Vortex Origins
Chapter 82: A plan unseen

Chapter 82: A plan unseen

Max’s fingers froze above the glowing screen. He turned to Ash.

"What are you saying?"

Ash’s eyes stayed on the fire, watching the flames twist and break apart.

"We’ve already done more than we should have. If the military’s not coming, there’s no reason to stay."

Max let out a breath through his nose.

"You want to leave these people behind? What about your friend? You’re just going to let him die?"

Ash was quiet. The fire cracked. The smell of smoke and ash filled the air.

"He’s my friend. But I won’t trade your lives for his. I can’t lose any of you."

Max stood. The screen hovered in front of his face as he walked a few steps away, its cold light painting his features.

Ash looked up.

"Where are you going?"

Max didn’t turn back.

"It’s late. We need sleep. You won’t survive a fight like that without rest."

Ash clenched his fists.

"That fight’s not like the others. Tier Fours, maybe Tier Fives. And these things—they’re not like the sandworms. Each one’s built different. We don’t have reinforcements. We don’t have enough high stage user. We don’t even have a plan."

"But we have Kael."

Max’s voice was calm, almost distant.

Ash stood and followed, boots crunching over gravel. The music from the firepit faded behind them.

"I don’t think Kael will be enough. We struggle with two Tier Fours last time. Now more are coming. And with a Tier Five in the mix..."

Max glanced at him.

"You don’t trust Kael?"

Ash met his eyes.

"Do you?"

Max laughed, short and dry.

"Fair."

He turned his gaze forward again.

"But Kael’s stronger than you think. You saw what he did. Two Tier Fours, gone just like that."

"I saw it."

"Then believe in him. He may act like an idiot, but when it matters... he never disappoint."

Ash didn’t respond right away. The night air felt heavier now, as if the world itself was waiting.

"I hope you’re right."

Max didn’t answer. They walked in silence, boots echoing against the cracked pavement. The firelight behind them faded until only moonlight remained.

The building loomed ahead, its metal frame half-swallowed by vines and dust. A single beep broke the quiet as they reached the door.

Max stopped.

He glanced at his screen, then smiled.

Ash tilted his head.

"What was that?"

Max didn’t look at him.

"Nothing. Let’s go in."

Ash frowned. Something was off. Max didn’t just smile for no reason—especially not after a talk like that.

’Does he finally have a plan for the next wave?’

They stepped into the hallway, footsteps muffled on worn tiles. The corridor lights flickered as Max tapped away on his glowing screen, fingers fast, practiced.

Ash watched him, his unease growing with every step.

"You’re acting weird. What’s going on? Did something happen?"

Max didn’t look up.

"Something like that. I don’t think the next wave will be a problem anymore."

Ash narrowed his eyes.

’That can’t be right. He doesn’t have the firepower to stop what’s coming... unless—’

"Wait. You found a way to evacuate them, didn’t you? Somewhere safe?"

Max shook his head slightly, screen still glowing in his hands.

"To move that many people? We’d need a fleet. And time. We’ve got neither."

Ash exhaled slowly.

"Then what’s the plan?"

They reached their room. Max stopped at the door, finally meeting his eyes.

"You’ll see. Just rest. Stop worrying about the wave."

Ash didn’t reply. His jaw tensed, but he gave a small nod.

Inside, the room hadn’t changed.

Kael was nowhere in sight.

Max scanned the space.

"Not here. Where’d that idiot run off to this late?"

Ash glanced toward the door.

"Should I go look for him?"

Max stretched, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Nah. He’ll show up eventually. When he gets tired."

’Does he ever gets tired?’ Ash thought.

With that, he yawned and turned toward the back room.

Then he paused at the doorway, glancing over his shoulder.

"By the way... can you still fight? I saw you take a big hit from that wretched dancer."

Ash touched the spot over his chest. The fabric felt warm, but the pain was gone.

"Oh. Don’t worry about it. Am fine. My skill Phantom’s Stride helps more than just movement. Heals me too... slowly."

Max gave a nod, satisfied.

"Good. That’s good."

He turned and disappeared into his room, voice trailing behind.

"See you tomorrow."

The door clicked shut.

Ash stayed still for a moment, staring at the door.

He didn’t like being left in the dark. But something told him tomorrow would bring answers. Whether he was ready or not.

The quiet pressed in around him. Then he sank into the couch, the old cushions groaning under him. He closed his eyes.

The voice came immediately, ancient and hollow.

"[Your Soulcore Status]"

The pull came fast.

His soul slipped out of his body and dropped into the dark empty abyss of the soul space.

Water lapped at his feet.

He looked down.

Black water had risen again, swallowing the stone beneath him. It was cold. Not sharp. Just heavy. Like it knew how deep it went.

Then came the voice again—calm, distant.

[Status]

Name: Ashley Burns

Soulcore: Titan [Hybrid]

Soul Pool: 86% (3720/4000)

Core Stage: Initiated

Vessel Tier: Fifth

Skills: [8]

Ash stared at the water surface beneath him.

No ripples. No movement.

Just depth.

"I wonder what happens when I reach the cap..."

The thought hung for a moment.

Then he quickly let it fade.

"What am I saying...? I can’t advance without a Dark soulcore user. I’m stuck on this stage."

His gaze drifted upward.

The Titan Soulcore floated above him—huge, pulsing, alive. Its dark red light stained the space around it, slow and steady.

Ash took one breath and pulled away.

The soul space vanished.

His eyes opened.

The room was still. No wind. No fire. Just the hum of distant power and a world waiting to collapse.

He lay back.

"Max is right. I need rest."

Sleep took him quickly.

————

Hours passed.

The door creaked open.

Kael stepped in, half-bent, his clothes scorched and his skin streaked with soot. Ashes clung to him like a second skin. His breath came in short bursts, chest rising like a bellows.

But the grin on his face didn’t waver.

He made it two steps in.

Then collapsed, face-first.

A soft thud. No cry. No complaint.

He was already asleep before he hit the floor.