"Man... I'm beat."
Ash stretched his arms, sinking into the couch. His head lolled back, exhaustion pressing down on him like a heavy weight. The low hum of the base's machinery filled the silence, steady and unchanging—a dull reminder of their isolated existence.
His eyes fluttered shut.
A faint pulse rippled through his body. Threads of warmth and static coiled beneath his skin, stirring, but never fully awakening. Then, like an echo from something far older than himself, a whisper resonated in his mind—deep, ancient, undeniable.
"[Vein System Awakening...]"
The words didn't just ring in his ears—they carved themselves into his thoughts, as if branded onto his very being. Even with his eyes closed, the information unfolded before him, not as sight, but as knowledge forced into his mind.
[STATUS]
Name: Ashley Burns
Vein: [Hybrid]
Vein Energy: 89% (300/300)
Veinflow: Initiated
Vitalforce: 5th Tier
Skills: [7]
His chest rose and fell in a slow, measured breath. The same numbers. The same locked potential. His fingers twitched against the couch, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
He exhaled, long and quiet.
Nothing had changed.
Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the quiet.
"What are you doing? We still have a lot of work to do."
Ash didn't bother opening his eyes. The impatience in that voice was familiar—too familiar.
"What do you mean? We're living here now. We can do all this later." His words came out lazy, sinking into the couch even more.
A sharp exhale followed, edged with frustration. Footsteps approached, firm and quick. Then a shadow passed over him.
"Argh, what am I going to do with you?"
Ash cracked an eye open. A young man stood over him, arms loaded with tangled wires and small devices. His black hair was a mess, save for a single red streak that cut through it like a burning ember. His sharp eyes locked onto ash, brimming with irritation.
Before he could argue further, another voice joined in, softer but carrying its own weight.
"Well, he's not wrong."
Footsteps echoed through the metallic floor. A third figure stepped into view—a young man draped in a white lab coat. His neatly combed black hair barely shifted as he walked, his movements precise, calculated. Though his face was calm, a tiredness lingered in his gaze. He carried a similar box, filled with more of the same tangled mess.
The red-streaked young man turned on him, eyes narrowing.
"Wait, you're taking his side?"
"Yeah. We can pace ourselves. We've done enough today. We can continue tomorrow."
A pause.
"If you say so."
Without hesitation, he let go of the box.
CRACK.
Wires spilled onto the floor, a mess of broken circuits and shattered plastic.
"HEY! What are you doing?!"
The man in the lab coat lurched forward, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed to the fallen box. He dropped to one knee, hands moving frantically through the mess of wires and broken circuits.
"You know I keep my stuff in there!"
His voice cracked with frustration as he lifted a shattered device, turning it over as if hoping it could somehow be fixed.
"Why would you do that?!"
Across from him, the red-streaked young man stood unfazed, arms crossed over his chest.
"Aren't you the one who said we should take a break? Just because ash was feeling a little tired?"
At the mention of his name, ash cracked an eye open. The scene played out just as he expected. His black hair, slightly disheveled from resting against the couch, fell into his vision, but he didn't bother brushing it away. No need to get involved.
The man in the lab coat groaned, pushing back his neatly combed hair in frustration.
"Ah, you broke something."
"Well, it's your fault for suggesting we rest."
He stretched his arms, already losing interest in the argument.
"Since we're continuing tomorrow, I'll be in the training room."
Without another word, he turned, his boots clicking against the floor as he strode toward an open doorway.
The man in the lab coat exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath,
"You'll pay for this."
A smirk curled on the red-streaked young man's lips. He glanced back, eyes glinting with amusement.
"I'll be in the training room if you want to pay me back."
And then, just like that, he was gone.
"That damn brat."
Max muttered under his breath as he sifted through the scattered parts, fingers carefully sorting through shattered components. A deep frown settled on his face.
From the couch, Ash let out a quiet chuckle.
"We both know how kael is."
Max sighed, shaking his head.
"Yeah. That ego of his… and the way he keeps calling himself 'Son of Flame.'"
He mimicked kael's dramatic tone, rolling his eyes.
Another sigh. This one heavier.
"I wouldn't even be stuck here if I had just won that damn bet."
Ash smirked, tilting his head slightly but keeping his eyes shut.
"I'm glad you lost."
Max narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I wouldn't want a girl on the team. Plus, you're my brother." Ash's smirk deepened. "I don't want two family members leaving on some faraway mission, leaving me behind."
Max opened his mouth, then closed it. After a pause, he let out a slow breath.
"I guess you have a point."
Setting the box aside, he dropped onto the couch next to Ash, rubbing his temples.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The steady hum of the base filled the silence.
Then Ash's voice broke the stillness.
"I'm really going to miss everyone back at the academy."
His tone was light, but the nostalgic smile creeping onto his face told a different story.
Max leaned back, resting an arm on the couch.
"Yeah, same here. But I'm stuck here babysitting you two."
Ash turned his head slightly.
"Babysitting? You lost the duel, so you're stuck with us. Thanks to your failure, I'm not that little kid from back then."
"Say whatever you want. I bet Dad will contact us soon, telling me to lead the team."
Ash let his head rest back again. His smirk never faded.
"Would you really want Kael leading?"
Max shuddered. "Hell no. I'd rather let you lead than that power-hungry freak."
Ash chuckled as Max stood, stretching out his arms.
"Well, I'll be in my new lab. Got a lot of work to do. The cave won't fix itself, and I still need to connect my PC to the system."
Ash didn't open his eyes.
"Max."
Max paused at the doorway.
"Yeah?"
A beat of silence. Then Ash spoke, voice lower, almost hesitant.
"Do you think Dad and the others will be okay up there?"
Max smirked, his tone shifting back to something confident, unwavering.
"What kind of question is that? Dad is one of the strongest people alive. He's Flame, after all."
Ash exhaled slowly. "Yeah… you're right."
Max lingered for a second longer, then stepped through the doorway, leaving Ash alone in the quiet room.
A few minutes passed. Ash exhaled slowly and pushed himself off the couch. The base remained still—smooth metallic walls, steady illumination, the hum of hidden machinery. Everything had a function. A purpose. Yet, the place felt empty.
He rolled his shoulders, shaking off the stiffness.
"Might as well eat before it gets dark."
The automatic door slid open with a soft hiss, releasing cool, processed air. The faint metallic tang mixed with something warm—food. His boots clicked softly against the floor, the only human sound in the corridor.
The kitchen door glided open. Inside, everything was sleek, efficient, and sterile. White countertops. Stainless steel storage. A kitchen bot whirred to life, assembling a meal with mechanical precision. It didn't acknowledge him. It didn't need to.
Ash didn't wait. He grabbed a ready-made meal from the storage unit and turned to leave. No greetings. No small talk. The door slid shut behind him.
"Same as always."
Tiny maintenance bots zipped past, their spindly limbs carrying tools and supplies. One scurried by with a welding torch in its grasp.
"Max must be busy."
Back in the main room, Ash sank onto the couch and unwrapped his meal. Warm rice. Protein. Bland but filling. He took slow bites, chewing absently as his mind wandered.
Since the beginning of time, Vein system had been humanity's foundation. The energy within their veins shaped civilizations, determined rulers, and decided the strong from the weak. Power was never a privilege—it was survival.
By birth, every human possessed Vitalforce, the raw essence of their strength. Those with higher-tier Vitalforce stood above others, gifted with greater potential. Training refined this power, unlocking Veinflow Stages—a clear path to dominance.
Ash? Initiate Rank. 5th Tier Vitalforce. Strong, but not enough. Never enough.
Max? Adapt Rank. 2nd Tier Vitalforce. Too weak for his age. But doesn't care because he is smart enough.
Kael? Master Rank. 6th Tier Vitalforce. A fire prodigy, constantly chasing after his father.
Ash smirked.
'He's definitely in the training room. Throwing punches. Talking to himself about power and legacy.'
He finished his meal, stretching out against the couch. His body felt heavier now, warmth settling in his limbs. The hum of the base, the faint clicking of bots, the distant drone of air vents—it all blurred together.
Beyond these walls, the world was a battlefield. Creatures older than time lurked in the ruins of forgotten cities, their hunger unending. Humanity had survived, but only because of their strength. The strong lived. The weak were devoured.
His breathing slowed.
His eyes drifted shut.
—————
Ash woke to the soft thud of footsteps echoing through the base. His eyelids fluttered open, the sterile white glow of the overhead lights easing him into consciousness. He stretched, rolling his shoulders, muscles stiff from a night spent on the couch.
The hum of machinery filled the silence. Tiny maintenance bots zipped across the floor, their metallic limbs moving with quiet efficiency. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he grabbed the empty food container beside him and tossed it into the waste chute.
Then, he froze.
Something was off.
A nagging sensation crawled up his spine, like an itch just out of reach. His fingers twitched, instinctively searching for something—something that should have been within arm's length.
His blade.
Ash pushed off the couch, his drowsiness vanishing in an instant. His gaze swept the room, tracing over the furniture, the floor, the corners where shadows stretched. Nothing.
His steps quickened as he crossed the room, checking behind the couch, beneath the table. Still nothing. His jaw tightened. He never misplaced it.
The kitchen? Unlikely. He wasn't that careless. His quarters? Maybe.
With a sharp pivot, he strode toward his room. The door slid open with a hiss, revealing a perfectly arranged space—his bed untouched, the storage locker closed, a few personal items neatly lined up on the shelf. Not a single thing out of place.
Except for his blade.
Ash exhaled through his nose, the air leaving him in a slow, controlled breath. His fingers curled at his sides. Someone had moved it.
Or worse—Kael took it.
His teeth clenched at the thought. If that idiot got his hands on it, things were about to get annoying.
"Max would know."
Ash exhaled, shifting direction toward the lab. If anyone had seen it, it was him.
The thought gnawed at him as he walked—if Kael had taken his blade, there was only one reason.
And Ash really hoped he was wrong.
He reached the lab and knocked once before stepping in. The air smelled faintly of heated metal and circuitry. Max was hunched over his workstation, fingers tapping against a glowing console, blueprints and disassembled parts scattered around him. The screens cast a cold glow over his face, but he didn't look up.
Ash didn't waste time. "Max. Have you seen my blade?"
Max's fingers paused for half a second before resuming their rhythm.
"No. Are you sure you didn't leave it back at headquarters?"
"You know I never go anywhere without it. I brought it with me."
Max leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple.
"Then where'd you last see it?"
Ash's jaw tightened.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
Max finally looked up, tilting his head slightly.
"Have you seen Kael?"
Ash shook his head. "No. Haven't run into him yet."
Max sighed, drumming his fingers against the armrest. The pieces were already falling into place. If Ash's blade was missing and Kael was nowhere to be found, there weren't many other explanations.
Still, Max decided to play along.
"If your blade isn't here and you didn't leave it behind," he said, voice deliberately casual, "you might want to check with Kael. Maybe he's seen it."
Ash's eyes narrowed.
"Right."
He turned on his heel and left, his pace quickening as he made his way to find Kael.
Ash's mind raced as he left the lab, his grip tightening at his sides. Kael wasn't in the base. No one had seen him. That left only one possibility.
The training room.
His footsteps pounded against the metal floor, each step swallowed by the empty corridors. Overhead, automated lights flickered to life, casting long, jagged shadows that stretched with his movement. The low hum of machinery followed him, steady but distant—too distant.
No murmured conversations. No quiet rustling of movement. Just silence, thick and pressing.
The door slid open with a sharp hiss. Heat rushed out like a breath held too long, wrapping around him in a suffocating wave.
The training room was a ruin of past battles. Charred walls bore deep, jagged scars, the edges still dark with soot. Glowing targets flickered weakly, some dimmed entirely, their surfaces warped from past flames. Shattered fragments of dummies lay scattered across the scorched floor, blackened and brittle. The air smelled of burnt metal and something acrid—something alive.
And at the center of it all stood Kael.
His back was to Ash, shoulders squared, head slightly tilted as if listening. Heat shimmered around him, warping the air, blurring the edges of his silhouette. Tiny flames curled at his fingertips, flaring, flickering, restless. The scorched ground beneath him cracked, thin trails of ember weaving through the fractures like veins.
Ash's gaze drifted downward. A glint of metal caught the dim light.
His blade.