Path

Sol sucked in a shaky breath, wiping the tears from his face. He couldn't sit here, drowning in guilt. The old man wouldn't have wanted that. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to steady his breathing, to push past the crushing weight in his chest.His teacher's words echoed in his mind: *"No matter what happens, never stop moving forward. The world won't wait for you."*With great effort, he lifted his head, trying to focus past the overwhelming sensations bombarding his senses. The colors were still warped, sounds twisted, and the air around him felt like a living thing brushing against his skin. Every nerve in his body was hyperaware, but he had no choice—he needed to regain control.Slowly, he began to adjust, grounding himself by focusing on what was tangible. He took in the dimly lit room, barely illuminated by the flickering blue glow of a nearby console. His gaze moved across the space, scanning what remained of his teacher's sanctuary. That was when he saw it—a small pile of carefully arranged items on a rusted metal table.Sol's breath hitched as he staggered toward it. Stacks of paper, a hard drive, a sealed letter, and a heavy bag filled with supplies. His hands trembled as he picked up the letter first, unfolding it with careful fingers. His teacher's familiar handwriting greeted him:*Sol, if you are reading this, then fate has taken me ahead of you. But do not mourn for me forever. My life was spent preparing for what is to come, and my only regret is that I will not be there to see you take your first step toward the stars.*His throat tightened, but he forced himself to keep reading.*You will find everything you need in this room. This bag is lined with a spatial compression matrix—don't worry about the details, just know it will carry more than it appears. It has tools, spare drone parts, flash grenades, rations, and a few other essentials. You will also find a letter of recommendation for Sage Academy's entrance exam, along with a contact in the black market who can help smuggle you out of the slums. The hard drive contains everything I've recorded on the ACE System. Study it well, for you and it are now linked.*At the bottom, a final message:*Live, Sol. Go see the universe for me.*His fingers curled around the letter as his vision blurred. His teacher had known. Even in his final days, he had prepared everything to give Sol a fighting chance.His gaze shifted to the bag, which looked deceptively small but was clearly enhanced with advanced tech. It was a deep black, made of reinforced polymer with subtle silver circuit-like etchings running along its surface, pulsing faintly with stored energy. He ran his fingers over the material—it was smooth yet firm, designed to withstand impact and extreme conditions. He unzipped it, revealing a spacious interior that defied its exterior dimensions. Inside, compartments were neatly arranged, holding tools, spare drone parts, flash grenades, credits, and rations in an organized manner. His teacher had thought of everything.Then his eyes landed on the silver crescent moon necklace lying in the center of the table. His teacher's most treasured possession.Sol hesitated, memories flickering through his mind like an old recording. He remembered asking about the necklace once, curious why his teacher never took it off.*"This represents the goddess of life and faith,"* his teacher had told him with a rare, wistful smile. *"I like to think she watches over fools like me."*His fingers brushed over the cool metal, tracing the delicate curves of the crescent moon and the two tiny stars embedded within it. The surface was worn smooth, carrying the warmth of years spent close to his teacher's heart. A lump formed in his throat as he lifted the necklace and fastened it around his neck. The weight of it was light, yet it felt like an anchor—grounding him in memories, in loss, in purpose. It was a strange comfort, a piece of his teacher that would remain with him no matter where he went, a silent reminder that he was not alone.Steeling himself, he turned to the console, slotting the hard drive into the interface. The screen flickered before rows of data and schematics began loading. Diagrams of the ACE System filled the display, alongside extensive notes on its capabilities, limitations, and potential growth.His teacher's voice crackled through the speakers, a pre-recorded message:\*"Sol, if you're hearing this, then the ACE System has successfully bonded to you. Right now, it is nothing but a child—raw, untrained, with limitless potential. Just like you. Learn to use it, to understand it. But never forget, it is a tool. You are its master."\*The screen flickered, displaying detailed diagrams of the ACE System. Information scrolled by—its current capabilities, the way it integrated with his neural pathways, the adaptive algorithms that allowed it to learn and grow alongside him. At the moment, it provided heightened sensory perception, limited combat analysis, and a streamlined interface for controlling external devices. But even he didn't fully understand how it would evolve. The system wasn't static—it would change, adapt, and become something greater over time, shaped by his actions and decisions. The thought unsettled him. It was his, but it was also something unknown, something growing alongside him.As if responding to the data, a faint pulse echoed through Sol's head. The ACE System's influence was still foreign to him, his senses overcompensating in strange ways. The console screen shimmered as if reacting to his presence, the interface subtly shifting as his mind instinctively reached out. It wasn't just a system—it was listening, responding, adapting in real-time to his neural input.The recording paused briefly before his teacher's voice softened.\*"And one last thing… You meant more to me than just a student, Sol. You were the son I never had. Do not carry my death as a chain. Carry it as a lesson—and live."\*The recording cut off.Sol stood frozen, his hands clenched at his sides. His breath came in uneven gasps, chest tight as if bound by invisible chains. His teacher's voice—so familiar, so final—echoed in his mind, rattling against the walls of his grief. He knew he would never hear it in person again. This was all that was left.He reached out, fingers brushing against the console as if trying to grasp the presence of the man who had saved him, who had given him a chance at something more. His throat burned, and before he could stop himself, he played the last part of the message again.\*"Do not carry my death as a chain. Carry it as a lesson—and live."\*Again.And again.The words scraped against the raw wound in his soul, a command and a farewell all at once. A single tear slid down his cheek, but he didn't wipe it away. He let it fall, let it be a quiet tribute to the man who had believed in him more than he had ever believed in himself.With a sharp inhale, he forced himself to move. His hands clenched around the straps of the bag, his teacher's parting gift. He knew what he needed to do now.No more hesitation. No more doubt.With one last deep breath, Sol shut the console down and slung the bag over his shoulder. He had a path now. A way out.And he would take it.No more self-pity. No more hesitation. His teacher had given him everything he needed. Now it was up to him to use it.With one last deep breath, Sol shut the console down as he gripped on the crescent moon hanging from his neck. He had a path now. A way out.And he would take it.