Chapter 6: World's On Fire, But He's Asleep
"With all that said... This is the thing you could see? Just... question marks?"
The conference room — sealed tight with arcane runes and psionic jammers — buzzed with mana-fueled tension. Dozens of officials, agents, and specialists from all corners of Arcadia gathered around a projection of Chris's [Inspect] readout.
[Eye Of ???]
????????????Holder of one of the Primordial Essences
Every scholar and researcher in the room stared at it, unblinking.
A woman in a formal Mythical-ranked robe stood up, slamming her crystal tablet on the table.
"This isn't just a relic. This thing breathes. It's adapting to inspection attempts and warping mana codes like it's learning."
"It's Primordial," someone whispered.
"As in, before the system even existed..."
A pale man with golden eyes and a Heroic-tier aura nodded slowly, his voice trembling.
"Primordial shouldn't even be a thing. It's a theory. A myth. We've never even seen one."
Another stood, panic rising in his voice.
"Forget Mythical. Call Divine-Ranked Hunters. Call the Ethereal Division. We need everyone. Hell, call the Astral Parliament—"
"Focus up!" the robe-woman snapped.
"This isn't a drill! This is the birth of a world-class disaster!"
The projection flickered. For a brief moment, the Eye's display shifted — black tendrils of glitching text slid across the panel.
Then... it pulsed.
Everyone in the room felt it.
A presence. Watching them.
Silence fell.
Meanwhile…
Inside the secure containment suite:
Chris lay sprawled sideways across the bed, snoring softly, one leg hanging off, hair in full disaster mode.
The Eye hovered peacefully beside him, rotating slowly like a curious pet rock.
[Synchronization in progress…]
[Progress: 15%]
Chris muttered something in his sleep.
"Mmm... pancakes... huh? No syrup... betrayal…"
He rolled over, hugging the pillow tighter.
The Eye gently pulsed again. Almost… protectively.
Back in the briefing room:
The lead investigator stormed in.
"Where is the subject?"
"Still in containment. Hasn't moved."
"Hasn't—what?! He hasn't even noticed?!"
The projection flared again.
More question marks.
More corruption.
Now a soft hum that resonated through the air.
"This thing is waking up."
"No," the Mythical-class woman whispered, her face pale.
"It's remembering."
Back in his room, Chris finally blinked one eye open.
"...Ugh."
He scratched his head.
"Why do I feel like someone just dumped lore all over me while I was asleep?"
The Eye hovered closer.
A line of text flickered across his vision:
[Dream Imprint Detected.]
[Memories of ??? accessible once synchronization reaches 25%.]
"...Wait. What memories?" Chris sat up, eyes narrowing.
"Oh no. You're not isekai info-dumping me in my dreams."
He glared at the Eye.
It blinked back.