——[When Ancient Power Meets Modern Arrogance]
The moment Shawn stepped into the classroom, a ripple of whispers spread.
Before he could process the shift, a familiar voice cut through the noise—mocking, dripping with condescension.
"Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence."
Dan leaned against his desk, a smug grin twisting his lips. His gaze dropped to the jade-green pendant peeking from Shawn's collar—an unmistakable 'V' carved into its surface.
"Nice trinket." Dan flicked the pendant. "What is this, a souvenir from Chinatown?"
Beside him, Jolie lifted a sleek black badge, its silver eye insignia gleaming—the All-Seeing Eye Medal.
Dan tapped his Spectre Axe Mark Medal, pride practically radiating from him. "Too bad you didn't make the cut, Shawn. Some of us earn real achievements. Others… collect costume jewelry."
Scattered laughter. More whispers.
AGI-ST had just announced its first round of elite student awards. Dan and Jolie were among the chosen.
Shawn's fingers curled around the pendant. Unlike their flashy medals, his wasn't a mass-produced token of success. The Thunder Arcane Core Seal Pendant pulsed faintly—an ancient relic, meant to unravel secrets even the brightest minds couldn't begin to fathom.
He could silence them. Right here. Right now.
Show them what real power looked like.
But that wasn't his style.
Let them have their moment. Soon enough, they'd realize how small their victories really were.
Shawn tucked the pendant beneath his shirt, brushing past them. "Enjoy your medals."
The jade pulsed against his skin, syncing with his heartbeat.
"You'll need all the luck you can get when real power comes knocking."
Jolie's smirk faltered. Dan's eyes narrowed.
But Shawn was already out the door, the quiet click of it closing sounding more final than it had any right to.
That night, his computer screen bathed the room in cold light.
Shawn cast his net into the digital world.
On a Facebook group for antique collectors, he posted:
Shawn: Looking for jade seal pendants with intricate engravings. Anyone come across anything interesting?
Replies trickled in—links to auctions, pictures of generic carvings. Nothing useful.
He switched tabs.
Reddit's r/AncientMysteries. A private forum dedicated to esoteric artifacts.
On X, he tried a different approach:
"Some old jade pendants seem to hold forgotten meanings. Anyone know of historical pieces with hidden engravings?"
A reply caught his eye.
@MysticRelics: Ever looked into Daoist artifacts? Some seals weren't just for decoration.
His pulse quickened. He responded immediately, steering the conversation deeper.
But the user remained cryptic.
Some knowledge had to be earned.
For now, it was time to take the search offline.
The scent of incense thickened the air as Shawn stepped into an ancient Buddhist temple, nestled in the hills.
A middle-aged monk tended to a row of lanterns, his movements slow, deliberate.
"Excuse me, master," Shawn greeted, voice respectful. "I've been researching ancient jade seals. Some say they held spiritual significance. Have you ever encountered anything like that?"
The monk paused, studying him. "Seals have been used in rituals for centuries. But true spiritual artifacts… are rare."
His gaze lingered on Shawn, weighing something unseen.
"Why do you seek them?"
Shawn hesitated, then smiled lightly. "Just curiosity."
A long silence. Then, the monk turned toward the main hall.
"Perhaps the answer you seek isn't in objects, but in understanding the path they represent."
Cryptic.
But it told Shawn something crucial—there was knowledge here. But it wouldn't be given freely.
Later, he visited a Taoist shrine, tucked between modern buildings.
Behind the altar, an old priest peered at him with sharp, knowing eyes.
"Jade seals?" The priest stroked his beard. "They hold power, you know."
Shawn nodded. "I've heard. That's why I'm interested."
The priest chuckled. "Interest is one thing. Understanding is another."
Shawn leaned in. "Then how do I understand?"
The old man drummed his fingers against the counter, gaze drifting toward the shrine's inner sanctum.
"Some knowledge finds you when you're ready. Until then… keep looking."
Back on the city streets, Shawn's mind raced.
The online world had whispers.
The temples had riddles.
Somewhere in the overlap lay the answers.
And the other seven Arcane Core holders.
Yet—something felt off.
Lately, unfamiliar figures had been lurking at the edges of his vision.
A man with a newspaper, sitting unnaturally still for hours.
A woman who always exited the same stores he did, her gaze flickering away a second too late.
A reflection in a glass window—someone turning away the moment he looked.
They were watching him.
But who?
The M.O.S?
Or someone worse?
The first knock was soft.
The second—firmer.
Shawn stiffened. It was nearly midnight. No one should be at his door.
His fingers brushed the seal pendant in his pocket as he moved.
He cracked the door open.
A man stood in the dimly lit hallway, wrapped in a dark overcoat. His face was shadowed, but his eyes—sharp, assessing—locked onto Shawn's.
"You've been asking a lot of questions," the man said smoothly. His voice was too calm. Too controlled.
Shawn's grip tightened on the doorframe. "Who are you?"
The man didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his coat—slowly, deliberately.
No sudden movements.
Shawn tensed.
But instead of a weapon, the man pulled out an aged, folded parchment.
He held it out.
Shawn hesitated. Instincts screamed at him.
But curiosity won.
He took the parchment.
Its edges were frayed, the paper brittle with age. As he unfolded it, his breath caught.
A map.
At the center, drawn in faded ink, was the unmistakable symbol of X.
The man stepped back, gaze never leaving Shawn.
"On Saturday morning, there are people you'll want to see."
His voice softened—almost a warning.
"Be careful, Shawn."
And then—he was gone.
Shawn stood frozen before slamming the door shut and bolting it.
This wasn't just about collecting Arcane Cores anymore.
Someone knew what he was searching for.
Someone powerful.
Someone who had been watching him.
His fingers traced the intricate lines of the map.
It wasn't just a sketch.
It was a path. A guide.
But where did it lead?
And more importantly—
Who wanted him to find it?