“Never since before the Age of Ash had human civilization thrived so richly, indeed it seemed the world was in the midst of a golden age in what is now known as the Dawn of Cultivation. This period of relative peace and prosperity lasted from 234AA to 498AA when the death of the most powerful cultivator to ever live left much of the former Soviet lands uninhabitable and caused a 2 year famine in what is now commonly agreed to be the beginning of the Age of Glass…” -Excerpt from A History of Cultivation Volume 23

From within the rusted, ruined corpse of what once was a great building of shining steel and glass a young boy scrambled out like a rat from a pile of decayed wood. John Zhou, like most of the other children of the Jackalope Empire was never rich and privileged enough to afford a life beyond the barren wastes pockmarked with ruins and craters, nor was he large and strong enough to earn a living through manual labour. With his small stature and emaciated frame the clear path for him lay in the often short and brutal but sometimes rewarding life of a Ruin Rat. The device the sect leaders gave to him before he departed on this latest scavenging mission was clicking like crazy, and that clearly meant whatever it was it was a great cultivation aid, and thus worth far more than the usual haul of trinkets and trash. It was a strange thing, a small dull metal bar heavy for its size stamped with letters from the Old English of the former United States of America, an empire spoken of only in myths said to have spanned the entire continent and beyond before they were reduced to cinders and memory in the Age of Ash. Sometimes John wondered what life could be like in such a world, before the rule of the sects when the wonders of ages past were simply commonplace and the masses of Wretches did not have to fear the wrath and attention of the Cultivators, to him it was almost unimaginable. Zhou fought back another wave of nausea, not good, while he knew he was tougher than most of the other Rats and was surely on a higher step of the Wretch Realm clearly he had bitten off more than he could chew with this bounty! Hopefully he could make it back to the city before…

Memories of the hairless, spotted corpses of his fellow Rats thrown out carelessly into the slums flashed in his mind, brothers and sisters coughing blood and finding it in their stool, a cultivator of the Aberrant Realm taking offence to the mere existence of an unfortunate Wretch laughing with two mouths as he watched the skin melt from his victim’s form, the husks that remained of overeager Aspirants who failed to overcome the tribulations of ascending to the Mutant Realm and joining the ranks of the Sect Cultivators…

It was almost too much to bear thinking about. Gritting his teeth even as he tasted iron Zhou wrapped his precious cargo under layers of clothing hoping it would delay its effects until he could afford to visit an apothecary for suppressant pills. It was then when he heard a laugh from behind him and his blood turned to ice, whoever it was he had not even heard their approach. Slowly Zhou allowed himself to turn and came face to face with a girl who couldn’t have been more than maybe 3 or 4 years his senior, and yet with her leathery skin utterly lacking in any pigment, razor sharp claws that hung from enlarged hands, blood red eyes that seemed like rubies set in her skull and fang lined grin marked her as well into the Mutant Realm. The dull crescent shaped sigil of lead on her breast marked her as a Young Mistress of the Lead Cave Sect… and she was easily the most beautiful thing John had ever seen in his roughly 12 years of existence. She looked at his doubtless dumbfounded expression and laughed in amusement,

“My father sent me to collect whatever the Ruin Rat dragged out of that pit from the fingers of his corpse, and yet here he is in what seems like fine enough health to me!” the girl said with a giggle apparently more to herself than anything, “What is your name little Rat?”

“J…John Zhou m…mistress!” John managed to shakily declare,

“No need to be so formal John, please call me Cobalt, Cobalt Phagos of the Lead Cave sect!” the girl now identified as Cobalt chortled, running a clawed finger on the bundle of clothes in his shaking arms,

“Mi- Cobalt what are you-” John stammered before being shushed by an amused Cobalt,

“You have done well surviving so far but any longer and surely you would not live much longer if you insist on holding onto that thing! Let your Senior Sister take care of it, and try not to die before the week is out or I will be very disappointed!” Cobalt chided as she gingerly took the artefact from John’s arms into her own clawed hands.

John tried to say something… anything at all really but before he could have the chance Cobalt vanished before his eyes moving with inhuman speed. All that was left on the floor was a pile of money, more than John had ever seen before in one place in his life.

John fought the urge to vomit once more, but this time he had a distinctly unfamiliar tingle in his chest as well. He promised himself he would get stronger and one day find Cobalt to give her his thanks… this time not as a mere Rat but as an equal. John fixed his gaze to the heavens and even as he felt ready to collapse at any moment his steps were filled with a renewed sense of purpose.

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The money he had been given had been enough to buy a new life in the cities but a fire had been lit in John's heart now, and even in his dreams he saw the path to the Heavens! The Supervisor looked at him like he went crazy when he first heard of John's ambition, and maybe he had, for the path of the cultivator was that tread by madmen and the suicidal. When he first shambled out of the medical tent maybe four or five months ago now, sores still weeping and the sides of his mouth caked with dried vomit and blood, he remembered the questions everyone had asked him the moment he declared his intention to keep diving,

"You have enough to never come back here again, so why aren't you in the city?" Jamie had asked chewing at a bit of unidentifiable meat jerky

"I don't get it, more than half of everyone who tries to get into the sect ends up dead, even before the Great Famine none of us have ever made it through the first trial! What makes you think you can do better?" Oliver had yelled in worry more than anything else,

And of course the Supervisor, a three armed man from the Sect who only accepted his title to refer to him, the closest thing John had to a father since his parents starved to death 5 years ago,

"I don't think you really understand what you want, get some sleep kid, we'll talk more tomorrow…”

That had stung almost as much as the look of defeat on the Supervisor's face when he realised he couldn't convince him otherwise.

By now a full half of the money had been spent on various treatments, ointment pills, while that didn't stop his hair from falling out in clumps nor did it prevent the bouts of vomiting foul black blood it had kept him alive so far, and really alive was good enough considering the risks he had been taking as of late. Currently he was maybe 10 or so hours into a 4 hour scouting expedition, his supplies were effectively nonexistent and really he should have turned back long ago but something indescribable at the back of his mind seemed to be pushing him forward through the unknown. Finding a particularly small gap that probably led to an as of yet unmapped region of the subterranean ruin John got on his belly and began to crawl deeper into the belly of the carcass of steel gripping his lantern in his teeth.

The gap was incredibly narrow, more narrow than an adult could surely fit into, but to the slim form of John it was just barely manageable. Moving forward inch by agonising inch even as he felt rust and rubble scrape into his skin John kept pushing forward until he reached an open space which would have been completely pitch black if not for the small light he held in his jaw. It seemed to be a hallway that was so long and wide John wondered how such a large section of the ruin had gone untouched for so long. The sounds of dozens of scurrying feet interrupted the silence and a cacophony of screeching froze him in his tracks, as he turned around his light revealed a mass of feral rodents about as tall as he was and maybe four times as wide, a Screeching Swarm! John let out a scream prompting an equally loud screech from the swarm before running down the hallway, the swarm quite literally biting at his ankles as he ran half blindly into the unknown. Finding a room with what appeared to be a functional door John forced open the ancient block of metal just barely enough for him to fit through the gap it created and shut it right as the bulk of the swarm slammed into it with enough force to dent it. The swarmlings that got trapped in the room with John screeched in a panic as they struggled to rejoin their swarm, forgetting their prey as they attempted to claw and chew their way back to the rest of their family, it would be almost pitiful if not for the fact they tried to kill him moments earlier. The small light John had gripped the entire way started to flicker, in minutes he would soon be left in complete darkness and with the swarm on the other side of the door he did not fancy his chances in the pitch darkness. John was left with two choices, starve alone and unmourned… or see what else lied ahead in the darkness. A clump of hair fell off John’s head as he idly sat there catching his breath and contemplating his life reminding him of the path he had chosen to walk, a peaceful death did not fit the legend of a cultivator…

The light finally flickered its last and died with a whimper but still John stumbled his way to his feet and felt his way forward through the darkness. In just about all paths ahead lay death, but the way of the cultivator was to choose your own fate, and he chose to at least die standing. Feeling his way across the wall John accidentally flipped some sort of switch filling the room with a light that seemed blinding to eyes now adjusted to the pitch black illuminating rows upon rows of strange machines covered with a weird red moss. John couldn’t help but audibly gasp in wonder, he had explored many ruins but this is the first time he had seen one light up like this, and there were more relics down here than he had ever seen before in his life! While he wasn’t likely to make it out past the Swarm he could at least feel thankful that he had seen something that doubtless had not had human eyes upon it for centuries, truly he could die happy if this was the last thing that he ever saw…

Carelessly Zhou ran a hand across one of the relics and felt a searing pain like none he had ever experienced before in his life rip through him, as though his very nerves had come to life and were straining against his skin. The last thing he saw before passing out from the agony was his arm consumed by plates of metal and fleshy tendrils burrowing into his skin,

[INITIALISING…]

Tendrils burrowed lazily through flesh hooking into nerves

[HOST COMPATIBILITY 89%: COMPATIBILITY SUFFICIENT, ARTOS ONLINE]

Metal shifted and pulsed, the flesh underneath melting under the influence of ancient technology

[POWER RESERVES 1.2%... ADAPTING NEW POWER SOURCE… NEW SOURCE ESTABLISHED]

Something within John Zhou ignited, a stockpile of poison slowly killing him ignited by a stray spark into a nascent flame

[PROCESSING INFORMATION…]

A primitive intelligence dormant for well over half a millennium began to stir

[PROCESSING…]