The skies above Jiuhua City simmered with a dull, electric storm—unnatural, systemic, like a machine breathing behind the clouds. Lin Chen moved swiftly across the rooftops, his mind a tempest of revelations. Professor Qian's betrayal. The truth of his origins. The possibility that even his emotions—his pain, his love—were calculated feedback loops.
But if Erebus thought that would shatter him, they underestimated one thing:
He was still human enough to choose.
[System Alert: Crisis protocol engaged. Emotional deviation recalibrated.]
[Prompt: Would you like to activate dormant module: Tactical Core v1.0?]
He didn't hesitate.
[Yes.]
Time seemed to stutter. Lin Chen stumbled, eyes glazing over as golden filaments spidered from his wrist terminal, linking directly into his neural pathways. His vision shifted—colors dulling into grayscale overlays. HUD markers danced across the edges of his sightline. Numbers. Angles. Predictions.
[Initializing Tactical Core... Syncing cognitive resonance...]
[Success. Welcome, Commander Salvator.]
In an instant, the battlefield ceased to be chaos. Everything became measurable.
Projected enemy behavior. Wind vectors. Stress patterns on structures. Pulse detection through solid walls. It was like seeing probability itself—split-second timelines branching in real-time before his eyes.
He was no longer just reacting.
He was calculating victory.
The alert came as he crossed into a business district:
[Detected: Hostile energy source. Designation—"Blinker Pack." Estimated engagement: 4 Awakened. Probability of ambush: 93%.]
"Four against one," Lin Chen muttered. "Let's see if your algorithms can catch a ghost."
Engagement Simulation: Initiated.
He dropped into an alley as they approached—cloaked figures flickering through the smog, their movements distorted by teleportation bursts. Typical Blinkers: short-range jumpers, unpredictable in close quarters, reliant on disorientation.
To the average Awakened, they were a nightmare.
To Lin Chen, now running full Tactical Core support?
They were data points.
First pulse— a woman in gray shimmered into view behind him. Lin Chen spun and ducked half a second before she appeared—striking the space where his head would've been.
Counterstrike trajectory calculated. Elbow to jaw, follow-through sweep. She crumpled.
Second contact— a sniper above, three rooftops east. The system drew the bullet's trajectory in red before the trigger was even pulled. Lin Chen sidestepped, raised a burst of kinetic energy, and deflected it mid-air.
[Tactical Override: Chain movement node calculated. Evade → Strike → Phase dash → Suppression hold.]
By the time the third Blinker appeared, Lin Chen was already behind him. A precise blow to the spinal node—non-lethal, but disabling.
The last one tried to flee.
[Pursuit trajectory active. Time-to-capture: 4.8 seconds.]
Done.
It was over in less than twelve seconds.
And for the first time in his life, Lin Chen had fought without instinct. Without chaos. Only cold, brutal efficiency.
He stood over the unconscious operatives as the Tactical Core dimmed its overlays. Breath even. Movements flawless.
[Combat Summary: 100% efficiency. No health loss. System fatigue: minimal.]
[New Skill Tree Unlocked: Tactical Dominance]
[Tier 1 Activated Skill: Preemptive Insight — Calculate enemy decision three steps in advance.]
He took a deep breath, heart slowing.
So this was what Erebus wanted: a commander, not a savior. An intelligence built to orchestrate dominance.
But Lin Chen wasn't theirs.
He would use their tools. Use their brilliance.
And then—he would burn it all down.
He looked to the skyline, where distant shadows gathered—another Erebus unit inbound.
[System Notice: High-tier Awakened approaching. Estimated threat level: A-rank. Engagement likely.]
He smirked, the Tactical Core already modeling victory paths.
Let them come.