——The Storm is Already Here
Shawn was packing a small travel bag when the sound of rotors ripped through the sky.
The walls trembled. Windows rattled. Neighbors screamed.
A military-grade helicopter descended onto the narrow street outside his apartment, its downdraft hurling dust and debris like shrapnel. Car alarms wailed in protest, their flashing lights painting the chaos in jagged red strokes.
Then—the doorbell rang.
Shawn opened it.
Standing there was the wire-glassed man from the hotel. Crisp black suit. Unreadable smile.
"Shawn Carter," the man greeted smoothly. "I'm Kent. We're here to escort you to your interview."
Shawn's grip tightened on the doorframe. No conventional route, then. "You."
Kent's smile didn't waver. "Elder Lee thought you might refuse the conventional route. So he arranged… alternative transportation."
Shawn's pulse spiked. Elder Lee. One of the Seven Elders of CP-Hub.
And now he was sending a helicopter.
Kent tilted his head. "You coming? Or do we have to ask less politely?"
---
The helicopter did not go to Capital University.
Instead, it veered deep into the mountains, its shadow slicing over valleys where no roads were marked on any map.
Shawn watched through the window as the landscape twisted—forests giving way to sheer cliffs, then to a basin hidden behind a curtain of artificial fog.
The mist parted like a stage curtain, revealing X-Red Base, one of CP-Hub's command centers.
Shawn followed Kent through steel corridors lined with armed guards. Soldiers stood like statues, their assault rifles gleaming dully under the sickly yellow glow of sodium vapor lamps.
The air smelled of ozone and gun oil.
Beyond the final gate, the world changed.
X-Red Base sprawled across manicured hills, its crimson-bricked villas and black-glass towers crouching behind walls threaded with laser sensors.
Ancient ginkgo trees whispered to neoclassical fountains where koi the color of blood swam in endless circles.
In the heart of it all, a pavilion floated atop a lotus-choked pond.
Elder Lee waited there.
His white robes blended with the steam rising from a bone-china teapot.
At his throat gleamed a jade pendant carved into a stallion mid-leap—
The Heaven Arcane Core.
"You've met Mr. King," the old man said as Shawn knelt onto a silk cushion.
Not a question.
The tea poured itself. The stream twisted midair, forming the characters for betrayal before dissolving.
Kent loosened his tie, revealing a second pendant—a rooster with emerald eyes.
The Wind Arcane Core.
Two of them. Right here.
The steam from Elder Lee's cup coiled into an hourglass before vanishing.
Shawn tightened his grip on his own Thunder Core pendant.
It pulsed. Three quick, two slow.
A warning.
Elder Lee's voice snapped him back. "Capital University didn't choose you for your grades, Shawn Carter."
A holographic screen flickered to life.
A surveillance image.
Shawn, atop Meta Origin Mountain, the Thunder Core blazing in his hand. Above him, storm clouds gathered—unnatural, impossible.
Kent adjusted his glasses. "Their satellites caught this."
Shawn's throat tightened. "So it's a trap."
"Worse," Elder Lee said. "It's an invitation.An invitation from people who knew exactly what the Arcane Cores were capable of. "
Shawn's mind raced.
If Capital University was watching him... then the Unseen Gatekeepers weren't the only ones involved.
Mr. King's warning echoed in his head:
"CP-Hub's archives might hold records on the Arcane Cores."
He steadied his breath and turned to the old man beside him.
"Grand Hierophant," he began, the title unfamiliar and heavy on his tongue. "We have twenty-seven days left."
Elder Lee stared at the phone screen, unreadable.
2031.07.01 | 27D:010:10:17.
The air thickened.
The pond stilled, its surface glossing over like glass. Even the koi froze mid-swim, gills flaring in silent defiance of time. Shadows from the ginkgo trees stretched unnaturally toward the pavilion—drawn to the old man, as if summoned.
Shawn swallowed.
This wasn't persuasion.
This was power.
A demonstration.
"We need Chairman Da's help," he said quietly.
Kent's fingers twitched toward his Wind Core. Lantern light caught his glasses—two flickering moons in the dark.
He scoffed. "Chairman Da doesn't help. He trades."
Shawn turned to Elder Lee.
"Then we trade."
He paused—then said the words that made Lee's eyes narrow.
"We offer him the Central Arcane Core."
Silence fell, thick and absolute.
Then Shawn laid it bare—Mr. King's warning, the AGI-ST's looming time loop, and their last gamble: offering the Core.
"Da respects you," Shawn pressed. "If you could speak to him—"
Elder Lee raised one finger.
The porcelain teacup cracked. Thin fractures snaked through its golden seams. Black liquid seeped out, then vanished—evaporating before it touched the silk.
The air turned sharp with the scent of ozone.
"I once sat where Da sits now," the old man murmured. "Walked the same blood-soaked corridors."
He leaned forward. His jade stallion pendant caught the light, gleaming faintly.
"If I go as Grand Hierophant, he won't see a guide. Only a rival—clinging to relevance."
A koi leaped from the frozen pond, shattering the illusion of stillness.
Kent cleared his throat. "Which is why the Society must elect a new Grand Hierophant. Someone Da won't see as a threat."
Shawn's hands trembled.
Elder Lee studied him. Around them, the shadows whispered, brushing his skin like static.
"The Cores have chosen—Ranzi," Lee said.
He let the name settle in the air.
"Yiran Cai," he confirmed.
Shawn's breath caught.
Yiran Cai. The legendary I Ching master. The one who had once told him—
"The storm is in your bones, boy. Learn to wield it."
Kent shifted, uneasy. "Ranzi is... unpredictable."
"He's also the only one Da might actually listen to," Lee replied. "He'll go not as a rival, but as a scholar. He'll bring the Core—as a gift."
Shawn hesitated. "Can we trust him?"
Elder Lee gave a thin smile.
"He wants the Cores found as much as we do."
Kent exhaled. "And if Chairman Da refuses?"
Lee's eyes darkened.
"Then we'll know CP-Hub has chosen the wrong side."
His gaze caught the lantern's last flicker—not amber, but the cold gleam of jade.
"The storm isn't coming."
He placed a withered hand over Shawn's.
A shock surged through him.
The teacup shattered.
"It's already here.