Meta-Origin: Genesis Key

Earth Metaverse Year 10, April 30, 2031 AD.

Although Shawn carried his schoolbag on his left shoulder, something about his posture seemed off. His right arm hung stiffly, his shoulder slightly tense, as if he were trying to mask discomfort. A faint yellowish ointment covered the abrasion on his right palm, a quiet testament to whatever had happened.

As soon as he stepped into the classroom, all eyes turned to him.

A few classmates quickly gathered around.

"Shawn, what happened? Are you hurt?" one of them asked, concern evident in their voice.

"Oh, it's nothing," Shawn replied lightly, forcing an easygoing smile. "I just took a spill on my bike yesterday."

But deep down, he knew his casual demeanor was just a front—he refused to show weakness, especially to certain people.

Sure enough, something was off. Across the room, Donner sat hunched over his desk, eyes locked on the surface as if he hadn't noticed Shawn at all. That wasn't like him. Normally, Donner would be the first to check in on him, but today he didn't so much as glance in his direction.

Shawn felt a strange sense of relief. To confirm his suspicion, he walked over and asked deliberately, "Donner, you feeling alright? You look a little off—need to see the nurse?"

Donner flinched slightly but kept his voice low. "No… I'm fine."

Still, there was something uneasy in his tone. He finally looked up, his gaze flickering before settling awkwardly on Shawn. "Your shoulder… is it okay?"

Shawn forced a relaxed chuckle. "Yeah, no big deal. Look!" He raised his right shoulder slightly, pretending it didn't hurt. But the moment his arm lifted, a sharp, searing pain shot through him. He sucked in a breath, trying to suppress the grimace that threatened to break through.

For a second, he froze, unable to move any further.

Donner saw it. His expression shifted, guilt flashing across his face before he quickly looked away. "Glad to hear it," he mumbled, then buried himself back into his desk, as if trying to disappear.

Shawn sighed inwardly. He was almost certain now—Donner had something to do with the attack.

The school let out early that day in preparation for the upcoming five-day break for International Workers' Day.

When Shawn got home, his grandfather was still out. Alone in the study, he let his eyes drift over the neatly arranged relics of another time—old pens, worn-out books, a pencil case polished to perfection, and an outdated copy of Time magazine. Everything was meticulously cared for, each item a silent keeper of the past.

He reached out and flipped through the magazine absentmindedly, when something unexpected caught his eye—a yellowed slip of paper tucked between the pages.

His heart skipped a beat. The size and texture… it looked eerily similar to the Spirit Key Spectrogram he had hidden in his drawer.

Could it be?

But that didn't make sense. According to Secretary General Quinn, each of the Nine Palace Spirit Keys was unique. There shouldn't be another Zhen Palace Spirit Key.

Carefully, he picked it up and examined it.

No symbols. No intricate patterns. Instead, there was something even more familiar—an old poem.

"All things strive, for fortune and misfortune are dictated by success and failure..."

His grandfather had taught him to recite these words, yet,he had never allowed him to see a written version. Surprisingly, he had kept it all his life...

Then his eyes fell to the bottom of the page, where a name was signed.

Lucy.

A name Shawn had never once heard from his grandfather. Yet for some reason, it stirred something unsettlingly familiar within him.

"Could it be…?"

His heartbeat quickened. He stared at the two characters, a gnawing sense of unease creeping into his mind.

As soon as his grandfather stepped through the door, his sharp gaze landed on Shawn's arm.

"What happened to you?" His voice carried both concern and scrutiny.

Shawn had come home late the previous night and left early that morning, leaving them no chance to speak.

He pressed his lips together, then sighed. No point hiding it now.

"Got into a fight," he admitted, shrugging. "But it's nothing serious."

His grandfather's expression darkened. "A fight?" His piercing eyes locked on Shawn. "Do you know who did this?"

Shawn waved a hand dismissively. "Relax, Grandpa. Let me explain."

He motioned for his grandfather to sit at the desk, then pulled up a stool across from him, recounting everything that had happened—from last night's incident to Donner's odd behavior that morning.

By the time he finished, he made one thing clear: he wasn't interested in revenge. Donner had already realized his mistake. The guilt in his eyes was real.

His grandfather was silent for a long moment, then let out a slow sigh. Finally, he nodded.

"Perhaps your classmate has indeed learned his lesson," he said, his tone gentle yet firm. "For now, we'll leave it at that. As long as he doesn't repeat the same mistake, let him be."

He met Shawn's gaze.

"Shawn, always remember—true education isn't about punishment. It's about responsibility and growth. If you judge a person entirely by their mistakes, you risk destroying their future."

Shawn absorbed his grandfather's words in silence.

He wasn't sure what the coming days would bring, but one thing was clear—this was far from over.

As night deepened, the warm glow of the study lamp cast gentle shadows over the grandfather and grandson, wrapping the room in a quiet sense of peace.

"An old man... with a pistol?"

Grandpa furrowed his brows slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the wooden desk as he pieced together the details Shawn had just shared.

"I agree with your analysis. These people aren't just ordinary thugs—they have some kind of backing." His voice carried a deep sense of doubt, his gaze lost in thought.

Shawn nodded, recalling the events of the previous night. "Yeah, I could feel it... Their attitude shifted the moment they saw the pendant on my chest." His brow tightened as his unease deepened.

Grandpa's eyes fell to the jade meteorite pendant around Shawn's neck. After a moment's hesitation, he reached out, gently pinching it between his fingers.

"Speaking of this pendant..." He paused, his expression unreadable. "You once said you got it from a mysterious world. I didn't ask much at the time, but now... I need to know more."

Shawn's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't expected Grandpa to bring this up. Should he tell the truth? The whole thing was so surreal that even he found it hard to believe.

Sensing his hesitation, Grandpa suddenly let go of the pendant and exhaled softly.

"Actually, that piece of paper is strange too. I've seen it glow… and I've seen a dragon appear on it."

Shawn's eyes widened in shock. "What?!" His voice was incredulous. "Grandpa, why didn't you tell me?"

Grandpa let out a slow sigh, a complicated look in his eyes, as if weighing his words carefully.

"Because you were young. I didn't want to scare you. And… to be honest, I don't fully understand it myself." His tone was calm, but in his eyes, Shawn could see years of silent contemplation—endless nights spent grappling with this secret alone.

Shawn's pulse quickened. Grandpa knew far more than he had let on.

"Grandpa… are you worried about something?" he asked cautiously.

"Worried?" Grandpa chuckled softly, a hint of nostalgia in his expression. "Before your grandmother passed, she gave me that paper. She warned me it would show strange phenomena. And I've seen it happen—twice."

Shawn felt a chill run down his spine. "Grandma? Before she passed?" He frowned. "But… Grandma's still alive. She just lives with my parents, right?"

A heavy silence filled the room. Grandpa's face darkened slightly before he finally sighed.

"I'm not talking about your grandmother… I mean another grandmother."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

Another grandmother?

Memories flooded Shawn's mind—memories from childhood, moments that had never quite made sense. Why had Grandpa always lived alone in the school's staff dormitory while Grandma stayed with his parents?

He recalled asking his mother about it when he first started high school. She had only given him a vague reply:

"Your grandpa has something he can't let go of, and your grandma has a wound she can't heal. You'll understand when you're older."

Now, at last, things were starting to make sense.

"Grandpa…" Shawn's voice was quiet but firm. "Was her name Lucy"

His eyes drifted to the yellowed paper on the table, a strange emotion stirring within him.

Grandpa's gaze flickered for a moment before he slowly nodded.

"Yes," he said at last, his voice carrying the weight of years of silence. "When you first mentioned the Meta Origin Society, I thought she had told you about it."

Shawn's breath caught. "No… I learned about the Meta Origin Society from someone else." He pointed at the paper. "But Grandma Lucy

—"

Grandpa stared at the document, silent for a long time. Then, with a small, bitter smile, he patted an old book on the desk.

"Nice try, changing the subject," he said, his eyes sharp with knowing. "You still haven't told me where this pendant came from."

This time, Shawn didn't hesitate.

He took a deep breath and spoke clearly:

"This pendant is called the Zhen Palace Spirit Key. It's the token of the Meta Origin Society."

He then recounted everything—the Kapteyn's Star, how he came into possession of the Spirit Key, and his promise to find the remaining seven holders of the Nine Palace Spirit Keys.

Grandpa listened without interruption. When Shawn finished, he remained silent for a long time, his hands rubbing absently at his knees. For a brief moment, Shawn thought he saw his grandfather's eyes glisten.

Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, Grandpa murmured, "So… it has been preserved."

Shawn's heart pounded.

"Grandpa… do you mean the Spirit Key Spectrogram?"

Grandpa looked up, his expression a mixture of relief and deep emotion.

"Yes," he said, nodding slowly. "Her wish… should finally be fulfilled."

His voice was so soft it almost disappeared into the stillness of the room. But the weight of it lingered, heavy with sorrow, reverence, and something else—something Shawn couldn't quite name.

After another long silence, Grandpa took a deep breath, his eyes filled with a resolve Shawn had never seen before.

"For years," he said at last, "I have been keeping a promise."

He paused, as if gathering the courage to speak words that had remained buried for decades. Then, finally, he began to recount a past filled with tragedy, sacrifice… and an unshakable devotion that had stood the test of time.

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