Night had fallen over the High District.
The photon lampposts cast a milky glow on the polished cobblestones of the alleyway. Passersby grew scarce. A few students in uniform were returning to the Academy, their silhouettes vanishing behind the glass door. Cleaning drones glided silently over the ground, vacuuming up dust no one could even see.
Nael finished his last NutriPack in a hurry in a side alley. The mud-flavored bar with its gritty texture left his mouth dry and bitter.
He sighed.
'Ugh... I keep thinking about the NutriPacks Mr. Kim was going to give me... If only that little rat hadn't interfered.'
His face darkened at the thought of the confrontation with the blacksmith apprentice.
He shook his head, pushing aside those useless memories, and forced himself to chew the last of the bar. Stretching his arms, he looked around at the last few people clearing the street.
"Alright. Time to work."
There was no time to waste. He had to move fast.
Slipping out of the alley, he cast one last glance at the illuminated façade of Orion Academy—immense and majestic—his eyes filled with determination. The stained glass windows lining the upper walls reflected the stars and nearby towers like shards of golden light.
A moment of hesitation gripped him. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
'Uh... Come on, Nael. You can do this. You're just going to sneak into the most secure building in all of Helion. No big deal.'
Earlier that day, hidden near the Academy's entrance, he'd managed to catch the floor where the Attribution Room was located.
Now, it was time.
He crept along the wall adjacent to the alley he'd come from, walking softly for a while. Eventually, he found himself behind the building. He'd done some scouting about an hour earlier. While circling the Academy, he'd noticed a suspended bridge connecting the massive structure to a smaller complex, also bearing the Academy's emblem.
He'd deduced that this had to be the Attribution Room.
'Logically... I mean, come on! It's always like that in movies. The character's looking for something and it's been under their nose the whole time!'
Except Nael wasn't in a movie.
The only problem was, he couldn't find a way in. So, to fix that, he'd decided to climb to the bridge and enter from the top. Simple as that. He walked up beneath the bridge and took out a long pipe—several meters long—that he'd found in a dumpster earlier. The pipe was covered in mold and... other things he preferred not to think about.
Still grimacing in disgust, he took a few steps back and threw the pipe with all his strength. It arched through the air, landing over the bridge. Gripping one end tightly in his hand, he approached a nearby service pole and looped the other end of the pipe around it. Satisfied, he grabbed hold of the pipe with both hands and clenched his teeth.
His muscles tense, fingers stiff, he began the climb.
The ascent was pure torture.
Fifteen meters of smooth wall to scale, with no training, ragged shoes, and a broken pipe. Nael had never endured anything like it. Even scrubbing the Evolution Center walls with a toothbrush had been more fun. The pipe shook under his weight. His arms were nearly giving out, and sweat blurred his vision. He groaned, teeth clenched, dragging himself up the last few meters.
'Just a little more...'
When his fingers finally caught the roof's edge, he pulled himself up with one final effort and rolled onto his back, panting heavily.
He lay there a while, eyes fixed on the vast celestial vault stretching above. A far cry from the ruined skies of the Low District.
Silence surrounded him, broken only by the quiet hum of the cleaning drones still sweeping the streets below.
He sat up slowly, muscles aching.
Scanning the area, he spotted a lit opening nearby. It was so obvious, he wondered for a moment if it wasn't some kind of invitation.
'What am I saying? Who'd fall for such an obvious trap?'
Still, his eyes gleamed with anticipation and excitement. He hadn't come all this way for nothing. Trap or not, he was going to get his Attribute.
Whatever it took.
He crept toward the opening and peeked inside.
The interior was all white, with wall panels covered in inscriptions he'd never seen before. At the center of the room stood a stone block—it looked like some kind of altar, as if it had risen straight out of the floor. Whatever its origin, it could only be the place he was looking for. A surge of greed ran through him.
'Hehe, bingo! Codex? Come see daddy!'
An ugly grin spread across Nael's face.
Hesitating for a moment, he looked for a way to rappel down, then remembered the pipe he'd used to climb up and grimaced.
'Yeah, no. Not happening.'
In the end, he just jumped.
He landed in the very room he'd been searching for, the Attribution Room.
A thrill of euphoria shot through his body.
'No way! Just like in the movies!'
He launched into an awkward, clumsy combinaison of moves, flailing his arms and legs with no coordination. The moment of pure joy didn't last long—Nael froze in an embarrassing pose.
A noise.
'Huh? Someone's there?!'
Snapping out of his daze, he looked around for somewhere to hide. But the room was empty, aside from the altar at the center. He rushed toward the white block and pressed his back against its cold, smooth surface, facing the engraved walls.
The door let out a soft chime—unlocking. Footsteps echoed into the room. A night guard had entered, probably alerted by Nael's fall. He blushed slightly.
'God, I hope he didn't see me dance.'
Was that a dance?! Never mind. The guard spoke, his voice hoarse and nervous:
— "Someone here?"
Nael suppressed a shiver, shifting slightly, ready to bolt if things went south.
The footsteps echoed slowly, circling the room, approaching the altar… then receding. Nael heard the guard mutter one last thing as the door clicked shut.
"Gotta stop drinking…" he yawned.
A tense silence followed.
Nael waited another full minute before letting out the breath he'd been holding. He slid to the floor, back still pressed to the altar, forehead beaded with sweat.
Then, slowly, he got to his feet.
He turned to face the altar.
The object at its center caught his attention immediately.
There it was—a triangular piece, the size of a shirt button, like the ones from the orphanage. It glowed with a faint blue light, like a technological ember.
Nael leaned in slightly. The light from the object stirred a memory he couldn't quite grasp. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't place it.
But now that he looked closer, he recognized the device. Most High District citizens wore the same piece—especially children, particularly those in Academy uniforms. Even the woman who accompanied the orphans in the streets. They all had a similar piece pressed against their skin.
He reached out, hesitating.
His fingers trembled as they grasped the triangular device. It was warm—almost alive.
He lifted it, brought it to his ear, then gently pressed it against the skin near his own.
And then, everything changed.
His vision turned white. A blinding, devouring white. His pupils dilated, legs locked. His breath caught in his throat. He gasped, frozen in place. Every nerve in his body was electrified, captured, extracted.
His consciousness rose.
Or rather... slipped away.
He felt a stabbing pain on his forehead, as if something were being driven in. Then, a crash.
And finally, in a cold breath, a voice slid into his ear.
A voice synthetic, soft, and inhuman:
[Beginning protocol]