
"…It responded."
She turned to him, surprise turning into something softer. A quiet, grateful smile.
"Thank you."
Nie Shi didn't reply. He withdrew his hand.
Then, as he walked away, he paused and said:
"You're already close to it." Late at night.
The lights in the teaching building dimmed, one by one. The main wing fell silent.
In a hidden corner lab, Meng Yao stepped into the darkness and activated a locked console. His fingers moved with practiced calm, entering a series of encrypted codes. [Connecting…]
[External Node Linked]
The screen flickered to life—no face. Just a black waveform and static-filled voice.
"Report. ID: M-9."
Meng Yao didn't hesitate. His voice was even.
"Target from Class E3 has completed preliminary binding. Weapon name: 'Void.' Sync rate is stable. No mental rejection detected."
He paused, reading data from a small device at his hip.
"Path type remains unknown. Possibly self-guided through deep-memory resonance."
Static buzzed.
"And the mirror user?"
"Lin Kui," Meng Yao said. "Still unnamed. But system registered micro-resonance under guidance. Preliminary response confirmed."
A pause.
"Has your cover been compromised?"
"No," Meng Yao answered. "All interactions remain within expected emotional range. Subject exhibits no suspicion."
Another moment of silence passed.
Then the voice returned:
"Continue observation. Log future resonance attempts. Await next directive."
The signal cut.
Meng Yao pulled out his earpiece.
He didn't move for a moment—just stared at the dead screen, his reflection faintly visible.
Then he stood.
Straightened his collar.
And walked out.
By the time he re-entered the hallway, his soft smile had returned. Controlled. Familiar.
To anyone passing by, he was just another top-ranked student.
No one could tell he'd just reported on two of his classmates.
And somewhere deep in the memory system's unseen layers—
A single red glyph lit up.
A low hum began to spread, line by line, like something waking from a long sleep.