Astra, the primordial particle. A hundred thousand billion times smaller than even the smallest quantum particle. The Big Bang unleashed absolutely massive quantities of Astra into fledgling universe, and even more is created every second.
Tradition has called it everything from Yuan Qi to Mana. When science first found evidence of it, it was simply called the A-Particle. The Alpha Particle. In Galactic society however, it’s simply known as Astra.
Astra is the source of everything. It creates matter and energy. And as the various beings stepped forth from their planets and into the galaxy at large, they learned to harness Astra. As a power source. As a material. And for cultivation.
The cultivation of Astra means to return to purity, leaving behind everything in return for immortality and the power to break free of the universal laws. The power to bend or break the rules of physics. The power to be free.
- Galactic Reliquary, Astra Introduction.
A low groan echoed within a dark space. A slight twitch in the darkness, and the fluttering of eyes. A heavy feeling rested upon Jordan’s shoulders as if a mountain were pressing him down. The feeling disappeared a few moments later as he suddenly snapped back into consciousness, drawing in a deep breath.
For a moment there, he wish he hadn’t done so however. The air is heavy with the thick smell of dust and rubble, and slightly tanged with acrid smoke. Jordan recognized the smell almost instantly, a vivid memory of the bubbling fluid that once surrounded his body that froze him into the capsule he’d been sealed into.
Even though it was so many years ago, the memory still hung vividly in his mind. In fact, as his brain started to catch up with what was going on, he realized that all of his memories are as vivid as if they had just happened. Even the ones he’d long forgotten, or pushed into the back of his mind are as vivid as pictures taken by a holo-cam.
“Ah…” He tries to mutter after being startled awake by that revelation, but he soon finds that his mouth is parched, and his throat is so dry that whatever he was trying to say came out as a croak. In fact, now the rest of his body was sending him an assortment of signals and feelings, causing him to twitch uncomfortable.
If it weren’t for the numbness that comes after a long, deep sleep, it’s likely that he’d feel quite uncomfortable, even pained. More than that though, there’s a heaviness to his limbs that he’s unaccustomed to. This though doesn’t surprise him however, given everything that comes pouring to the forethoughts of his mind.
The Plan. His bid for freedom. His desire for revenge.
Just thinking about it causes a deep burning flame to erupt within his guts, and he cannot stop himself from gritting his teeth in wanton desire. But after a moment he calms down, and instead turns his attention to his situation. Especially once he focuses his eyes on the stone wall in front of him.
He’s literally in a hole. A pit. A pit carved out just barely bigger than his body. The pit is smooth, and yet it isn’t flat. Instead, the walls and floor look as if they’d been made with running hot wax, curved and wavy and strange. Alien in a way. And yet he recognizes the marks as the rivulets of the massive corrosive power of his body in its desperate need for materials.
He’d seen the same thing in the virtual world, while he was experimenting with biogenic materials. Experimenting to make it a reality. A side-effect of some of the genetic samples he used to construct the biogenic constructs.
His, Jordan Lockes’, biogenics are not just simply one part machine and one part living creature. He’d gone far beyond that. It isn’t cybernetic either. He’d literally taken spliced DNA and melded it into a non-living matrix to give it life. Hundreds and thousands of different creatures had been taken, spliced, diced, and mutilated to extract the very best from them.
The entire mainframe of the Concordant Prison had been opened to his endeavors, and he used every bit of his backdoor access to do so. Out here in the void between galaxies, the prison had facilities that’d seem right at home in any town, city, or university in the galaxy. It was mainly to keep the Guards from becoming bored, but also used in the construction of the inmates’ virtual worlds.
For Jordan though, it gave him all the research materials he needed. Across the entire galaxy, there are hundreds of billions of planets with all sorts of life on them. Even more so found on moons and deep inside asteroids. There are even Star Beasts that are capable of living inside of stars themselves! It’s an area of massive study, and the most unusual or powerful are often caught and captured to undergo genetic sampling and psychological surveys.
All of that data was at his fingertips for centuries. He used everything he could. Within his virtual world, he’d run experiments that’d label him as a heretic, a villain, if he’d done so in the outside world. All for this end result.
To give himself a body after death.
He soon tosses those thoughts into the back of his head as he grunts and tries to move his newly acquired body. Like a baby, he felt weak and disoriented, but at the same time oddly excited. All the same though, he also felt empty. And more than just having an empty stomach.
It only takes him a moment to realize that he has very little energy at all. The transformation that rapidly grew this body of his had consumed truly astonishing amounts of energy, both in raw power and Astra. It had sucked away the entirety of his cultivation base all the way down to the foundations, as well as the cultivation of every prisoner within the prison as well. It still wasn’t enough.
That said, he’s able to assimilate to the new feelings of this body very quickly. Fingers and toes, ankles and wrists, elbows and knees, shoulders and hips. Bit by bit he squirms and wiggles, grasping at the way this body is constructed. It’s like learning how to get use to a new body after being turned into an animal. Or another person, for that matter. Strange and yet also kinda familiar.
He hadn’t turned himself into an animal however. Not even a beast, or a demon. The human form, even after countless eons, is still the most balanced and perfect. The articulation of the skeleton and ligaments, the muscles and balance are all supreme. It isn’t about raw strength or special physiques, but the way it all works together in a singular whole. The human body has more potential than any other form ever found.
It’s why both Star Beasts and Demonkind are both able to transform into humans once they reach a high enough cultivation. It could be considered the pentacle form. An absolute that hasn’t changed. Which is why Jordan never bothered to change it while carrying forward his plans. It made things a bit easier and familiar for him.
Within only half an hour, he was able to use his newly acquired body as he pleased. Even within the limited space, twisting and turning were no problem. Neither was squatting or jumping. The only downside was simply how weak he felt. But that was a secondary issue. The main one was getting out of this hole he’d literally dug for himself.
Climbing out proves to be one of the hardest things he’s ever done. Without any Astra to support himself, all he could rely upon was his own physical strength and endurance. Sadly, those two things are really lacking at the moment. Which meant he fell. Several times.
He’d climb, then fall. Get up and climb again. Then fall. Each time he’d make it a bit higher, and then fall back down, grunting out in pain as he hits the hard rock in the bottom of the hole. His naked body, which had previously already been covered in streaks of muck and dust is now completely covered. Mixed with his sweat, it’s an even more outrageous crusting of shit.
Yet at the same time, there isn’t a bruise on him. Nor does he bleed, cough up blood, or anything. For a normal person, repeatedly being slammed into the ground in such a way would have messed up their insides and caused broken bones, if not worse injuries. But none of that happens to Jordan.
Instead each fall just makes him get up faster, his dark eyes burning almost with rage. This hole, which had formed because of him, had become his first challenge in this world. He wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. That anger gave him the strength to climb again and again, working his way up.
By the time he reached the top, and was able to pull himself precariously back into the capsule, he was able to climb like a monkey. Jumping from handhold and foothold to another, worming his way up like a beast. Even though his body screamed and his muscles swelled up from abuse, he didn’t stop or slow down at all.
Only once he’s able to stand freely within the otherwise empty capsule is he able to stop and bend forward, panting for breath. His body is absolutely filthy, but he doesn’t even care to notice. He’d finally made it out of that damned hole in the earth.
“Unbelievable. To think my rebirth would leave me so weak…” He finally manages to mutter to himself, his voice cracked from dryness. All he can do though is shake his head at his idle thoughts.
He still had thought this might happen, so it wasn’t beyond the scope of his plans. It did make things a bit harder though. More so when his stomach gives a sudden gurgling noise, which causes Jordan to make an awkward face before patting his belly. Looks like he’ll need food here soon too.
That said, such things are not too much further away. First however, his dark gaze quickly scans across the broken, and empty suspended animation capsule. Previously a smooth and high-tech piece of machinery, it is now badly damaged. Even the entirety of the cryogenic ice has melted or sublimated into oblivion.
Jordan doesn’t feel even a hint of regret about it. This place was a living hell for him, so he has no compunctions about having destroyed it. In a way, the capsule had given him back a life. A repayment for the one that had been taken away from him.
The only downside though is that it’s so damaged that he cannot help the capsules door from the inside. The original manual opening system was totally ruined, thus sealing the thick poly-sapphire door closed. He could see out of the clear glass-like door and into the small cell beyond, but he couldn’t get out as others would have been able to.
It is a little disheartening, but not completely so. Turning around, a slight smirk crosses his thin and rather pale lips as he sees the hole carved into the back of the capsule. It’s time to test something which he hadn’t been able to yet.
Jordan reaches out, using one hand to balance himself to avoid falling into the hole in the floor while his other hand presses into the hole created in the back of the capsule. Exposed electronics, wiring, and tubes of all kinds can be seen inside of the capsule. His hand grabs at the wiring, twisting his fingers into them without a hint of hesitation.
Several of the wires and cables are missing their insulating plastic or polymers, leaving them exposed. If it weren’t for the failsafe systems built into the capsule itself, it is likely such exposed bits would have turned the capsule into a death trap, or worse. For Jordan though, it simply gave him the perfect way to get the access he needs.
As his human-like hand comes in contact with the wiring, a single thought causes his hand to turn from the color of living human flesh into the same black and green veined construct of the original biogenics. Looking completely inhuman within that human shape, even he lets out a breath full of air at the sight of it.
It doesn’t stop the wide grin that spreads across his lips though. In fact, it makes him incomparably excited. Jordan had worked hard to give himself this ability, first in order to keep his human look so as not to rouse suspicion. And second to be able to do just what he’s about to.
His contact to the wiring causes the capsule to register the new access, and he cannot help but shudder as the computer system built into the machine tries to access his body. It is definitely a weird feeling, feeling the electrical impulses of computer programming in the flesh. It was like Morse Code being transmitted up his arm and into his brain. More than that, his body innately provides the translation, even without him having to think about it.
In a way, you could consider this to be one of the key abilities of a biogenic system. Part machine, part living being; the entire body is like a massive computer in and of itself. Each part is interconnected to every other part, creating a dense neural web far more sophisticated than even the most advanced quantum computer. The processing speed is tremendous.
Of course, the drawback is the massive power requirements. Which Jordan is sorely lacking in at the moment. Even still, with the bare minimum of energy, his body still functions at several time the innate speed of other computers. More energy though would let him achieve feats that others cannot do, even with far higher cultivation levels.
Throwing those thoughts into the back of his mind for now, Jordan closes his eyes and sends a response to the capsules’ built in computer, queuing up access to its still functioning systems. Within moments he has access, and nods to himself as he quickly scans through all the information that is transmitted back to him.
The reason why such suspended animation capsules are so expensive is because of all the safety measures built into them. Galactic society on the whole is a ‘nanny state’, in which there are safety measures in everything. Backup power systems, life support systems, reinforced structural armoring. All sorts of things like that are built into just about every consumer product on the market.
In truth, it’s simple when you think about it. Galactic citizens are several times stronger, and much better educated than their non-Galactic counterparts. Their productivity is hundreds or even thousands of times greater than those of isolated planets that have yet to reach out to the stars. A single Galactic citizen can produce the resources of hundreds of thousands, due to their training and massively advanced equipment.
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That sort of subsidized productivity is a massive boom for Galactic society as a whole. On the other hand, it’s also a massive investment. Even a One Star citizen is treated far better than all but the highest echelons of non-Galactic governments or corporations. So they have to be protected. Thus all these safety features are common place.
On the other hand, it also means that everything is really expensive. This balances out the general productivity of the masses, because they make more credits. Even out in the galaxy at large, money in the form of credits has power. And if you have credits to spend, then you naturally have power to wield.
None of that means anything to Jordan at the moment, but it does give him the ability to break out of this prison. He’s quickly able to write bypasses for the servos and actuators of the sealed door, basically overloading them, and after a quick check, he activates them.
A loud squealing hiss and the tearing of metal echoes into the confined space of the capsule, causing him to to flinch a little with a grimace. At the same time, the door behind him is nearly blown off as the sudden rush of power jerks it forward even as new smoke begins to fill the inside of the capsule as well as the outside space. The smell of burning metal, plastics, and other materials adds to the already rather ghastly smells present.
The capsule shudders only moments later though, as the safety systems cut power and respond to the sudden damage. Around the seal of the now-opened door foam starts to bubble up, putting out the small electrical fires which had started up inside the capsule itself. Just another example of how things work in this day and age.
That doesn’t bother Jordan at all as he happily erases the evidence of his intrusion into the capsules’ systems, then pulls back his hand. His hand quickly returns to its original human appearance, but a slight act is transmitted up his arm which causes him to wave his hand a bit to make the feeling pass. His first attempt at direct access was a success, but it seems it is something he’ll have to get use to before the feeling becomes natural.
Beyond that though, he’s now really free. Turning around, he jumps out of the capsule and into the cramped space of the small cell with a wide grin on his lips. If his throat wasn’t so parched, he’d probably be laughing like a madman right now.
Unlike the capsule door, which is sealed to keep the inmates in in case they are thawed except for emergencies, the door in the cell room is only simple steel with a lock. A lock which is easily broken with a rough twist. Due to being almost inside the planet’s core, Concordant Prison doesn’t have artificial gravity, so such things as sealing bulkheads for individual rooms aren’t used. Most of the infrastructure is what you’d find inside of any planet-based building.
Jordan’s next goal is nearby as well, a guard station. Stepping out into the corridor, he stops and leans back his head, breathing deeply of the far cleaner air. He actually takes a few moments to relish the freedom, before closing the door to his cell behind him. He doesn’t even bother to look back.
The guard station is some two hundred feet down the wide corridor, but his walk is surprisingly swift, thus reaching it within moments. This time though the door is locked via a handpad mounted on the wall. It isn’t a problem, but it does take a moment for the pad to scan his hand print when he places his hand on it.
Jordan had long ago secretly placed his credentials in the prison’s systems. As an executive administrator, his actions go un-logged as well. There will be no warnings or note taken during his actions. Still, he cannot push his luck overmuch in that area. No doubt with everything that has happened, the technicians and guards are tearing the prison’s computer systems apart trying to find out what happened.
They have probably also called in for reinforcements from the Concordant Council. It’s even likely that news of the prison’s failure has spread as well. Trying to cover up the reported death of the entire inmate population will be nearly impossible, even with the Council’s power and leverage.
The chaos is what Jordan wants though, so he has no reason or interest in intervening. He’ll only go so far as to cover his own tracks. By the time they manage to realize that he’d actually escaped instead of dying, he should be long gone. Should being the key word there.
The guard station he steps into once the door slides open is more like a mini-barracks than a anything else. A self-enclosed, self-sufficient area that can support up to fifty people. Many of the guards who were previously trapped were able to the ones nearest them, thus saving their lives when the power failed earlier.
The room is a long rectangle, separated into different areas by walls of poly-sapphire that’s shaded to allow only partial vision between the divisions. This is to ensure privacy, while also allowing everyone to keep tabs on everyone else. The design however is rather drab and dull. Then again, that’s what happens when such rooms are designed and produced by the lowest bidder. Government work at its finest.
Still, the guard station has showers, bunks, and lockers full of clothing, equipment, and more importantly, food. It’s also secure, and has a terminal that is linked directly to the prisons’ control center. Once inside, Jordan doesn’t even bother to hesitate as he hits the locking override, basically sealing himself inside. Only himself or another administrator can undo the override and open the door.
‘Well, first things first’. The thought brings a slight smile to Jordan’s lips as he rushes headlong into the room, throwing open lockers and chests set at the foot of the bunks. His dark eyes easily scan over the food, personal affects, hygiene products and clothing that he finds. He pulls out some of them, along with a metal cup, and makes a bee-line for the showers.
Now that he’s out of his cell, his own stench is more than enough to cause him a certain amount of distress. Even the clean air is breaths is thick with the smell of himself. The fact that he’s also butt-ass naked doesn’t help one bit. Plus he can always drink from the shower, so it isn’t like he cannot multitask while taking care of his needs.
Even in the virtual world, one of his few luxuries were the hot showers and spa-like lounging he’d done during his sparse down time. That and the hundreds of thousands of hours of Galactic TV drama shows he’d watched, streamed from the prisons’ databanks. The same shows and programs the guards and other staff watch to pass the time. It helped keep him up to date for the most part, although things have changed only slowly during the two hundred and fifty some odd years he’s been in captivity.
The showers don’t have a door, but that doesn’t stop him from turning on three side-by-side shower heads, filling the room and the guard station itself with steam. He isn’t even bothered by the scalding hot water that he fills in the cup he grabbed as he drinks it in big, wanton gulps. The pure, clean water entering his body is like a tonic that causes him to feel very relaxed and comfortable.
In truth, his new body is basically in starvation mode. It isn’t just the lack of energy, but also the lack of resources and nutrients that has culminated in the weakened state that Jordan finds himself in. Especially the lack of water. There was very little moisture in the capsule, and even less in the rock beneath. This far into the planet's core, there was literally no water to be found. It had all been evaporated out when the core was still molten millions of years ago.
All the water that had been taken in during the formation of his body had almost all gone to creating his blood flow. Which is admittedly more like soup than blood. Thick and viscous, heavy and hard to pump through his veins. Now with a nearly endless supply being guzzled down his throat, his body is able to quickly assimilate it and balance things out properly.
If he were a regular human, the dehydration he’d been dealing with this entire time would have killed him long before he became conscious. One could almost call it a miracle. Still, for even a low-ranked Star Fighter, going for a week without drink isn’t an issue.
Now though, he quenches his thirst and starts to scrub himself clean. The cleaning supplies available are all rather low quality, and lack the sweet fragrances and gentleness of civilian consumer types, but it does the job with rapid efficiency, while also peeling off a layer of skin at the same time. It doesn’t stop him from using the long handled brushes to reach every inch of his skin, including his bald head though.
Only once he’s dirt-free and feeling as shiny as a newly minted coin does he turn off the shower and stretches with a low groan. Jordan could almost say that he’s feeling lazy and content now, except for the gurgling of his belly. Stepping out of the shower while grabbing a towel off the wall rack, he wraps it around his waist and freely drips the water flowing off of him onto the cold stone metal floor as he makes his way toward where the food is stored.
Just like any military camp, the food in storage here are pre-packaged individual meals. On Old Earth, such things were called MRE’s, and even here in Galactic space things haven’t changed all that much. The food is far better though, and with a squeeze he breaks the heat crystal put into each of the packs, allowing them to be warmed up for consumption.
Jordan had grabbed ten of the MRE’s, and tosses them onto a nearby bunk which he soon flops onto himself. The mattress is thin and coated in a pliable plastic that doesn’t require any sheets, but it’s comfy enough that he doesn’t care at the moment. Half a minute later the food is ready, and he tears open the first pack without even checking to see what it is. The utensils are inside, so he grabs a fork and digs in.
One meal, two, three. With a crazy, ravenous hunger, he eats all ten of the MRE’s he’d grabbed within only minutes, and ends up having to get up to get more. But even after twenty his stomach still doesn’t seem full. Ugh. Even he cannot help but grimace as he pats his belly.
This time when he gets up he doesn’t just grab more MRE’s, but also moves to the medical supplies. It takes him a little bit to find what he’s hunting for, but soon enough he pulls out several vials filled with pills that seem to shine dully in the dim overhead light of the guard station.
Commonly known as Soldier Pills, these are a dietary supplement used by soldiers in combat when they don’t have time to eat regularly. Each pill holds a full day’s worth of nutrients and calories. At least for those at low cultivation levels. Upon reaching the medium ranks of Astra cultivation, a person has to consume vastly more nutrients than a regular citizen. At the high levels that becomes unnecessary, as the cultivators body starts to consume Astra itself.
For Jordan though, these pills should clear up the deficiencies of his body. At least for the time being. So while scarfing down this round of food from the MRE’s, he also chews on the soldier pills like candies. Soon enough several empty vials and more than forty empty MRE packs are left scattered on the bunk and on the floor around it.
Only now does he feel full, his body buzzing with energy and strength. A content smile rests upon his lips, and for several long minutes his eyes half-close as he leans back on his arms, just relishing the feeling. How long has it been since he’d felt this way? He doesn’t even remember. Eating in the virtual world isn’t the same, cause it really does nothing but taste good. It never really made him feel full or satisfied.
Still, he’d eaten enough for an entire squad of guards in one go, and thus had seriously drained the supplies available within the guard station. That doesn’t include all the pills he’d munched his way through, which would have killed any normal soldier several times over. In fact their bodies would have swollen up and exploded into a bloody mist if they even tried.
Not to mention the fact that just one meal for him cost the equivalent of nearly a thousand credits. Just thinking about it makes Jordan shudder a bit. Once he gets out of here, the cost of living is going to be massive. That’s assuming that he refines the pills for himself. If not, then things are going to cost even more. It’s a problem he’ll have to deal with once he gets the hell out of this prison. It isn’t outside of his expectations, but it is a tad worrisome at the start.
Now though isn’t the time to think about such things. Instead, there are two more things on the agenda. Actually three, if you want to be honest about it. But the third can wait for a while. In fact it has to wait. If he acts too quickly or rashly, even with all of his preparations, someone somewhere may be able to catch a sign of his activities, which wouldn’t be a good thing at all.
Even with his far more powerful body, going against the Concordant Guards by himself would be suicide. The guards aren’t your run-of-the-mill Star Fighter cultivators. They are specially trained, prepared, and supplemented soldiers trained to be able to detain the inmates of Concordant Prison themselves. Quite literally second only to the Black Guard which protects the Concordant Council. Even the guards with the lowest cultivation are more heavily trained and powerful than other Star Fighters of the same rank.
It makes them deadly opponents to face in a frontal confrontation. Which is why Jordan doesn’t plan to let his continued existence become known in any way, shape, or form until the very last moment. Until he’s ready, and his plans are set in motion.
Still, that doesn’t mean he plans to slink around like some coward, hiding in the shadows. Which is why the first thing on his agenda now that his most pressing needs are taken care of is to cultivate. To start regaining the strength he had previously.
Astra is everywhere, and permeates everything and every space in the universe. So even here, in this drab guard station, there’s no reason why he cannot do so. The only issue is that he doesn’t know how it’s going to work with his new body. Cultivating as a human is one thing. Cultivating as a monster could be something else entirely.