They had to wait.
Wait for their target to experience a trigger event, born from a pure emotional spike — whether rooted in pain or joy didn't matter. Only intensity.
Until then, the Shard remained dormant, attached loosely to the host, barely perceptible, collecting minimal passive data while awaiting the inevitable moment of ignition.
And there was another rule — a social rule among Shards.
Once a host was claimed by a Shard, the others instinctively avoided that target. Sharing was… undesirable. They didn't like distributing [Data] unless strictly necessary.
It wasn't about cooperation.
It was about dominance.
In fact, when the network was complete, with thousands of Shards spread across countless hosts, there would be conflicts — battles fought not always through death, but through influence. A duel could be a fistfight… or an argument. A clash of wills.
Victory was metaphorical, but no less significant.
That was for the future.
For now… there were only a handful.
When [Linguagens] fully integrated with the technician, it retreated completely from Victor.
The fragment that had subtly improved his phrasing, the instinctive grasp of new words… faded, leaving behind only a slightly sharper tongue, a bit more fluency, as if he'd simply grown up a little overnight.
[Linguagens] had no interest in irritating the [Corona Solar].
Especially not one that, in time, might be crowned [King] of an entire sub-network — the natural nexus for all Shards dealing with sun, heat, fire, burning… and so on.
Victor would, likely without knowing it, one day command all those nodes.
But that was a long way off.
Right now, he was simply… a boy trying to make a little money.
Victor took odd jobs wherever he could.
Carrying crates for vendors, delivering parcels, even occasionally walking dogs for families too tired or too busy to do it themselves.
Anything that paid a little.
He often found himself lost in thought while working, wondering how much longer he could keep this up. There was this constant tightness in his chest, like he was holding something fragile and heavy all at once. The weight of responsibility. The fear of losing his grandfather. The exhaustion of being fifteen and already feeling… old.
Some days, it felt like his whole life had been a series of small burdens he'd carried quietly. Not enough to break him, but enough to make every step a little heavier.
That morning, he was finishing a delivery near the market when he heard a familiar voice.
"Victor!"
He turned to see Cristina Avarosa waving at him from across the square.
Cristina — human, about his age, sharp-tongued, loyal to a fault, and capable of cursing with creative energy that could make grown men blush.
She ran up to him, practically bouncing with that same chaotic energy she always had.
Victor couldn't help but smile, despite everything. Cristina had always been like this — a storm wrapped in a girl's body. Fierce, loud, and the only person who could make him forget, even for a moment, how much everything hurt.
"Hey, dummy," she said, elbowing his arm. "How's your old man?"
Victor gave her a small, tired smile.
"Same… still holding on. I'm doing what I can."
Cristina sighed, leaning against a low wall. Her expression softened, something rare for her.
"I wish I could help. You know that, right?"
Victor nodded.
"You already do… just being around."
There was a pause. Cristina looked down at the ground, scuffing her boot against the cobblestone.
Victor looked at her, then chuckled softly.
"Remember when we were little? And Grandpa Tom used to chase us around with that old cane of his…?"
Cristina burst out laughing.
"Oh my god! And he'd shout about how we were 'wasting good mischief' if we weren't making enough trouble!"
Victor grinned wider than he had in weeks.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
"And that time he tried to teach us how to fish… ended up falling into the river instead."
Cristina was laughing so hard she had to brace herself against the wall.
"He came home soaked and swore we'd never tell anyone. Which lasted… what, ten minutes?"
Victor shook his head, smiling at the memory.
"He was… always so ridiculous."
Cristina looked at him then, more serious.
"He's still that guy, you know. Just… trapped in a body that won't cooperate."
Victor swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak.
"I know."
Before either of them could say anything else, a woman walked past them.
Older. Maybe thirty-four, wearing a dress a little too tight, heels clicking sharply against the cobblestone. As she passed, she glanced back suddenly, scowling.
"Hey, you little animal. Were you just staring at my ass?"
Victor blinked, confused, completely thrown out of the moment.
"What?"
Cristina stepped between them without hesitation, hands on her hips, her stance protective and defiant.
"He wasn't looking at your ass."
The woman's eyes narrowed.
"What did you just say?"
Cristina didn't miss a beat, her voice calm but lethal.
"Look, honey, to stare at an ass, there needs to be one. Which you… don't have."
The woman gasped, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
"You don't talk to me like that, young lady! I'm a woman of God!"
Cristina smirked, her tone dripping with mockery.
"Oh, really? Does God know that? Somebody should tell him."
The woman, now red with indignation, turned on her heel and hissed over her shoulder as she walked away.
"I don't have to listen to the words of a little whore and a freak's friend."
Cristina froze for a second, processing the insult. Then her whole posture shifted as the fury kicked in.
"Oh, she did NOT just… I'm gonna send her right back to the devil—"
Victor grabbed her arm firmly, anchoring her.
"Cristina. Stop. It's not worth it… and I've still got to finish my shift."
Cristina glared at the retreating woman, then let out a long breath, her fists unclenching slowly.
"Fine… fine."
Victor smiled faintly, grateful.
"You're the best."
She rolled her eyes but smiled too.
"Yeah, yeah. Buy me a drink later."
Victor snorted, shook his head, and turned to leave, heading toward his next delivery.
From above, in the dimension beyond dimensions, I — Alex — observed everything with quiet amusement.
Humans were… endlessly entertaining.
But what intrigued me most was Cristina.
There was something about her.
The way she stepped between her friend and danger without hesitation, the confidence in her speech… the aura that burned just beneath her skin.
Not literal aura, not yet… but something deeper.
I focused, scanning.
Potential: confirmed.
Her Semblance was latent but brewing. Given the right trigger, it would likely manifest as a combat-oriented ability — probably something related to imbuing objects she holds, making them more than what they are.
A stick becoming a spear. A coin becoming a cutting disc. A simple insult becoming a blade of words.
Yes… very interesting.
I made a note.
Cristina Avarosa: candidate for future Shard integration.
But for now… I simply watched.
Victor, finishing his shift. Cristina, muttering curses under her breath as she walked the other way.
And somewhere, not too far, a [Linguagens] fragment quietly pulsed within its new host, preparing to expand its network of comprehension across worlds and species.
The network was growing.
Slowly.
I played with my crystal fish again as the relays continued building themselves in the distance.
All according to plan.
[Shards Active:]
- [Corona Solar] — Status: Germinating in Victor
- [Linguagens] — Status: Integrated with Technician
- [Potential New Shard] — Cristina Avarosa: Candidate
[Data Network:]
- Host behaviors: Monitored
- Emotional triggers: Pending
- Environmental analysis: Stable
All of it… slowly falling into place.
END OF CHAPTER