Story Title :- Singularity Chain
Chapter 1: The Chain Awakens
They always said the Singularity Chain chose its host by merit of pain.
Kael learned this truth the moment his bones snapped under the weight of his own blood.
The initiation chamber stank of ozone, rust, and fear—an underground furnace of broken bodies and hollow screams. Hundreds had entered. Only a handful remained. Most were now stains across the arena, their corpses shattered by the trials designed to awaken the Chain Mark—an ancient system buried deep beneath the code of their DNA.
Kael stood barefoot on the obsidian circle, chains coiled around his wrists like serpents hungry to feed. The others in line were no older than him—seventeen, maybe twenty—but they wore the same glassy eyes. Survivors from the outer sectors. Fugitives. Forgotten sons of a world that no longer remembered itself.
He looked up.
Above him, the Watchers sat behind transparent obsidian—a circular council of robed figures with chrome-plated faces. Each one an extension of the Singularity AI. They didn’t speak. They didn’t move. But Kael felt their thoughts prick against his skull like needles made of lightning.
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere.
“Subject 1138. Designation: Kael. Bloodline: Null. Offense: Existence without authorization.”
A pause. Then the booming verdict.
“Initiation into the Chain is offered as final judgment. Survive or be expunged.”
The floor trembled. The chains on Kael’s arms turned molten. His veins caught fire.
It felt like drowning in stars.
The System interface flooded his mind—an ancient cascade of language older than time itself. Not written. Not spoken. It simply was.
Kael screamed as the world folded inward.
Visions exploded behind his eyelids—stars collapsing, cities burning, shadows clawing out of dimensions untold. A child with silver eyes standing atop a tower of ash. A blade formed from memories and sorrow. A voice, deep and sorrowful, whispering a single name.
Kael...
He opened his eyes.
The chains had vanished. In their place were black runes scorched into his skin, glowing faintly. The others in line stared at him in horror—not awe. The Watchers were silent, but the silence roared louder than any verdict.
Then the system voice returned, colder now.
“Subject 1138. VOID-Type confirmed. Forbidden Class. Execute immediately.”
Kael didn’t understand. He hadn’t chosen this. He didn’t even know what it meant.
Suddenly, the chamber’s gates hissed open. Six figures stepped out—tall, armor-clad executioners. Their faces hidden behind blank silver masks. Their hands crackled with energy—each wielding a different elemental form. Fire. Ice. Time. Gravity. Steel. Light.
The one at the front raised his hand, and time slowed to a crawl.
Kael’s breath caught mid-air.
Everything moved like syrup. Sounds warped. The walls pulsed.
A dark pulse erupted from Kael’s chest. Time snapped back to normal, violently. The executioners stumbled. The leader dropped to one knee, coughing blood.
“What…?” one of them choked. “That’s… a God-Type response…”
Kael was just as confused. He didn’t do anything. But something inside him had. Something old. Something awake.
His body moved on its own.
He ducked a lightning spear, rolled forward, and slammed his palm into the floor. A shockwave of pure void erupted, sending three executioners flying. Their armor cracked. Blood sprayed the walls.
He stared at his hands. They were smoking. His veins were now black, pulsing like a heartbeat outside of time.
Another spear came—this one of pure steel.
Kael didn’t dodge.
He caught it.
It tore through his shoulder—but his blood didn’t flow red. It hissed black and burned the weapon to ash. His eyes flickered for a second—silver iris, slit pupils.
He grabbed the attacker by the face and whispered something that wasn’t a word, but a feeling. Unmake.
The executioner exploded into particles.
Kael dropped to his knees, panting.
Around him, the remaining guards backed away.
Then the voice returned—this time not from the system, but from inside him.
“You were not meant to awaken, Kael. But now that you have... the world will break.”
Alarms blared. The chamber began to collapse.
Kael forced himself to stand, eyes locked on the Watchers. Their faceless masks stared down without emotion, but he felt something—fear.
The central Watcher spoke for the first time.
“Seal the sector. Purge the chain. No record of this event must remain.”
Kael spat blood.
“Too late.”
He raised his hand—and the shadows answered.
The shadows rose like a tidal wave.
They weren’t just darkness—this was something deeper, more ancient. Like the void between atoms, the space where reality frayed and laws unraveled. The chamber’s lights shattered. Gravity warped. The Watchers’ crystalline perch trembled.
Kael’s mind burned, not from pain—but clarity.
He could see things now. Layers beneath reality. Threads of energy and code that made up everything—the Singularity Chain, the artificial constructs of power, the lies of order.
And he could touch them.
He pulled one.
A thread of gravity snapped. The chamber tilted sideways. One of the remaining executioners flew up and slammed into the ceiling, his body crushed by the inverse force.
Kael turned, staggered, and felt a pulse from deep inside his chest.
Not his heart—something beneath it. A seed of hollow power, echoing with unspoken memory.
The Void Core.
Outside, klaxons blared. Steel doors slammed shut. Entire sectors were locking down. Red warning glyphs flashed across every surface:
Kael stumbled through a breach in the collapsing wall, into a tunnel of pulsing neon veins. Pipes hissed. Steam burned. Drones descended from above, their plasma rifles hot with purpose.
He didn’t stop running.
As he moved, the world around him seemed to blur, like reality couldn’t keep up with what he had become. For a moment, he existed in three places at once—his steps echoing across multiple timelines.
He turned a corner—and collided with something.
Someone.
A girl.
She was hooded, eyes covered with a visor that flickered erratically. Silver threads coiled around her fingers like sentient code. She looked up at him—and froze.
“You’re the anomaly,” she whispered.
Kael blinked, panting, body trembling.
“I didn’t choose this.”
“I know,” she said. “But you were always going to awaken.”
Another pulse of energy surged down the corridor. The tunnel behind them exploded—black-armored Watchers stormed through the fire, weapons aimed.
The girl grabbed Kael’s hand.
“No time. This way—through the veil.”
They ducked into a maintenance hatch that didn’t exist.
It simply blinked into being as she willed it—bending the wall’s code like wet paper. Kael felt it again—the sensation of systems being rewritten around him. Nothing here was stable anymore.
They emerged in a narrow chamber humming with forgotten servers and green-lit cables that twisted like vines. Everything was ancient tech—organic-synthetic hybrids from a lost age.
Kael dropped to his knees.
His body trembled. Not from exhaustion, but corruption. His veins were turning blacker with each breath. His skin was losing warmth. The seed of power inside him was growing too fast.
“It's burning me,” he said, eyes wide.
The girl knelt beside him and pressed her hand to his chest.
Her voice became low, calm—practiced. “You’re in the first phase of a system override. The Void-Type is rewriting you.”
Kael gritted his teeth. “Why me?”
She looked at him, quiet for a moment.
“Because your bloodline was erased for a reason. You’re not supposed to exist. And the system… it’s afraid of what that means.”
Kael gasped as the corruption slowed. His heartbeat stabilized. The threads around him calmed—though still twisted with tension, like a coiled predator.
He looked up.
“Who are you?”
Nyra stood and pulled back her hood.
One of her eyes glowed like a shattered sun. The other was pitch black, pulsing like a singularity.
“I was like you. Before the Chain took everything. Before they rewrote my past.”
She offered a hand. Kael took it.
They didn’t speak for a long time, walking through the forgotten server hallways of the underground—a place beyond the Singularity’s surveillance. Each step revealed glimpses of history lost to digital fire: burned-out logs, incomplete data cores, fractured memories stored in echo-archives.
And Kael began to remember.
The orphanage—Sector 7’s containment ward. Children lined in rows, each injected with synthetic bloodcodes. Screams. Failed awakenings. Mass graves under fluorescent lights.
And the doctor with crimson irises, whispering: “If the Void chooses you, don’t resist. It means the world still needs a monster.”
Kael stopped walking.
Nyra turned. “What is it?”
“I saw him. The one who gave me this curse.”
Nyra nodded, quiet.
“That wasn’t a curse. That was the key.”
Suddenly, the walls flickered.
Reality glitched. The floor beneath them warped.
“We need to move—now,” Nyra said.
But Kael didn’t move.
He closed his eyes.
A door appeared—an impossible fracture in space, jagged and pulsing like a wound in the world.
Kael turned to Nyra.
“We can escape through here.”
She hesitated. “That’s not a door. That’s a rupture. It could tear us apart.”
Kael’s voice was calm.
“Or it could take us to where they can’t follow.”
And without another word, he stepped through.
Nyra cursed softly—then followed.
They fell.
Not through space, but through unreality. A chasm of data, echoes, screams, and forgotten gods. Voices cried out in every language. Systems collapsed in fractal light. Kael’s mind unraveled—and reformed.
They landed on cold stone, in a place lit by pale moons and floating ruins.
The sky was cracked like glass.
Kael rose to his feet. His runes pulsed—stronger now. His body no longer trembled. The pain was gone.
Nyra stared at the stars.
“This is…” she whispered. “The World Between Worlds.”
Kael looked at his hands.
“I feel... whole.”
And then, from the shattered sky, a voice called out—not mechanical. Not ancient. But familiar.
“Welcome home, child of the Null.”
Kael’s eyes widened.
He turned slowly.
And standing there—draped in robes of white fire, skin etched with runes of godlight—was the man from his dreams. The doctor. The one who had started it all.
End of Chapter 1
